SpoutBlog on spout.com

Under discussion:

Scaramouche  (1952)

Sister Act  (1992)

Star Wars  (1977)

Trading Places  (1983)

The 3 Worlds of Gulliver  (1960)

Face/Off  (1997)

Gulliver's Travels  (1995)

What Dreams May Come  (1998)

The Bourne Identity  (2002)

Treasure Planet  (2002)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest  (2006)

Wanted  (2008)

Yesterday I wrote of the news that Wanted director Timur Bekmambetov is helming an effects-heavy adaptation of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. It’s not entirely shocking, but it does still seem like a cruel joke. More specifically, it sounds like something Jasper Fforde would jest about in his Thursday Next novels. Of course, the news came just as I’m in the middle of Fforde’s latest, First Among Sequels, in which Pride and Prejudice is turned into a reality TV show.

Although I’m not exactly well read as far as literary classics go, I’ve been wondering what other revered books (particularly those in the public domain) could be reworked as potential summer blockbusters. Obviously, there are certain sci-fi, fantasy and adventure novels that work, yet the fitting fictions of Verne, Wells, Burroughs, Dumas and others are already fodder for cheap movies with lots of action and/or special effects. Therefore, I’ve tried to limit my choices to those books that aren’t such easy candidates for a Memorial Day weekend opening.

1. The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri

Dante’s epic poem has inspired a few films over the years, including the hugely successful 1911 silent L’Inferno, but it’s about time for Hollywood to bastardize the otherworldly tale with lots of computer-generated visuals. Maybe you’re thinking that What Dreams Come already made some attempt at this, and it failed at the box office. Sure, but it was still an awesome spectacle of a film. Now, think of something similar starring Will Smith as Dante. And some rewrites to allow for more fight scenes (yes, even in Heaven). The poem will be divided into a trilogy of films, of course.

2. Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift

Georges Méliès, the original visual-effects cinema showman, made the first adaptation of Swift’s satire, and a later version featured special effects from stop-motion master Ray Harryhausen. The last adaptation also had decent effects, at least for a TV miniseries, but it’s high time for a new big screen attempt, which shall employ all the latest effects innovations. And Will Ferrell. It should also have a more contemporary setting and lose all the allegory and commentary stuff. Nobody needs to be thinking about antiquated messages at the multiplex; they just want to watch giant people destroying little cities, pirate attacks and other straightforward spectacles.

3. Candide by Voltaire

Similarly, Voltaire’s satire could be made into a more straightforward adventure through life’s calamities. And yet just by adhering to the basic plot, the main idea could still be communicated without making the audience think they’ve actually been made to think about it. It should probably be modernized, and it should probably star Shia LaBeouf.

4. Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini

I guess a modernization of this classic would seem like just any other movie about a man forced into hiding as an actor, and a more faithful adaptation would probably not feature a better swordfight than the one in MGM’s 1952 version. So, it should be reset in the future, should star James Franco, who is due for more action and more comedy, and be some kind of cross between Sister Act and Star Wars.

5. Oedipus Rex by Sophocles

I’m picturing Nicolas Cage in yet another movie involving prophecies. Only in this one, he not only can’t avoid killing his father and mating with his mother, he also fails to save the world from an apocalypse. See, the movie is about how you can’t change your destiny, and it’s also about a lot of cool and disastrous destruction occurring at the film’s climax.

6. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

Matt Damon is reunited with director Terry Gilliam for an absurd action movie that’s as much The Bourne Identity as it is The Metamorphosis. Damon plays Gregor, a man who wakes up one day to find he’s a giant bug. That’s about as far as Kafka’s story is retained. From there, he must go on the run while being chased by an organization of pest control operatives in an attempt to find out why he’s transformed and how he can return to human form.

7. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

I know, it’s been filmed a billion times, and it’s technically one of those books I wanted to exclude on account of its ease in becoming a blockbuster. But here’s the thing: it would be completely different this time, and I don’t mean because it will be set in space. That’s already been done. No, instead, thanks to the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, the story of Jim Hawkins (Cameron Bright) and Long John Silver (Gerard Butler) will include some paranormal additions, courtesy of Hollywood’s idea of poetic license.

8. The Last Days of Pompeii by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

I don’t know if this is still considered a classic, but as long as the adaptation of Robert Harris’ Pompeii book (which was once to be directed by Roman Polanski) is struggling to get made, now is the chance for some big producer to get a blockbuster made out of this book. And worse comes to worse, there ends up being competing Pompeii movies, which would fit in with the tradition of disaster movies anyway.

9. The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain

In a way, this movie will just be a combo of Trading Places and Face/Off, but it will have that more respectable title and a less respectable script. And Nic Cage can again play twins.

