{"id":209,"date":"2007-06-22T11:02:30","date_gmt":"2007-06-22T18:02:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/2007\/06\/22\/the-vanishing\/"},"modified":"2007-07-01T16:10:26","modified_gmt":"2007-07-01T23:10:26","slug":"the-vanishing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/2007\/06\/22\/the-vanishing\/","title":{"rendered":"The Vanishing"},"content":{"rendered":"

Working on a new post, but in the meantime I thought I’d post something I wrote for International Cinema about The Vanishing<\/em>. Comparing original French and Dutch film to American remake. Possible spoilers. All numbers in parentheses are page numbers in the book Dead Ringers: The Remake in Theory and Practice<\/em> by Jennifer Forrest and Leonard Koos.<\/p>\n

\"spoorloos.jpg\" \"dvd-vanishing.jpg\"<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Vanishing<\/em>
\n(Of Original Plot, Meaning, and Art, but Unfortunately Not of Kiefer Sutherland.)<\/strong><\/p>\n

It is the frequent and generally unavoidable fate of most great foreign films to be, at one point or another, remade for American audiences. Hollywood snatches up popular foreign films, eager to capitalize on their success overseas by catering to the very different tastes of what is perceived as the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcaverage American viewer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122. George Sluizer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s two versions of The Vanishing<\/em> illustrate this situation perfectly.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

In 1988, Sluizer made Spoorloos<\/em> (The Vanishing<\/em> in the U.S.). Five years later, he turned out a Hollywood version of the film. The first question to consider when comparing these two films is how to classify their relationship to one another. According to the criteria set forth in \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Rewriting Remakes\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, an \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcupdating\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 is a film in which \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the structure of the original is only minimally modified\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, while a \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcremake\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 is a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153new production, with a different cast and location, and a modified story line.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (20) Clearly, the 1993 version of The Vanishing<\/em> is a remake. However, it is subsequently mentioned that \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dctrue\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and censurable remake, therefore, is a film that copies the way that the original\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s images are presented on the screen. A \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcfalse\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 remake is not a remake at all but an adaptation.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d While the American version of the film has obvious differences in plot, structure, pace, characters, and dialogue, it still manages to recycle many of the original shots and shot sequences. Although much is added to this newer film, the parts of the original plot that are left intact contain reasonably faithful images. The differences in the scenes that both films share are so minute that I would still classify the 1993 version as a remake rather than an adaptation. But this brings up yet another issue. Is this imitation of shot composition also reprehensible? According to Andr\u00c3\u00a9 Bazin, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the way American producers copy the images rather than work merely from the basic storyline\u00e2\u20ac\u009d is \u00e2\u20ac\u0153particularly irritating.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (8) However, it is stated in \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Reviewing Remakes\u00e2\u20ac\u009d that citation and plagiarism are barely distinguishable in most cases. Additionally, the fact that the original director was in control of the new version pretty much eliminates the possibility of plagiarism. This does, however, bring in the idea of the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcautoremake\u00e2\u20ac\u2122, or the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153reworking by a director of his or her own material.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (21) When examining films and their remakes, it is generally hoped that the experience of each is different, but enhanced in some way. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153While the new work asserts its own identity in distinction to a first version, both old and new garner new meaning by their very intertextuality.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (22) Unfortunately, any new meaning discovered through the relationship between these two very different films only serves to highlight the risks inherent in Hollywood remakes.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

There are many immediately observable differences between the two versions of this film. Plot is the most obvious one, of course. The original film has a chilling\u00e2\u20ac\u201dbut perfect\u00e2\u20ac\u201dend, one that is in keeping with the style of the entire movie. In a terrifying, claustrophobic scene, Rex, the protagonist, realizes that he has been buried alive. This is followed by a few brief shots suggesting that the outside world has continued despite his death. The murderer, meanwhile, continues to enjoy his life, untouched by remorse or legal repercussions. Whether a result of the American need for satisfactory resolution or, perhaps, the producer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s reluctance to kill off Kiefer Sutherland, the ending in the 1993 version is radically different. Jeff (our American version of Rex) is indeed buried alive. However, this is where the similarity stops. Sluizer attempts to replicate this scene, but the thing that makes the original so haunting is its permanence, something that the new version distinctly lacks. Jeff\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s remarkably dedicated girlfriend tracks down the murderer and confronts him, eventually managing to defeat \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Barney\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and dig her boyfriend up before he suffocates. Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times complains that \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the ending of the original \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcVanishing\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 is of a piece with the rest of the film. It is organically necessary to it. No other ending will do. That is why this Hollywood remake is so obscene.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t agree with him more. Although basic plot structure is also toyed with in the remake, it is only in the final scenes that we see a glaring difference. However, the fact that many original scenes, or even shot sequences, were preserved does not necessarily mean that they are faithful.<\/p>\n

