Adapting literary standards to movies

When it comes to movies based on books, critics, paid and casual, often compare the books they read to the movies they watched. The movies generally suffer from that comparison, if only because readers tend to forget that the intricate detail incorporated within the book cannot be replicated in a 2-hour movie.

A handful of movies actually tell their stories better than the books. This particularly applies to classic literature: The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen, and anything by Charles Dickens come to mind. (I find reading Cooper and Dickens a terrible chore.) I believe that's because such novels were written when reading novels was a leisurely activity claimed by the wealthy few and books considered a luxury expense.

I have, however, learned to consider movies on their own merits and adapt my standards for literature to them. Because film imbues more of the senses than a book, the details have both greater latitude and less room for error. Take the new and popular Netflix series Bridgerton, based on Julia Quinn's Regency-era novels about the romantic escapades of the Bridgerton siblings. I've read most of the series and enjoy historical romances as a general rule.

English society, especially the haute ton, was largely homogeneous, yet the Netflix version's cast exemplifies the current mandate for diversity and inclusion. It's a bit jarring at first, knowing that historical inaccuracy; however, the writers and actors did a wonderful job of integrating that diversity in a society where no such diversity actually existed and suspending disbelief. Consider it a less farcical version of Victor Victoria, a film in which Julie Andrews played a woman playing a man playing a woman in the 1930s Paris.

Another such example of a movie based on a book and being good on its own merits is The Black Stallion. The book was written by Walter Farley in 1941, and the movie was produced by Francis Ford Coppola in 1979, before today's age of wow-inducing, digital effects. The movie relied on music (or its absence) and stunning cinematography (the underwater scenes are magnificent). It also diverged from the story on some key points yet, taken on its own merits, it's a wonderful story well told.

Kerry Greenwood's mysteries starring sophisticated sleuth Phryne Fisher, Agatha Christie's mysteries with fussy private detective Hercule Poirot, and G. K. Chesterton's compassionate portrayal of a priestly sleuth, Father Brown, all received excellent treatment in being converted from books to film.

Veering off that comparison, I also apply my standards for literature (a good story well told) to movies that are not--at least as far as I know--based on literature. That includes another Netflix series, a fantasy drama based on Arthurian legend. I didn't get through the first episode, because the story involved a heroine who ticks off those traits that most annoy me, one of which is the "TSTL factor." (TSTL in book reviewer parlance means "too stupid to live.")

Granted, transferring fantasy from paper (real or ebook) to screen (large or living room) poses some challenges few other genres fling at film crews. The Witcher did a good job of combining over-the-top campiness with storytelling, even if the storytelling confused anyone who didn't know that backstory. For another example, have you watched any of the superhero movies based on comics?

Getting back on track, the characters--people--are the primary element by which a book or movie connects with readers and viewers. We must find the protagonist at amusing, intriguing, or interesting even if we can't really relate to that personality. I don't know if I could be friends with Hercule Poirot, but he would capture my interest on other levels. There must be something about that character we find worthy of our attention.

Perhaps I'm just getting old and crotchety, but the protagonist of that series I recently attempted to watch struck me as a whiny, idiotic, and impulsive girl who's old enough to know better. No amount of special effects, thrilling music, or engaging secondary characters makes up for that disappointment.

I enjoy a lot of books and movies that cannot (and will never be) considered literary or cinematic masterpieces. That doesn't mean they're not good on other merits as determined by an adaptable standard for both literature and film. What standards do you use to determine whether a book or movie is worth your time and attention?

Every word counts.

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