Words to images, page to screen

"Entertainment Weekly" cover shot by David Fincher

I’m so excited about the upcoming film adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s novel “Gone Girl,” an unusual thriller about a husband suspected of murdering his missing wife. I enjoyed the book, but I’m probably most excited about the movie because it will be directed by one of my favorite modern directors – David Fincher. Fincher has a way with dark stories of murder and mystery (see “Zodiac,” “Se7en” and “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”), and I’m confident his take on “Gone Girl” will not disappoint.

The anticipation of Fincher’s “Gone Girl” adaptation got me to thinking about some other books I’ve read that I would love to see interpreted on the big screen.

Another Country by James Baldwin

Published in 1962, this incredible novel is about several friends in New York City and how their lives change after one of them commits suicide. It deals with issues of race and sexuality at a time when those issues were just being discussed openly and challenged in mainstream society. I found it interesting that Baldwin covered the loneliness and devotion that arises from both single and traditional family relationships with such shattered bitterness and candor but also with such hope and longing. It would be quite a challenge to get this one right on film, but perhaps there are some screenwriters and directors capable of doing it justice. If only Eric Rohmer were still alive.

The Alienist by Caleb Carr

I’m a huge mystery/thriller fan, and this popular 1994 novel ranks right up there with “The Silence of the Lambs” for me in terms of intriguing characters and suspenseful writing. The story is set in 1896, long before psychological profiling was taken seriously, and pairs a New York Times crime reporter with a psychologist (alienist) and a police department secretary, all working at the behest of the forward-thinking police commissioner who happens to be Theodore Roosevelt. They are seeking a particularly brutal serial killer of adolescent boys, both disturbing and controversial, and arguably one of the reasons it has never been adapted for the movies. Whatever your take on whether audiences can handle the subject matter, it’s a great story that would make a great film in the right filmmaker’s hands.    

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

Ah, that Gillian Flynn again. I’ve already declared my love for mystery/thrillers, so naturally at least one of Flynn’s earlier books would make this list. It can only be one because she only has three books to her credit, and two of them – “Gone Girl” and “Dark Places” – are already in production. The one I would love to see most is her first novel, “Sharp Objects” (2006). The heroine, Camille, is a journalist who returns to her hometown to cover the murder of two adolescent girls. But her homecoming is rife with potentially damaging consequences due to her passive-aggressively abusive mother (one of the best villains of recent literature). Camille’s childhood wounds have led to her inflicting physical wounds on herself; she is a cutter, someone who cuts herself to deal with her emotional pain. And apparently that type doesn’t fly with producers looking to green light a major motion picture. But here’s hoping a capable producer and filmmaker can prove that audiences can handle a damaged heroine who solves the crimes committed against herself and others.

Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

In Toni Morrison’s 1974 novel, Macon Dead Jr., better known as Milkman due to his delayed weaning, is a young man coming to terms with his dysfunctional family and limited opportunities in his small Ohio hometown. The richness of the book comes from the portrait of Milkman’s conflicted ambitions and his single-minded family and friends, particularly his enigmatic and sagacious aunt Pilate (yes, named after Pontius Pilate). It doesn’t have a standard plot. There are plenty of conversations, but things happen mostly through internal musings and revelations, much like in William Faulkner novels, so it could be tricky to capture it fully on film. But again, in the right hands (Ang Lee? Kasi Lemmons?), it could live up to the masterpiece of a book that inspires it.

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

I have to echo Stephen King’s description of this rapturous 2001 tale by calling it a gothic novel. I’ll leave it to you to look up what that means, but it captures the makeup of the story completely. I can’t begin to go into all that happens, but here’s a spare synopsis: Set in 1945 Barcelona, a young boy discovers a rare book and soon decides to find the author’s other works. His decision leads him into a great adventure replete with lost loves, political intrigue and unsolved mysteries. It’s an adult fairy tale I couldn’t put down, and it would make an epic movie. I’m thinking we would need no less than Steven Spielberg on the case, here.

