Tag Archives: spirit

Adapting good and successful novels: One Day, A Very Private Gentleman (The American) and Room


I’ve discussed the business of adapting books into films before on this blog, and indeed the increasing phenomenon of the adaptation as opposed to original screenplays. I’ve bemoaned the lack of creativity in the film industry, leading to such a focus on both true stories and transformations of already existing fiction dominating this year’s Oscars, for example. But for all my ranting and raving there’s something irresistible about a good adaptation, because if your source material’s good there’s a good chance your interpretation of it will be. It’s like a kind of quality guarantee.

Then again it’s a treacherous tightrope to walk, especially when you’re bringing not only a good novel but a commercially successful one to the screen. Films based on novels with a huge and devoted following will benefit from the diversity and commitment of that fan base at the box office, but perhaps also suffer critically if they don’t capture the brilliance of the book.

After mingling the words in your mind and arranging them on the page, watching their finely tuned order blossom into a bestseller and basking in the praise and revenue, it must be hard for an author to relinquish control of his characters, no matter what the financial compensations. This is presumably why many decide to remain attached to the cinematic versions of their creations as writer or producer or something, even with the risk of their original being tarnished and overshadowed.

David Nicholls did just this for the adaptation of his immensely successful One Day, choosing to write the screenplay himself. There is now a trailer online for the film, which can be seen over at Empire Magazine via this link: http://www.empireonline.com/news/story.asp?NID=30843

I was absolutely absorbed in One Day when I read it and funnily enough I think I read it in roughly one day. It’s one of those books that you have to try really hard not to call a “page turner” because of how limp and cliché that sounds. It really is difficult to put down though. It became an ever present feature of the landscape of bookshops for a long, long time and still lurks prominently in the shadows. No doubt it will enjoy a revival with the release of the film. It was not the usual sort of addictive trash either. There was an organic originality to the concept, a humour and truth to the writing. The two main characters, Dexter and Emma, were fabulously realised. It was at once epic and emotional, experimental and accessible.

It did divide critical opinion, but the overwhelming consensus was that it was a cracking read, a verdict echoed at tills across the country. It’s the story of Dexter and Emma, who meet and sleep together one day at the end of their time at Edinburgh University. In bed they discuss the future, their hopes, fears and dreams for it. The novel follows them on the same date of the year, whatever they’re doing, for every year that follows their meeting. It mostly focuses on their relationship as friends but also charts their development as people, journeying through alternative aspects of British history like dodgy 90s TV along the way.

It was quite a few months ago now that I read One Day but I am still excited about seeing its rebirth in cinemas. It will be difficult to bottle up the simultaneously intimate and epic feel of the book for the audience, but as I’ve said before what really matters is capturing the spirit, the essence and sentiment of a story. The trailer certainly seems to strike some of the right emotional chords, as One Day really was enormously touching and moving as well as gripping. It may simply be that my age, one of transition between worlds, allowed me to inhabit Dexter and Emma’s shoes perfectly and marvel at the rollercoaster of their lives, grounded in those student beginnings. But then again, One Day shows snapshots of its key characters at a variety of ages, so anyone should be able to jump right in and live their human journeys. Perhaps that is part of the secret to its appeal.

Three Cs are very important for a good adaptation: cutting, casting and creativity. Nicholls would certainly have had to ruthlessly cut chunks of his already lovingly crafted and edited novel for the screen, as well as find the right leads. Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess are the chosen ones, and they seem to fit the bill in the trailer, in spite of wavering accents on occasion, as Empire point out in their commentary on the footage. I’ve also recently seen and reviewed The American, starring George Clooney, which was based on the novel A Very Private Gentleman by Martin Booth. Screenwriter Rowan Joffe changed aspects of the story rather dramatically, including its conclusion, for a modern and cinematic update to the book. Despite my gripes about the increasing frequency of adaptations, it is possible to be really creative and bold with them, with the added benefit of a proven base material to work with. Joffe was certainly creative, as was Clooney, who needed to exhibit the right physical mannerisms to convey the book’s character in miniscule brush strokes, compared to Booth’s first person narration.

