"What does he mean, 'we'll all die'?" "We'll all die?"
The question of my favourite book-made-movie is one that has haunted me for many years; generally, I believe in the power of the Written Word over the Power of Celluloid, but there are some books that make wonderful films. I've whittled it down to my top three-I Capture the Castle, the Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility, and the BBC Pride and Prejudice-but asking me to choose between those would truly be torture.
The Spiderwick Chronicles, while not perfect, manages to come close.
Although huge chunks were cut out (the majority of one of the books), I think that they chose which parts to include quite well, altering events to clarify the situation. It's a movie that you can see without reading the books, although I highly recommend the books. My main problem with cutting scenes is that it creates issues with characterisation-without those small moments of revelation, the characters suddenly becomes cardboard cutouts.
Spiderwick didn't do that-within the first five minutes, you understood the roles of all three of the children and their mother, and saw how they transcended them. The Jared on the screen was my Jared, with his temper tantrums and frustration. Even though Mallory is my favourite character, Jared is what makes the books work, and I thought that was carried over well. (I thought the boy they had playing Jared and Simon was brilliant.)
My only major quibble is with the adult actors, actually. With the exception of the mother, I thought that the children far outshone the adults, which is a bit of a reversal, but made the film a better one than it would have been, so I suppose it's not worth complaining about...
My Inner Bookstore Employee (who am I kidding-my Very Outer Bookstore Employee) was pleased to see the faces of small children who had read the books bright with anticipation in the theatre. Children who read make me want to place some faith in humanity...
And, now, since fantasy seems to be the theme of the day (theme of my life, really), I have a book rec for you-first one of the year.
I picked up an old ARC of Ysabeau S. Wilce's (first off, with a name like that, how could she write anything bad?) Flora Segunda at work last weekend, thinking it would balance out the high literary things that my brain has been imbibing of late. I quickly abandoned the books that I am paying tuition to read, first to tentatively nibble, then to gorge myself on this book.
While I have a few reservations about the style (I thought the narrative voice was a bit too juvenile, particularly for a fourteen year old character), I loved it. It completely won me over with its weirdness: glittering butlers with more arcane abilities than Jeeves, a spunky-without going over the top-redheaded heroine, and her best friend, who spends much of the book with strange and fanciful hats perched on his head. Oh, and he wants to be a pirate. As this was a much-cherished childhood dream of mine, I was in love within a sentence.
The world that she creates is very whimsical, but, unlike in some books, it doesn't grow old-darkness lurks beneath all of the oddities, only the most evil force is not external to the characters. The book doesn't dissolve into rampant silliness, even if the silliness is rampant; it achieves the fine balance between silly and serious that enabled me to enjoy both aspects and feel for the character, even when I was giggling.
I greatly look forward to reading the follow-up.
The Spiderwick Chronicles, while not perfect, manages to come close.
Although huge chunks were cut out (the majority of one of the books), I think that they chose which parts to include quite well, altering events to clarify the situation. It's a movie that you can see without reading the books, although I highly recommend the books. My main problem with cutting scenes is that it creates issues with characterisation-without those small moments of revelation, the characters suddenly becomes cardboard cutouts.
Spiderwick didn't do that-within the first five minutes, you understood the roles of all three of the children and their mother, and saw how they transcended them. The Jared on the screen was my Jared, with his temper tantrums and frustration. Even though Mallory is my favourite character, Jared is what makes the books work, and I thought that was carried over well. (I thought the boy they had playing Jared and Simon was brilliant.)
My only major quibble is with the adult actors, actually. With the exception of the mother, I thought that the children far outshone the adults, which is a bit of a reversal, but made the film a better one than it would have been, so I suppose it's not worth complaining about...
My Inner Bookstore Employee (who am I kidding-my Very Outer Bookstore Employee) was pleased to see the faces of small children who had read the books bright with anticipation in the theatre. Children who read make me want to place some faith in humanity...
And, now, since fantasy seems to be the theme of the day (theme of my life, really), I have a book rec for you-first one of the year.
I picked up an old ARC of Ysabeau S. Wilce's (first off, with a name like that, how could she write anything bad?) Flora Segunda at work last weekend, thinking it would balance out the high literary things that my brain has been imbibing of late. I quickly abandoned the books that I am paying tuition to read, first to tentatively nibble, then to gorge myself on this book.
While I have a few reservations about the style (I thought the narrative voice was a bit too juvenile, particularly for a fourteen year old character), I loved it. It completely won me over with its weirdness: glittering butlers with more arcane abilities than Jeeves, a spunky-without going over the top-redheaded heroine, and her best friend, who spends much of the book with strange and fanciful hats perched on his head. Oh, and he wants to be a pirate. As this was a much-cherished childhood dream of mine, I was in love within a sentence.
The world that she creates is very whimsical, but, unlike in some books, it doesn't grow old-darkness lurks beneath all of the oddities, only the most evil force is not external to the characters. The book doesn't dissolve into rampant silliness, even if the silliness is rampant; it achieves the fine balance between silly and serious that enabled me to enjoy both aspects and feel for the character, even when I was giggling.
I greatly look forward to reading the follow-up.