Michael C. here to tackle a major philosophical issue. No poking fun at Ghost Rider this week. There are some questions a movie lover ponders for a lifetime. The big questions like where to sit in the theater (close enough to fill my field of vision but not so close I crane my neck) or Godfather Part I or Part II (Part I. You Part II people can have at me in the comments)
This week I thought I’d dive into one such big question the imminent release of Hunger Games has me contemplating. Is it better to read the book first or watch the movie?
For the purposes of this discussion let us assume that both book and movie are excellent. When one is clearly superior then the call is obvious. Better version first. Read I, Robot, The Road, Breakfast of Champions. Watch Jaws, Sideways, Wonder Boys. The lesser version can be an interesting bonus at best, a horrible afterthought at worst.
The real dilemma is when both versions promise to be excellent and one experience will inevitably compromises the purity of the other. I’ll state right up front that when put to it I’m a movie first guy. I watched the entirety of the Lord of the Rings not knowing if Frodo would make it back alive (I had read The Hobbit, which made for an ideal balance of acquainting myself with the world and preserving suspense. I recommend it)
So in the interest of fairness let me play Devil’s Advocate and make the case for book first to see if I can shake my position.
Books provide context
Book to film adaptations inevitably lop off huge chunks of backstory on the trip to the screen. When entire chapters of family history are reduced to a five seconds of Lisbeth Salander scrolling through pics on a laptop, having read the book becomes invaluable.
My response: A movie should stand on its own. “That was explained in the novel” is not a legitimate defense as far as I’m concerned. Also... sometimes lost is the correct place to be. I can’t deny being a Le Carre expert would have saved me a lot of confusion during Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, but then confusion was largely the point, wasn’t it?
Furthermore, familiarity with the original story makes one hyper-aware of shortcuts and omissions, a problem that doesn’t occur in the opposite direction. I enjoyed the new Pride and Prejudice quite a bit but a die-hard Austen fanatic friend of mine emerged from the theater ready to beat Joe Wright to death with a copy of Emma, so thoroughly had he butchered her beloved story.
You sacrifice suspense
No way around it. Unless the film is a wildly loose adaptation, the book is going to hold precious few surprises.
My response: For some reason this doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. I have a stronger memory of the great movie shocks of my life than I do of the great literary ones, so I tend to guard them more jealously. Maybe it is because the experience of reading a great book is so immersive that the pleasure of the twists often blends into the power of the novel as whole. In any case, I was riveted by McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men and Burgess’s Clockwork Orange despite having seen the two faithfully adapted films first, to name just two examples.
Your Imagination Gets Colonized
Seeing the film allows someone else first crack at interpreting a story and there is no going back. Can’t I have my own version of The Shining before I let Jack Nicholson take over the joint? Plus, there’s no guarantee the film delivers and then you’re stuck with repeated visions of Malin Ackerman while you are trying to enjoy Watchmen.
My response: This, to me, is the most compelling case for reading the book first. I defy anybody to read To Kill a Mockingbird without picturing Gregory Peck or Maltese Falcon without Peter Lorre.
Still, if the movie works, this tends to happen regardless of which came first. James Ellroy has said that he can’t help but picture Pearce and Crowe in LA Confidential and he created the characters from scratch. And I think we can more easily accept a book doesn’t match our preconceptions than we can a movie that substantially alters a character we already felt like we knew. The book, after all, cannot be held responsible for betraying our expectations.
What say you?
Is there some cost to my Movie First philosophy that I’m overlooking? Let me know in the comments. You can follow Michael C. on Twitter at @SeriousFilm or read his blog Serious Film. Previous Burning Questions...