Having now both read the book and watched the film, Joffe appears to have done a good job in creating The American. And as I’ve said, perhaps what is most admirable is that he has created something, not merely transplanted the book to the screen, which can be the worst mistake when adapting something that’s already celebrated art. The original novel, written in the first person about a gun maker nearing retirement, was impossible to adapt as it was. It needed more drama and would lack the charismatic voice of the page. It needed new sources of charisma.

The film does drop key themes of the novel. Interestingly as a student of history, Booth’s recluse (known as Signor Farfalla or Mr Butterfly, as his cover is painting them) is outwardly repulsed by the idea of history and progress, unless it is the history of ordinary men. And yet his narration repeatedly comes back to the idea through imagery, symbolism and anecdotes. Mr Butterfly claims that he is truly influencing history by providing the weapons for assassination with deft craftsmanship behind the scenes. But what the novel hints at, which a film couldn’t do in the same way, is that the narrator is struggling with the idea that after his retirement no one will remember his life’s work. If he has altered history it is unnoticeably so. He never says as much but the light implications are there and extremely fascinating.

Booth was also a constant traveller, as well as a writer of history, which might explain Mr Butterfly’s anecdotes of the world and some of his eye for detail, along with his warped fascination with the past. One of the ways the film captures the incredibly vivid and visual style of the book is through director Anton Corbijn’s direction. Corbijn used to be a photographer, and in the film this becomes Clooney’s character’s cover and he never gains the nickname Signor Farfalla, only The American. This somewhat spoils Booth’s unassuming character blending into any background, but the essence of him remains the same and the parallels with the striking visuals of the film and the descriptions of the book are appropriate.

The American is a very minimalist and restrained production. You get more from the book in terms of the character, but still not a great deal, so Joffe reflects this with the dialogue. This is still a man in isolation with a unique existence, who forms meagre relationships that are still too much for a man of his profession. He is growing too susceptible to these ties with age. What I liked particularly about The American is that it stands alone from the book and one can be enjoyed without the other, just as well as the two together. They are distinctive and different but enjoyable entities of subtlety.

Of course some books should simply never be adapted. Something about them cannot be replicated and without this something any adaptation becomes a pointless exercise. A bad adaptation of such a book is painful and a great shame. I think that Room by Emma Donghue, shortlisted for last year’s Booker Prize, is such an un-adaptable book.

It’s been a while since I finished reading Room, and in any case my observations and insights would not compare to fellow blogger Tom Cat’s: http://tomcatintheredroom.wordpress.com/2010/08/12/room-emma-donoghue/

I will briefly say why I think any adaptation would fail however. Room is reliant on the first person narration of Jack, a five year old who has been imprisoned since birth in a small room with his mother. This is the controversial novel inspired by the Fritzl case. I was sceptical about reading it and presumed it to be an exercise in creative writing drawing rather shamefully off of ghastly deeds in the media.

After I read the first pages of Room however I was hooked enough to buy it. And Jack himself is never abused. The novel is bleak and harrowing at times, but usually because of what Jack doesn’t say. The obvious implications, for example when Jack counts the creaks in his mother’s bed from his hiding place of the wardrobe, are the chilling thing for the reader.

What Room is really about is a unique five year old, nurtured with extremely intimate and confined love from his mother. As Tom Cat points out in his review, the philosophical points potentially there to be explored are many. Instead of really delving these depths however Room is more intriguing for its characterisation of Jack and the original voice Donoghue gives him. He makes incredibly perceptive observations about the modern world through both his innocence and ignorance. Occasionally his impressive vocabulary doesn’t quite sit right and convince, despite it mostly being explained away by his intense education from an early age; sometimes Jack obviously uses Donoghue’s word or phrase rather than his own. But the fact that this only happens now and then is a remarkable achievement.

