Book was Better?

“It wasn’t as good as the book.”

          I have heard this declaration so many times that I have begun to take it with a grain of salt.  The comment is invariably heard whenever one leaves a movie theater that is showing a movie that has been based on a book, and I have begun to suspect that maybe people sometimes say this simply because it is expected.  Maybe some of these people just want to sound smart and want to let people know that they have indeed read the book.  More often, I suspect, people say “the book was better” because it is politically correct to do so.

          Yes, political correctness extends beyond our attitudes toward controversial issues and our diction when referring to people of different nationalities, races, or religions.  It even extends to the conventions of informal film discussion.  To be politically correct, a movie-goer has to follow certain rules.  Hence, comedies that make you laugh – as opposed to those that make you think – must be described as “stupid.”  Blazing Saddles and Meet the Parents, for example, may be based on subversive wit and a skilled escalation of comic anxiety (respectively), but they are still described as “stupid” even by those who admit enjoying them.  Another PC rule is that Hollywood produces drek while independent cinema is invariably marvelous.

          Yet the line between Hollywood and indie cinema is blurred today.  Miramax is now owned by Disney and one-time indie gods Robert Rodriguez and Kevin Smith bring us computer-generated Hollywood product like Spy Kids and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.  So now more than ever, people are falling back on the old, reliable “book was better” comment to make themselves sound like sophisticated viewers.

          Granted, sometimes the book really is better.  But the reverse can be true as well.  The Graduate and To Die For, books by Charles Webb and Joyce Maynard, respectively, would be completely forgotten now if not for Buck Henry, who adapted them into the movies that are now so well known and respected.  Buck Henry is just one of those people who can use a mediocre book as a thread that spins into movie magic.  William Goldman is another example.  Misery is certainly not Stephen King’s best book, but Goldman’s screenplay, by emphasizing the claustrophobic premise, turns the story into a more effective tale of suspense.  Indeed, Goldman’s talent at adapting books to the screen is so complete that even his own parodic novel, the over-rated The Princess Bride, becomes a movie that is infinitely better at balancing satire with sincerity.  Of course, both Misery and The Princess Bride were directed by Rob Reiner, whose beloved Stand by Me draws inspiration from “The Body,” one of King’s least compelling novellas.  And so on.

          All of these films share one thing in common:  They are not so much based on the details of the original stories as they are inspired by the spirit in which those stories were written.  In making a movie, a filmmaker’s priorities should be art and entertainment rather than word-for-word transliteration.  As Roger Ebert argues, fidelity should be a high priority with marriage, not with movies.

          One could learn a lot from The Mothman Prophecies, a movie based on the book of the same name by John A. Keel.  I am no auteurist, but I posit that of all cinematic genres, horror is most definitely a director’s medium.  Atmospheric direction in a horror film can cause viewers to overlook cheesy acting and weaknesses in the story’s logic.  Mark Pellington, the director of The Mothman Prophecies, knows this and goes all-out, pulling out all the stops to create such a level of unease that even the eyes of Debra Messing, that familiar face from “Will and Grace,” become nightmarishly creepy.

          The Mothman Prophecies, like so many other adaptations, sports some key differences between book and film versions.  Character, setting, and structure are all altered for the sake of translation from one form of entertainment to another.

          In terms of character, the key difference is the protagonist.  The protagonist of the book is the author himself, a parapsychologist and UFO analyst.  Keel is someone whose life revolves around looking for paranormal activity, so it is little wonder that he finds unexplained phenomena and points to it as proof of the extraterrestrial or supernatural.  Imagine meeting this guy at monthly cocktail parties.  He’s always talking about Bigfoot, demons, ghosts, and UFOs, so when he starts talking about the Mothman, who may be some weird amalgam of two or more of the above, no one would blame you for dismissing the subject with a roll of your eyes.  The book has an identical effect.  Keel comes across as a fanatic, a man who has spent so much of his life obsessing over the paranormal that his life has become consumed by it.

          John Klein, on the other hand, the protagonist played by Richard Gere in the film, has never given much thought to the supernatural.  Like Keel, Klein is a writer, but Klein has nothing to do with UFOs and the like.  A political commentator of some repute, Klein earns his living by analyzing some very mundane aspects of the real world.  Klein is a man who has both feet on the ground, which makes his plunge into the bizarre aspects of the Mothman prophecies all the more eerie.  The implication is that if such events can happen to a man like Klein, they could happen to anybody.  The unintended implication of the book, on the other hand, is that if such events can happen to a man like Keel, he’s obviously a nut.