—
\nBazin\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s comment about Hollywood preserving images while distorting nearly everything else is especially relevant in this case. Important dialogue is altered in a way that completely removes meaning and original intention. For example, the opening scene in Spoorloos<\/em> consists of Rex and Saskia chatting playfully while driving down a European highway. This is replaced in the American version by Jeff (Sutherland) and Diane (Sandra Bullock) driving past a charred Mt. St. Helens and arguing about their vacation together. Jeff suggests that they choose a different national disaster area, and that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about the extent of their conversation, in terms of content, meaning, and depth. The vitally important tunnel scene, in which we discover that Saskia has dreamt of drifting in a \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcgolden egg\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 in space, is completely different in the new version. Perhaps it was decided that American audiences either couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t understand or would be too impatient with the golden egg theme, despite the fact that it is a pervasive force throughout the original film. Regardless of the reason, Diane has no such dream, and her abandonment in the dark tunnel becomes simply an incident illustrating her fear and attachment to Jeff. Diane\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s later insistence that Jeff promises never to abandon her again is familiar, but not quite identical to the original. In Spoorloos<\/em>, Rex and Saskia have already made up after the tunnel incident and are lying together in the grass. She has him repeat after her: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I, me, Rex Hofman\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6swear that the wonderful\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6exquisite and sweet\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Here he alters his repetition: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6almost always sweet\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, but she insists on her original phrasing: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the always sweet Saskia Wagter\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6will never be abandoned by me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d This scene is both touching and meaningful, representative of the dedication that later drives him to pursue the truth of her fate so single-mindedly. However, Jeff and Diane\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s version is slightly, but significantly different. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I, Jeff Harriman\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6swear that the wonderful\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6the exquisite and sweet\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d His alteration: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6the exquisite and potentially sweet\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and her response: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the always sweet Diane Shaver\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6will never be left by me again\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6till death do us part.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d His final comment, accompanied by a grin and sheepish chuckle, simply adds to the levity of the situation in this version: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That makes it sound so official.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d In Spoorloos<\/em>, this exchange serves as a poignant, serious, and meaningful break in the temporarily light mood of that particular scene. In its remake, the exchange is used as nothing more than an apology of sorts, and end to their fight. This is intentional trivialization of dialogue that was originally very important and emotionally loaded. Why? Because it is enforcing the familiar pattern of conflict and resolution. The film is promising its audience that it will resolve everything satisfactorily, from the basic plot to the relationships between characters. Not only this, but everything will conform to easily recognizable patterns, limiting the amount of serious thought and introspection that it demands from its viewers.<\/p>\n

—
\nThis idea of resorting to predictability to soothe audiences is explained further on page 17: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The audience at an art film does not get a mimetic image of itself. Instead, audience members are made uncomfortable by the film\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s refusal to fall into familiar and reassuring patterns, ones that in genre deceptively strike to reconcile collective and personal moral contradictions. The commercial cinema is one of masks, the art of cinema one of truth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d It would probably be fair to say that Spoorloos<\/em> is art, while The Vanishing<\/em> is merely another example of a Hollywood attempt to maximize economic gain. But, as Michael Harney points out in his essay, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the typical big summer movie is a theme park, a trade show\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6a multifunctional marketing vehicle. It sells itself, it sells toys, it sells food, it sells books and music. You can say it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s zero as art, but you haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t said much of anything, since art was far from the minds of the people making it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (73) So perhaps I shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be quite as critical of the 1993 version. After all, it has entirely different goals.<\/p>\n