For the most part Room is a heartbreaking, funny and thrilling story that takes a fresh view of modern life and culture. Everything good about this story derives from Jack’s completely original and skilfully executed narrative voice though. Many of the reviews of Room call its concept unique, but it really isn’t that astounding, simply ripped from extensive news coverage. It’s the clever angle from which Donoghue approaches her story that’s so wonderful and this couldn’t be transformed into film, no matter how they attempted to do it. Voiceover would not work; we are witnessing the thoughts tumbling through Jack’s head not a commentary of events. Jack’s innocence wouldn’t transfer to the screen, so neither would the appeal and success of the novel.

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A note on Obama’s rise and fall


The demise of President Barack Obama’s support in the USA, confirmed by this week’s Mid-Term election results, is a depressing triumph of pessimism over optimism. I found myself swept up in the wave of hope and positive expectation two years ago, as did millions of others across the globe. For me it was simply irresistible in a modern age in which nothing feels genuinely new and groundbreaking to be witness to true history unfolding. The first black President and one with a truly progressive agenda, felt like a huge step forward into a new era. Who knew what could be accomplished with an ordinary, sensible citizen at the helm of the world’s most powerful nation? Real change felt possible. Many will say that the capitulation of the fervour and enthusiasm that propelled Obama into office was inevitable though. They will point to the relative ease of Opposition compared to governance, the scale of the tasks Obama set himself and the harsh realities of politics. To a large extent they will be right: Obama simply could not fulfil such high expectations and his downfall acts as a warning to any politician elected on a platform of change for change’s sake, including Cameron’s coalition. But the President’s own actions and inaction has contributed to the dissipation of his popularity and can go some way still to restoring it in time for a second term.

All the talk now is of the necessity of Obama finding common ground with his newly powerful Republican foes. The advice is to consolidate the achievements of the first two years and work tirelessly on modest improvements the Republicans will support for the last two. Be a President who gets things done. However from across the pond the key disappointment of Obama’s time in office so far has been his withdrawal into work. Clearly he was conscious of the threat of his opponents labelling him as an empty orator, forever preaching but never getting his hands dirty. The danger of devoting himself completely to mammoth projects such as health care reform and securing an economic recovery though is that his enemies will have free rein on stage to belittle his accomplishments, as well as stalling them behind the scenes. And the fact is despite the huge change Obama’s health care reforms represent in the USA; they were never going to be politically profitable. Supporters of extended health care will look at the universal systems such as the NHS in this country and wish Obama had gone further, whilst conservatives view what he has already done as an act of socialism, needlessly and immorally pouring away gallons of public money at the expense of the treasured American private sector. Similarly too with his actions to prevent financial meltdown, it is difficult to prove how much worse things would have been without a giant fiscal stimulus and bailout and whether or not ordinary American workers actually benefited. There’s no doubt that America initially returned to unprecedented growth, but as this has petered out those still unemployed demand to know what is being done and the energised Republicans rant as all those on the right do globally about a ballooning budget deficit and the need for a smaller state.

Bizarrely, whilst it seemed the election of a black President had ended an era of extremism and intolerance it has actually served as a catalyst for the more outspoken Democratic opponents, mainly of course supporters of the Tea Party. It’s understandable why the President might feel paralysed and uncertain how best to fight back. In the eyes of many of the fanatics whatever he does will be wrong, and he has little evidence to hold up in defence of his first years in office. Even his supporters insist he has failed to communicate the enormity of what he has achieved already, but the problem is greater than just communication. Yes Obama must defend the good he has done but he must also spell out again the vision that energised his Presidential campaign. From here in the UK Obama’s transformation from inspirational orator with stirring rhetoric into a closeted figure focused on domestic matters, has been a massive disappointment. He had the opportunity to lead internationally on issues such as climate change, aid and terrorism, but has now spent the bulk of his political capital by becoming bogged down over health care. To restore his popularity in his own country Obama must surely begin to appear like a leader again and aim high. He must make it clear he intends to lead his nation for the long haul and that there are many challenges left to face. It may well be politically advisable to cooperate with the Republicans on some issues as he initially promised, but if this were at the expense of the idealism that catapulted him to power it would be a grave mistake. His opponents lack real backing and have merely benefited from the dissatisfaction of voters with Obama’s progress. Let’s hope that he can get back on the road and make up for a largely wasted start to the journey.