          The events depicted in the book allegedly happened in 1966, but the movie wisely updates the story to the present, making the possibility of the Mothman more immediate.  Another significant change is in structure.  The book’s structure is erratic, as Keel jumps from incident to incident, subject to subject, with random abandon.  Yet aside from one significant transition – that old, reliable standby “two years later” – the movie maintains a narrative flow that the book most definitely lacks.  In both versions of The Mothman Prophecies, impossible occurrences and incredible coincidences abound, but in presenting these oddities from one particular character’s point of view, the movie effectively creates the illusion of an attempt to make sense of the mystery.  Indeed, some dialogue seems to slyly poke fun at the book’s frequent jumps in logic and time:  When the sheriff says, “He’s been dead for about three hours. . . when did you speak with him?” and Keel responds, “About an hour ago,” the sheriff grumbles, “I hate this!”

          The sheriff has no patience for disjointed continuity, and her frustration mirrors the feeling one gets from reading The Mothman Prophecies.  Does the book have its merits?  I suppose so.  But the movie was better.

The Man NOT From U.N.C.L.E.

I've been acquainting myself with a classic 60s series, The Man From UNCLE, for the first time. For those not familiar with the show, it's about the adventures of two spies -- a suave American with the unlikely name of "Napoleon Solo" and his Russian partner, Illya Kuryakin -- who work for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, an international organization that sort of works as an espionage version of Interpol.

The episodes vary widely in quality; some are boring, cheesy, and dated, while others are exciting and witty, with a James Bond flavor (which makes sense, since Bond creator Ian Fleming was a consultant for the show). For me, the best episode I've seen so far is definitely "The Project Strigas Affair."

The guest star for the episode is William Shatner, who plays Michael Donfield, a civilian recruited by UNCLE to help the regular characters on their latest case. That case involves removing Laslo Kurasov -- an ambassador for a fictional Balkan nation, and the presumptive next president of that nation -- from power, as his explicitly stated goal is to heighten tensions between the west and Eastern Europe until war breaks out.

Mr. Kurasov's political influence, and popularity among his own citizens, makes him untouchable for assassination, so the UNCLE agents instead devise a plot to neutralize him as a threat by ruining his political career. UNCLE leaks information to Mr. Kurasov's security team about a new secret weapon being developed by the U.S. military, a mysterious substance known only as "strigas." Their goal is to get Mr. Kurasov so intrigued that he will waste his nation's money and resources on the search for strigas, which in reality, of course, doesn't even exist.

That's where Shatner's character comes in, as the UNCLE agents recruit him to pose as the once loyal inventor of strigas, who is now looking for the highest bidder.

You may be able to spot a couple of plot holes already. For one thing, if Mr. Kurasov's evil intentions are such common knowledge among UNCLE agents, why can't they just inform the other diplomats, so they will not be so easily swayed by Mr. Kurasov's hawkish attitude? The bigger plot hole involves the basic concept of the episode: Why recruit a civilian for this case? Dialogue does try to provide an explanation: Donfield (Shatner) is an engineer, which lends him creedence as an inventor, and his recent past -- he just quit a highly lucrative job so that he can start his own business -- is sure to raise suspicion in anyone who performs a background check on him.

Still, none of that changes the fact that it all seems like a huge, and hugely pointless, risk. Donfield has no training, no experience, and no familiarity with protocol. Why put him in danger, and why risk the success of the whole operation on a civilian when UNCLE could just as easily assign an agent with undercover experience to pose as the inventor of strigas? With UNCLE's resources, they could easily create a false identity for such a man, including an equally intriguing past.

These plot holes occurred to me, but didn't bother me. Why? Because it's a fun ride, first of all. The writers pack a lot of suspense into this episode, and the general feel is similar to that of a heist film, even though nothing is actually being stolen. We stay on the edge of our seats waiting to see what the next step is in UNCLE'S plan, and whether or not Mr. Kurasov and his men will figure out that it's all a lie, thus putting Donfield's life in danger.

The most intriguing aspect of the episode is the central question, if the government asked you to risk your life for the good of the world, would you do it? How would you react? Would you be capable? Despite the unlikeliness of the entire scenario, the episode makes the events seem almost plausible, by virtue of Donfield's very realistic response to this unexpected call to duty. Sure, he eventually signs on, but first he thinks it's a misunderstanding, or a joke, or maybe these two people claiming to be international secret agents are just plain crazy.

