One question we encounter frequently with film, because so many movies are derived from books, is 'which is better, the original text or the cinematic version?' In a way, this is an unfair question. After all, each medium stands on its own, so a movie is either worthy or it isn’t regardless of where its script originates. What’s more the question tends to get asked only when the book is of note. Alfred Hitchcock, for example, made a great movie called To Catch a Thief (1955) with a screenplay from a David Dodge book of the same name. As much as we say about Hitchcock’s auteurist and distinctive approach to film-making, the movie followed the text very closely. But no one remarks on that because few have ever heard of the book.
That’s less true of a book and movie like High Fidelity (or for that matter True Grit, a highly acclaimed novel from the 1960s that has now been made into two famous movies, the most recent of which, by the Coen brothers, may win an Oscar). A conversation about High Fidelity frequently includes references to Nick Hornby’s novel. In both works, John Cusack plays a local record shop owner who spends much of his time reviewing the rollercoaster of his romantic relationships. The most charming aspect of Hornby’s book is that Rob specifies his moods and concerns by making lists – lists of albums, lists of his own life events, lists of musicians. At one point, for example, he lists his top five break ups of all time.
But Rob’s lists represent a desperate attempt to put the things that happen to him romantically in some sort of context because he “fails to comprehend the complexities of the female gender [and] surrounds his attempt to understand his current challenging break up through the examination of his past failed romances.” Rob fights off this pattern of self loathing and self deprecation by creating the lists and constantly asking his friends to create lists, like ones of their top 10 artists of all time. When it comes down to it, Rob is a true music lover, and a true romantic. He’s struggling to find out who he is, and ultimately, why did those girls dump him!
In the book, these lists are hilarious little side-bars, which evoke for the reader either mystification (what’s that about???) or sympathetic connection. They’re like organized similes. For director Stephen Frears (The Grifters, The Queen), the challenge is to take something fairly literary but essential (the lists say a ton about Rob’s character), and translate it into a medium that is visual and realistic. Part of the success of the film version is Frears’ choice of John Cusack, an award winning actor, to play Rob.
John Cusack’s Rob is hopelessly lost, forever confused lover boy of the late ‘90s. Cusack is the kind of actor whose sincerity and perpetual youthfulness allow him to pull off the very literary sort of lines that open the film: “What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music? Rob tries to answer the questions we are too scared to ask ourselves! Was she the right one? Or did I just let the right one slip between my fingers? Shit… is there even someone who is the one?” NO body talks like that. But by the end of the speech, we like Rob, partly because we like Cusack.
So where does all this get us? If you haven’t read the book, it won’t matter. The movie is the movie. Cusack is Rob. The writing is engaging and fun. If you have read the book, you have the option on a great conversation. The question is never “which is better?” It’s how do the two works talk to each other? What does Cusack do to your original impression of Rob? What did Frears choose to leave out, and what effect did that have? What insights did the film’s changes (differences from the original text) reveal about what the film-maker thought about the story? Or what impact did experiencing the story in a visual medium rather than a literary one have on you? Those are fun questions. We hope you enjoy High Fidelity and come up with some questions of your own. Or if you haven’t read the book, maybe you’ll check it out so you can.
C. Dowdle and R. Findlay
Film Club
No comments:
Post a Comment