—
\nThis difference in motivation is especially apparent when considering genre. Although Spoorloos<\/em> falls under the category of \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcpsychological thriller\u00e2\u20ac\u2122, I would be hesitant to assign this same classification to The Vanishing<\/em>. (Even the original does not fit our dramatic, Hollywoodized model of the psychological thriller. As Ebert points out, in Spoorloos<\/em>, Sluizer has \u00e2\u20ac\u0153constructed a psychological jigsaw puzzle, a plot that makes you realize how simplistic many suspense films really are. The movie advances in a tantalizing fashion, supplying information obliquely, suggesting as much as it tells, and everything leads up to a climax that is as horrifying as it is probably inevitable.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d) As for the remake, melodrama, action, and even \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcslasher film\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 come more readily to mind. It is entirely incapable of being a \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcpsychological thriller\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 due to the absence of any real psychological aspects. Yes, there is a vague structure that hints at the suspense and thoughtfulness of the original, but it fails to follow through with anything but basic plot points and clich\u00c3\u00a9d situations or exchanges. In the American version, they felt the need to develop the romance between Rita Baker (the new girlfriend) and poor, obsessed Jeff. Her origin as a waitress is revealed and the progress of their relationship is both shown and implied. This is obviously done because the change in ending necessitates it. We need this new woman to run up and save Jeff from certain death. In the original, it doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t matter where his new girl came from or how they interact, except to show that she doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t really exist for him in the same way that Saskia did. This is a very bleak message, and one that was, unsurprisingly, deemed unappealing to most American viewers. This is perfectly in keeping with one of Harney\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s main points. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Art, even bad art, is that work which strives to reveal human beings, to hold up \u00e2\u20ac\u02dca fearsome mirror to our selves and social orders.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Entertainment is, by contrast, both a \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcmode of address to the most superficial levels of the personality\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and a denial of the very existence of social and psychological depth. Entertainment \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcdisperses between the sub- and the superhuman.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 It purveys \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcdreams of redemption [that are] cynically aware of their own unreality\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (67)<\/p>\n

—
\nBoth the music and pace of The Vanishing<\/em> highlight this emphasis on entertainment rather than art. The non-diegetic sound in Spoorloos<\/em>, while very distinctively 1980\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s, is relatively unintrusive and serves as a supplement to the dialogue and images. However, the musical score in the 1993 version is dramatic, moody, and predictable. The irony here is that while the music itself is predictable, it enforces and encourages further predictability of plot, emphasizing certain scenes. The music serves as the audience\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s emotional cue, leaving nothing up to thought and completely eliminating ambiguity. Similarly, the speed of the plot in general and individual shots also conveys a very \u00e2\u20ac\u0153American\u00e2\u20ac\u009d sense of filmmaking. The long, thought-provoking shots of the original are replaced with a multitude of rapid cuts. This carries the action along quickly, bombarding the audience with meaningless visual stimuli while leaving them with virtually no time for serious reflection. But this is not the only technical aspect of the newer version that results in a dramatic reduction of significance.<\/p>\n

—
\nWhile the shot structure in many scenes, especially the one in which the antagonist is \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcrehearsing\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 for his crime with the chloroform and car, is identical between the two films, there is still something noticeably different. Aspects of these shots are, again, either ignored or trivialized in the new version. The best way I can think of to describe the difference between these shots is that they are simplified in the American version. Tiny details are either eliminated altogether or, if deemed sufficiently important in the creation of suspense, made glaringly obvious. As an American filmgoer, I feel fairly insulted by this decision to convert an entire film in this way. Is Hollywood saying that we, as a society, are unintelligent? Or perhaps just incurably lazy? Either way, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not especially complimentary. This unfortunate phenomenon is explained particularly well in \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Reviewing Remakes.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153In her recent discussion of American remakes, Vincendeau distinguishes between American and French cinematic traditions, asserting that the former privileges \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcclear-cut motivation, both of causality (no loose ends) and character (good or evil),\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 whereas the principle of the latter is \u00e2\u20ac\u0153ambiguity\u00e2\u20ac\u009d. The American remake of a French\/European film serves to reveal this difference primarily through film endings, with the former providing a comforting resolution altogether absent in their European counterparts. The incompatibility of the two cinemas emerges equally in the dissimilar relations the remake establishes with its characters; American cinema deals in black-and-white oppositions with the neat elimination of all the grays. In this sense, the remake functions as the ideal point of cultural comparison between the two cinemas with one intended ostensibly for the supposedly na\u00c3\u00afve, childlike American, the other for the ironic, adult European.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (8)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