Shatner's skilled performance has something to do with selling these points, but the real credit belongs to Henry Misrock, whose script hits all the right notes as we journey with Donfield through his adventures. Also, it's Donfield's inexperience, and the question that goes with it -- will Donfield make a mistake at a crucial moment? -- that adds a lot of extra suspense to this story. After all, the UNCLE agents know what to do when something goes wrong. Michael Donfield, however, is not a man from UNCLE, and so despite his best intentions, he really is a bit of a wild card.

Interestingly, many of these plot elements are echoed in a later episode, "The Foxes and Hound Affair," starring Patricia Medina and Vincent Price as two rival villains who match wits with each other, and with UNCLE, in their competition to get a promotion within their villainous organization. The plot again centers around a fantastical element -- instead of strigas, we now have a machine that allows its user to read minds -- and also again features a civilian who gets caught up in the action -- this time, it's a naive and timid young woman named Mimi Doolittle. Both episodes also make the odd decision to make the guest star the center of attention (although more so in "The Project Strigas Affair," less so in the later episode) only to never mention him again later in the series.

Furthermore, both episodes feature a villain who sort of sees through UNCLE's plans but his warnings are invariably and repeatedly ignored or mocked by his superiors. Price plays this role in "The Foxes and Hound Affair," as he repeatedly figures out UNCLE's plans, only to be over-ruled by rival villain Lucia Belmont. In the other episode, the role is played by Leonard Nimoy (that's right, Nimoy and Shatner together in the same episode before Star Trek!) who plays Vladeck, a henchman to the villainous ambassador. Mr. Kurasov dismisses all of Vladeck's information and warnings with barked orders and insults, repeatedly referring to him as "you fool." Part of the suspense in these episodes involves wondering whether the characters played by Nimoy and Price will ever get the satisfaction of showing up their incompetent bosses.

I thoroughly enjoyed Price's character -- Price himself is always fun as a performer, and I loved the friendly rivalry between Leo G. Carroll's good guy and Vincent Price's bad guy; they play for opposing teams, but still enjoy a friendship.

My only real problem with these episodes is how they treat women. Only three women get any good screen time in these episodes, and none of them are very flattering for the gender. The only notable female role in "The Project Strigas Affair" is Donfield's wife, who alternately supports, fears for, and scolds her husband, but never has any identity other than as a "wife." She adds absolutely nothing of significance to the story, nor to the world in which she inhabits.

"The Foxes and Hounds" affair features two central female characters, and while they both have a stronger identity than Mrs. Donfield in the other episode, neither portrayal is exactly feminist. First, there's Miss Doolittle, who is depicted as inadequate merely because she doesn't know how to effectively use her sexuality. When we first meet her, she's trying out for the role of a magician's assistant, and she is overwhelmed by the revealing nature of her costume (which really isn't that bad). She tries to protest, and cover her body with her arms, but eventually just reluctantly accepts the costume with a nervous laugh. She is depicted as being both embarrassed by and nervously excited by the costume's eroticism.

Later, when she and the UNCLE agents are captured by the bad guys, the agents devise an escape plan that hinges on Miss Doolittle's ability to seduce the guard. Miss Doolittle protests that she simply doesn't know how to be seductive, and her first attempt prompts the guard to say with contempt, "are you kidding?" UNCLE agent Kuryakin gripes, "you're a woman, haven't you had your basic training" in seduction? When she says that she hasn't, both spies -- the heroes! -- try to seduce her, in order to awaken the seductress inside of her. Her next attempt to seduce the guard succeeds.

The other female character central to the episode, Miss Belmont, would raise even more ire from feminist viewers. Miss Belmont is thirsty for promotion within her company, but her ambition is depicted as unrealistic. She repeatedly complains about how difficult it is for a woman to get ahead of the male competition, but her largest impediment is clearly not her gender but the fact that she is truly incompetent. She kidnaps the wrong agent, asks all the wrong questions, ignores warning signs from her peers, and lets the good guys escape. When combined with her complaints about the difficulties of the woman in the work place, her incompetence seems to be sending a clear message to female viewers -- and that message is that women should stay in the home. Like good ol' Mrs. Donfield, who knows her place is to stand by her man.

Wow. This blog entry started out with the intention of strongly recommending these two episodes for home viewing, but now I've almost talked myself out of it. Still, the fact remains that if you can get past the plot holes and the dated treatment of women (which seems more to be a product of its time than any actual contempt for women) these adventures can be a lot of fun.