Note: Playing this will greatly improve your reading experience.
Yojimbo was directed by Akira Kurosawa and was inspired by the writings of Dashiell Hammett. Kurosawa cited The Glass Key as a major influence (which shows, particularly when the protagonist is captured and beaten), but really it has more in common with another Hammett novel, Red Harvest. In Red Harvest an unnamed operative of the Continental Detective Agency goes to the city of Personville (lovingly nicknamed "Poisonville) to meet a man named Donald Willsson, but when he gets there, he finds that Willsson has been murdered. During his investigation, the Continental Op learns that Personville is run by crooks and decides to clean up.
"Poisonville is ripe for the harvest. It’s a job I like, and I’m going to do it.” - The Continental Op
Yojimbo is about a ronin (a samurai without a lord or master) who wanders into a village ravaged by two rival gangs. He identifies himself only as Sanjuro (meaning thirty-year-old man) and plots to bring down both gangs by playing them against each other.
"I get paid for killing, and this town is full of people who deserve to die." - Sanjuro
This is one of my favorite movies of all time and it has a strong legacy. In the English speaking world, it has been remade as Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars and as Walter Hill's Last Man Standing. Sanjuro is also the template for the Man With No Name character archetype made famous by Clint Eastwood's character in the Dollars Trilogy.
This lone, stoic, and nameless anti-hero is common in westerns, but can be found in other genres as well; for example, Ryan Gosling's character in Drive. Hell, Sanjuro was even the inspiration for SNL's Samurai Futaba skits with John Belushi. It certainly doesn't hurt that Sanjuro is played by Toshiro Mifune, one of the five best actors for portraying badassery; the other four being Clint Eastwood, Bruce Lee, Samuel L. "Motherfucking" Jackson, and Reb Brown.
Pictured Above: Badass
The story of Red Harvest is a hard-boiled crime fiction turned Japanese period drama turned spaghetti western. If that isn't awesome, then I want to be the lamest guy this side of Crazy Quilt.
Alice was directed by Jan Svankmajer in 1988 and is inspired by Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Svankmajer is a Czech surrealist known for his use of stop-motion animation. Alice combines stop-motion with live action to create a visually impressive retelling of the classic children's story. This film never strays far from the original in terms of plot, but it isn't really about telling a story. Above all, Alice is an art film. It uses Wonderland as an inspiration, but it's not actually about Wonderland, so much as about making a brilliant piece of surrealist animation.
Unlike most adaptations of Wonderland, Alice never lets the audience get too comfortable in the setting. Take this scene for example.
That probably seemed like a long seven minutes. This movie's pace borders on agonizing, which allows the bizarre nature of the film to really sink in. Also, take note of the sounds in this scene. There is no music and the sound effects are harsh and mechanical. The whole movie is like that. Furthermore, there is very little dialogue and every character is voiced by the same person. Altogether, this makes the movie sound just as unsettling as it looks.
Another interesting touch is that nearly everything is made out of household objects. Where most versions of Wonderland have a setting and characters that are completely imaginary, Alice opts to take the familiar and make it strange. For example, the March Hare is a wind up toy, the King and Queen are cut out from playing cards...
... and the Caterpillar is a sock with googly eyes and dentures.
The slow pace and dark tone makes Alice feel more like a weird dream than a fairy-tale. That concept may turn some people off, but I still recommend giving it a shot. We don't see a lot of stop-motion these days outside of Robot Chicken and this is as good an example of the technique as any. Even better, you can brag to your friends about how artsy you are afterward.
V for Vendetta was directed by James McTeigue and is based on the graphic novel of the same name, written by Alan Moore and drawn by David Lloyd. Watchmen was directed by Zack Snyder and is based on the graphic novel Watchmen, also written by Alan Moore and drawn by Dave Gibbons. What makes an adaptation good? Should it stay as true to the source material as possible, risking awkward translation and redundancy? Or should it take the basic premise of the original, put its own spin on it, and risk losing the heart and soul of what it is supposed to be based on? These two films showcase the possibilities, as well as the limitations of both approaches. Also, it gives me a reason to talk about comics. V for Vendetta is an action/thriller that takes many, many liberties with the source material. Watchmen is essentially the abridged version of the graphic novel and only makes one major change (which is too much of a spoiler to discuss here). Rather than summarize the novels myself, I'll let Alan Moore take it from here.
The film version of Vendetta is certainly less intelligent and challenging than the novel. I don't mean that as an attack, but it's true and even the film's strongest supporters would be hard pressed to deny it. The moral ambiguity is almost completely lost, with V (our Guy Fawkes mask wearing protagonist) being a heroic freedom fighter and the authorities V fights being irredeemable monsters, and most of the plot has been cut out. This doesn't automatically make it bad, though. The cinematography in this movie is excellent and it is beautifully shot and edited all the way through. Ironically, it is also one of the more intelligent comic book movies out there (I don't know if that says more about the movie or Hollywood) and who doesn't love the scene where V first introduces himself?
It may not be fair to begrudge this movie for the how different it is from the source material. Alan Moore's novel is so brilliant and so complex that any attempt to recreate it in a two to three hour film would be laughably doomed from the start. Then again, we all thought the same thing about Watchmen (many still do).