What Vincendeau says is especially true in this case. The Vanishing<\/em> is simplified to a degree that approaches the ridiculous. Complexities of the antagonist, Raymond, are reduced in an attempt to make him as clear-cut as the rest of the movie. In the original, he is understandable\u00e2\u20ac\u201doccasionally even likeable. Two of the most important scenes that accomplish this are flashbacks. In the first, he leans over a balcony, looking down at the street below. He wonders what prevents him from jumping, and \u00e2\u20ac\u0153in order to go against what is predestined\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he jumps and breaks an arm. This idea is a tantalizing one even for the sanest of us. What guarantees that we won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make the same kind of choice as him in a situation like that? The idea of \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcescaping destiny\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 has always been an attractive one in society. We can understand this desire of his, in spite of where it ultimately leads. The second scene consists of Raymond leaping into a river to save a little girl. His own daughter is bursting with pride for him, but he arrives at the conclusion that he cannot be a true hero unless he is incapable of true evil. To test this hypothesis, he therefore must do the worst thing he can think of, which is, of course, burying a person alive. (We learn that he is claustrophobic from a scene in which a policeman pulls him over for not wearing a seatbelt. This detail is left out in the 1993 version.) But the Hollywood version villainizes him by delegating him to the role of obligatory \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcevil guy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122. Barney Cousins is a grinning, remorseless villain, whose only goal seems to be the psychological\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand eventually physical\u00e2\u20ac\u201ddestruction of his nemesis, Jeff. The original film is about understanding, whereas the new one is about relentless malevolence.<\/p>\n

—
\nBut what about the issue of Sluizer? After all, he also directed the original film, which was brilliant. Roger Ebert certainly wants to know: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the story here? Do Sluizer and his American producers believe the American movie audience is so witless it will not accept uncompromising fidelity to a story idea? Are Europeans deserving of smart, cynical filmmaking, but Americans have to be approached on a more elementary level? I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know. I simply know that George Sluizer has directed two films named \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Vanishing,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 and one is a masterpiece and the other is laughable, stupid and crude.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d So what exactly went wrong? It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s obviously not a reflection of his talent as a director; the first version is proof of that. It follows, then, that the disappointing quality of the remake is due primarily to the American film industry. In his essay, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Twice Told Tales\u00e2\u20ac\u009d, Thomas Leitch elaborates on this. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153George Sluizer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s 1993 American remake of his own dark thriller The Vanishing (1988) corrects the error that made the earlier film so bleak and unsettling by providing a happy ending for American audiences and Kiefer Sutherland, a star in whose welfare they could be expected to have a residual investment.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (57) I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not sure I agree with Leitch that Sluizer is \u00e2\u20ac\u02dccorrecting an error\u00e2\u20ac\u2122. This implies that an error exists, and, for most of the world, it did not. The ending of the original is only an \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcerror\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 as perceived by simple-minded American viewers. Quite honestly, I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have minded if they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d just kept Kiefer Sutherland buried. And not because the original ending is so spectacular, which, incidentally, is also true, but because Kiefer had grown unbearably tiresome and by the end of the film I was more than ready for his permanent disposal. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not sure whether Kiefer Sutherland is most ridiculous when humming to himself as he waits for his girlfriend on the hood of the car, or emerging, Christ-like, from his near-death experience to eliminate a melodramatic villain. If I were one of the wittier film critics, I would probably say something like \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The title of this film inspired misguided hope, and as a result I spent the entire movie waiting for Kiefer Sutherland to vanish. But, as with every other aspect of the film, I was left disappointed.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

—
\n\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Great films are not made. They are remade!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (3) Although occasionally true throughout cinematic history, as stated in the essay this quotation is drawn from, it’s definitely not true in this case. It was unnecessary to remake this film. Sometimes if a film is great enough, the remake can only hope to attract new and different audiences. This often translates to less discerning and sophisticated audiences, especially in the case of Hollywood remakes of foreign films. As long as there is widespread viewership for these cinematic monstrosities, the process will continue. But there is hope, at least for those of us who do care. After all, as Bazin argues, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6if there exists an audience for old and foreign films, there is no need to remake.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (19) And even if the misguided \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcpowers that be\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 do remake, we always have the option of maintaining our undying loyalty to the superior original, which is exactly what I intend to do.<\/p>\n

Incidentally…rottentomatoes.com<\/strong>:
\nSpoorloos: 100%
\nThe Vanishing: 50%<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Working on a new post, but in the meantime I thought I’d post something I wrote for International Cinema about The Vanishing. Comparing original French and Dutch film to American remake. Possible spoilers. All numbers in parentheses are page numbers … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-209","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/209","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=209"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/209\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=209"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=209"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.elsweb.org\/serena\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=209"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}