10. Don Quixote by Cervantes

Many of cinema’s greatest filmmakers have had the ambition to make a great adaptation of Cervantes’ masterpiece. And now it’s time for Michael Bay to admit he’d also like to give it a try. And with a big enough budget, he’ll succeed, though it won’t exactly be faithful to the book. Instead it will be about a man (Nic Cage again) who’s seen too many action movies and so, with great delusions, takes it upon himself to become an action hero. I can’t wait to watch all those windmills explode!

Under discussion:

Choke  (2008)

Chuck Palahniuk, the author behind David Fincher’s Fight Club and Clark Gregg’s Choke, opening in theaters this Friday 9/26, pens intelligent, well-written junk food. I enjoy reading all his books, and even have a friend I nicknamed Brandy Alexander after the transgender lead character in Invisible Monsters, yet whenever someone asks me the plot of a particular novel that isn’t Invisible Monsters, I draw a blank. I mean, I’m certain I’ve read his books, just like I’m certain I ate dinner last Thursday, I just can’t tell you exactly what it was.

So when I learned I had an email interview with the author himself scheduled I had to dig out my old copy of Choke and check the jacket. Ah, sex addicts who work at a fake Colonial village – how could I have forgotten? No matter. The writing is terrific. Palahniuk might be able to shed some light on the grander themes he seems to be addressing, from numb consumer culture to transgender issues to the difference between nonfiction “truth” versus “truth” in fiction, I reasoned.

You see, I just couldn’t accept Choke on the same terms as a piece of well-made but empty entertainment like The Scorpion King, which worked because it didn’t overreach beyond what was necessary, tailored the script specifically to The Rock’s charming, self-deprecating personality and nothing more. I wanted to know why I always felt an important statement about society was being made in Palahniuk’s books.

But after finally interviewing the author I got a strong sense that his working method is more akin to that of the car mechanic he was for years. As a writer he seems to take the same sort of Meyerhold biomechanics approach (“I saw a bear, I ran, I was afraid”) that I learned in acting school. In other words, through the physical, mechanical act of writing – and not reflection – he gets at a deeper truth. Which is deep in itself. Now if only I could remember what Rant was about…

LW: Choke deals with sex addicts similarly to how Terry Southern treats bombshell virgins and porn stars - as social satire. In other words, there is very little that is “sexy” about your (or Southern’s) work. Sex is just another part of our numb consumer culture. Can you discuss this more?

CP: Actually the sex in Choke — like the violence in Fight Club — is merely physical business for the characters, to keep their hands and feet busy while they say their dialogue. Otherwise, you just have talking heads, and I loathe that type of fiction. We adore films because the moving object is so hypnotic. Books can hold our attention with that same device.

During the “Antidote Films vs. JT Leroy” lawsuit I started writing about the fine line between fiction and nonfiction – and does it even matter? As the author of a nonfiction memoir that was marketed as fiction I find this whole quest for “truth” absurd since there is no definitive “truth” – truth is always subjective. You write nonfiction as well, and your novels contain more elements of reality than certain historical documents (and there’s even the fake Colonial village in Choke). What is your take on this debate?

There’s a world of difference between fiction which presents itself as such… and a person telephoning you at all hours, sobbing and claiming to be a child sex worker dying of AIDS. For hours, claiming to be crippled because he/she had been fisted so brutally by a sadistic john. Such a callous deception undermines all sympathy for and desire to help real people suffering in those circumstances.

I jotted down this terrific quote from you right after Invisible Monsters came out: “Brandy Alexander doesn’t really want a sex change. And in a way, having it was the most important thing she could think to do, because it would destroy an identity that was being imposed upon her by society.” As a genderqueer person who defiantly refuses to conform to society’s “insides must match outsides” rule, I’ve always considered the notion of having a sex change kissing up to the mainstream, i.e., why is it my duty to make others feel comfortable? To say that transgender people are in the “wrong” bodies implies that there is such a thing as a “right” body. You also seem interested in this notion of “transcending” society’s dictates – Jesus has a big role in Choke – rather than conforming. Can you talk a bit about this and how it plays out in your work?

Say, what?

What is it like to have a character that’s been living in your head appear onscreen in flesh and blood form? Have there been actors who didn’t live up to your idea of the character or who exceeded your expectations?

The trick is to not have expectations. Instead to allow the world to present itself and trust that everyone is doing their best. Sorry to sound so passive, but I’ve learned to control only what I can control: the original stories.

What is it like to lose control of your story through the filmmaking process?

It’s intoxicating, to be around people who love their work — are so passionate about their work — people who are so smart and diligent. It gets me high. God, this is what high school should’ve felt like.

Are there certain actors or a particular director you dream of attaching to any filmed versions of your books?

Sam Rockwell, always. Kate Beckinsale. Bette Davis. Louise Brooks. Ruth Gordon. Jack Webb, when he was younger. You did say ‘Dream.’

Are you interested in delving into screenwriting and/or directing?