Spoiler Warning: Moore talks about a character's death from 3:22-3:56
When I first heard Zack Snyder, the same man who directed 300, would be directing the Watchmen movie, I was very, very skeptical. For those of you who haven't seen 300, its most notable achievement is that it somehow manages to be homophobic and homoerotic at the same time. It's the Jungian thing, I guess. As entertaining as this is, it doesn't exactly engender much confidence in Snyder's ability to do a subtle deconstruction of the superhero genre. Turns out I wasn't being entirely fair to the guy. Snyder, if nothing else, at least knows how to put a comic in motion and the film sticks strictly to the source material (with the one aforementioned exception). Nearly every line of dialogue is a direct quote from the novel. Such adherence to the novel, however, isn't without its problems.
"The graphic novel 'Watchmen' is such a dark, densely layered and yes,
cinematic work of art that it feels like you're immersed in a movie as
you experience it. But the advantage of the book is you can pause and go
back a few pages, or take a moment to consider the ramifications of the
flashbacks (and the flashbacks within the flashbacks). You can take
your time perusing the frames for small touches.
With a movie, it just washes over you. If you don't know these
characters from the novel, you're going to have a hell of time keeping
up with their multi-decade soap opera." - Richard Roeper
Of course, whatever flaws this movie has, it certainly has its moments of greatness as well. Take the title sequence for example. You might be thinking that I'm really reaching for something positive to say about it if I have to look to the opening credits; not so. This sequence is brilliant, as it establishes the history of the first generation of superheroes, the rise and fall of superheroes, and the film's tone, all in under six minutes.
As to the question asked in the first paragraph, there is no real answer and both approaches to adaptation have flaws and merits. Ultimately, it comes down to the quality of the individual work, as these these two love-or-hate films demonstrate.
"A new Hedonism--that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol. With your personality there is nothing you could not do. The world belongs to you for a season...." - Lord Henry Wotton.
Dorian Gray was made in 2009 and directed by Oliver Parker. It is based on Oscar Wilde's first and only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. It is the Faustian tale of a young man who, upon seeing a portrait of himself and becoming enamored with his own beauty, trades his soul for eternal youth. From that moment on, the painting ages in his place. It even grows hideous with Dorian's increasing decadence. As one might expect, the film plays up the novel's horror elements and even inserts some of it's own. For example, the movie adds an abusive grandfather subplot which never goes anywhere and has nothing to do with the overall story. The closest it gets to relevance is a scene where Dorian discovers the scars on his back (given to him by said grandfather) are gone, implying the picture gives him a mutant healing factor.
Pictured Above: Weapon X
Okay, the novel never explicitly says the picture doesn't assume Dorian's physical wounds, but considering that little detailnever comes up again either it's still rather pointless. Speaking of pointless, Basil Hallward, the guy who painted Dorian's picture, doesn't really seem to matter much in the film. In the book he's just about all that remains of Dorian's conscious, but in the movie he only exists to paint the portrait and, later, to show the audience how far Dorian has fallen. This brings us to Dorian's other influence, Harry.
"You would sacrifice anybody, Harry, for the sake of an epigram." - Dorian Gray.
If Dorian Gray is Faust, then Lord Henry "Harry" Wotton is the Devil, though not a literal devil like Mephistopheles. That's what makes him interesting, though, as he seems oblivious to his status as Prince of Lies. He's not even all that evil; immoral perhaps, but not outright evil. As much as he promotes nihilistic hedonism, he never actually does anything all that bad. Oh sure, he's a bad influence on Dorian, but Basil considers Henry to be one of his best friends and he's still a nice guy. In fact, Dorian is the only person who responds to Henry's sayings with anything other than shock and/or contempt.The kid has no real opinions or convictions of his own and sucks up Henry's every casual remark like a sponge.
"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful." - Lord Henry Wotton.
"I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am too much in love. That is one of your aphorisms. I am putting it into practice, as I do everything that you say." - Dorian Gray.
Henry sure doesn't seem to fully realize what he's done. When Dorian confesses to murder, Henry just laughs it off in disbelief and tells the kid to go play with his dolls. Really, his corruption of Dorian comes off as being less like this...
...and more like this.
Only instead of a pole it's hookers and blow.
In the film, Henry is much more sinister, at least at first, and much of his wit and charm is lost because of it. We frequently see him looking at Dorian in ways that could only be more villainous if he had a twirly mustache and a bi-plane. He also has this tendency to look on diabolically from the shadows when Dorian joins him in the Dark Side. Then this happens.
Emily Wotton is original to the movie and serves to give Dorian one last chance at redemption, while at the same time turning Henry into a loving father trying to protect his only child from Dorian's wickedness. The movie suddenly starts portraying Beelzebub and the walking STD sympathetically, while pitting them against each other in a rather forced conflict. This is the film's biggest flaw; in the third act, it tries to be too many things. As soon as Emily is introduced, what began as a drama/horror about what happens when man is freed from consequence becomes the story of a lost soul finding his way with the power of love; a man who has to defend his family from a monster of his own creation a la Victor Frankenstein; an unfettered id confronting a hypocritical superego and, of course, what happens when man is freed from consequence. As interesting as all this could have been, the last half-hour of a two hour film just isn't enough time to properly introduce and develop these themes. Sadly, Dorian Gray took to long to realize what it wanted to be.