I also dream of flying and being invisible, but I’ve no talent at those skills, either.

How has the process of turning Choke into a movie differed from that of Fight Club?

David Mamet advised Clark Gregg to conduct a film set like a party. That a director should facilitate everyone to enjoy themselves. Clark had to film so much each day that the shooting never seemed to linger on any one scene. Filming Choke was more like a party, with a constantly changing focus for our attention. And excellent catering.

Which writers do you look to for inspiration?

Amy Hempel. Katherine Dunn. Denis Johnson. Irvine Welsh.

Your writing has a strong sense of location. Much like Armistead Maupin could only be a San Franciscan, I would never mistake you for an east or west coast author. How important is residing in the Northwest to your work?

Huh? I must be stumbling. My goal is always to avoid too specific a setting. Only my third book, Invisible Monsters, cites a city. By avoiding descriptions of place, and physical descriptions of characters, I allow readers to insert details from their own lives. Instead of description I concentrate on keeping everyone in action — fighting and fucking — so the plot escalates more quickly. Like everybody, I love Maupin, but setting a story in a specific city also excludes readers who live elsewhere. Verbs exclude no one.

Under discussion:

There Will Be Blood  (2007)

Timecrimes  (2008)

I Think We're Alone Now  (2008)

If distributors came to Fantastic Fest this year looking for the next Timecrimes, and badge holders descended hungry for a peek at the next There Will Be Blood, it’s interesting that one of the most talked about films on the schedule has ended up being not a world premiere, not a surprise preview of an Oscar contender, not an unknown international oddity, and not even, really, a genre film, but a documentary made by an American 25 year-old which has been on the festival circuit for nine months.

And yet, the popularity of I Think We’re Alone Now (otherwise known as The Tiffany Stalker Movie) at Fantastic Fest makes a certain perfect sense, and not just because this audience is accustomed to stories of sexual obsession (usually fictional, usually much gorier). In putting a camera in the faces of two lonely, mentally unwell adults, who are both desperate for the attention but incapable of filtering their stories, director Sean Donnelly has made what could be classified as an exploitation film. But even more appropriate for the venue, it’s an exploitation film tailor-made for anyone familiar with unrequited longing, and it wouldn’t work at all if Donnelly’s genuine care for his subjects didn’t shine through.

Donnelly, who grew up in Santa Cruz, CA, began filming middle-aged local character Jeff Turner when he was a sophomore in college. Jeff, who has Asperger’s, is full of stories, which he related in a rapid-fire ramble. Eventually, he reveals evidence of his “special relationship” with Tiffany, the 80s teen pop singer–turned–Celebreality staple. Jeff goes back and forth between referring to Tiffany as his true love (who, he claims, posed for PLAYBOY as a coded message just for him) and his best friend, but perhaps the most “special” thing about their bond is that Tiffany got a restraining order against Jeff when he showed up to her emancipation hearing in the late 80s hoping to give the star a samurai sword. (We see the restraining order in a folder full of papers, including press clippings about the incident and Jeff’s returned letters to Tiffany, all written in careful schoolgirl’s cursive).

Seemingly unrelated to Jeff but commonly disturbed, Denver-based Kelly is an intersex woman whose apartment walls are plastered with black and white photographs of Tiffany. While Jeff’s delusions––from his insistence that he and Tiffany psychicly communicate via some kind of a helmet, to his conviction that all of the attendees of an erotic convention had already been saved by God––mostly manifest themselves in skewed assumptions about the outside world, Kelly can’t even get to that point, because she’s so deluded about her self. Where Jeff uses his own disability insurance to travel the Southwest attending any and every Tiffany event he can, Kelly’s never even been to a Tiffany concert. She loves from afar, sadly admitting that “Cupid never came around” to her house, but maintaining that she and Tiffany are destined to be together. Living on SSDI governmental assistance since an accident that left her in a coma for weeks, the 30-something Kelly seems to be mentally stuck at a much earlier age; in addition to her immature insistence ideas about romance, Kelly brags and exaggerates about her physique and athletic prowess like a child.

If this sounds creepy, at times, it is. Donnelly offers more than a few opportunities to laugh and/or cringe at the obsessive Tiffany fans, but it’s the sadness of their situations that ends up staying with you. Though the stalkers are obviously living in extreme states of fantasy, there’s a thread to their emotional mania that should be recognizable to anyone who has ever felt like they “deserved” love they couldn’t get, to anyone who’s been rendered powerless by their attraction to someone who just doesn’t care. It’s to Donnelly’s credit that he stays with his subjects until their respective cloud covers part a bit, but we never get the sense that there will be anything like “normal” romance awaiting either Jeff or Kelly. I Think We’re Alone Now never artificially humanizes its characters, but it makes it a little easier to understand how a life almost totally devoid of affection or compassion could help treatable psychological issues mutate into unnavigable madness.