I’m always impressed by directors and screenwriters who can stay true to a novel’s spirit as they bring it into a new life on film. I post about some of my favorites (and not so favorite) in the By the Book section of the blog. Here are a couple of links to articles and posts from other sources for book-to-movie enthusiasts.

http://mentalfloss.com/article/51251/5-books-probably-wont-be-adapted-movies

http://www.criterion.com/explore/194-novels-on-the-big-screen

'Her' is not a date movie if you enjoy your relationship

BY DAVID BRANDT

Joaquin Phoenix in "Her"

If you’re single, like me, then you’re probably going to be troubled by Her.

Spike Jonze’s film about one man’s love for his computer operating system is set in an undefined future, but it speaks with great depth – and some shame – to today’s techno-personal culture. Theo (Joaquin Phoenix) is a former news reporter who works for a letter-writing service in a Los Angeles in which almost everyone is seemingly capable of walking anywhere they want without the aid of mass transit.

Theo gets paid to put his own emotions into words for customers who need a sincere note sent to their loved ones. (It would be an easy joke to make that Theo’s occupation means Jonze is inferring that social media will eventually make most people horrible writers, but I’m now banking on that industry to arise eventually and make me a rich man.)

While he spends his days using speak-to-type technology to essentially lie for hire, he faces restless nights as he stalls on signing the divorce papers with his first and longtime love Catherine (Rooney Mara of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). Throughout the film, he looks back on the relationship’s highs and (but not nearly as much) lows as though he were trying to decipher just where things went wrong – a very relatable tendency.

But does he miss Catherine or does he miss having a personal connection with someone? And if it’s the latter, just what is a personal connection in the time he’s living in? This is the primary theme the film addresses as the story progresses, and Jonze isn’t coy about it.

One day as Theo walks to work, he’s allured by a street advertisement from an Apple-like tech company that suggests the sting of being alone can be resolved thanks to its new operating system – an A.I. so advanced that it requires little more than installation for it to become self-operating … or, frankly, a self.

“While it’s understandable to make comparisons with the iPhone’s Siri, Samantha quickly develops the one key difference between them that drives the development of the character throughout the film: curiosity.”

Enter Samantha (Scarlett Johansson), a name chosen by Theo’s new operating system in less than a second simply because it read a baby-naming book and “liked the name.” Right away the film wants to test you: Is Samantha really a “her,” or just an “it”? Can you have a regular human relationship with an “it”?

For Theo, Samantha starts out as a handy techno tool that meets the expectations set by the marketing, similar to how any of us today might react and enjoy to the newest iPhone or Android device. It organizes emails and messages, including judging which archived emails and messages should be destroyed, by deciphering their importance based on how it expects the user to feel about it.

And while it’s understandable to make comparisons with the iPhone’s Siri, Samantha quickly develops the one key difference between them that drives the development of the character throughout the film: curiosity … about Theo, about human connection, about love and, yes, about sex.

Theo gladly supplies Samantha with the information she seeks, and in return Samantha provides Theo with the comfort he wants to help fill the void left by the crash of his marriage. But here’s a harsh reality that isn’t addressed directly in the film (but is certainly clear to the audience): Samantha is the rebound relationship. And like many rebound relationships, one partner hasn’t entirely gotten over his or her last relationship. The rebound is quick fix that helps ease the pain of losing the previous love.

The film brings the relationship debate back down to earth through Theo’s neighbor and friend since college Amy (Amy Adams), a documentarian whose own marriage gradually crumbles. Amy’s relationship with her egomaniacal husband is a conflict of personalities – you don’t really care how they got together, but you immediately see the strain growing. Amy’s impending gloom is also eased by an operating system named Allie, which belongs to someone else entirely.

So operating systems can meet and greet with other users? What about other operating systems? This idea transitions Samantha from “it” to “her.” The more human she becomes, the more Theo finds appeal in the relationship they have formed together. But realities are faced and awkwardness ensues, and Theo is left in the same condition most of us find ourselves in after the demise of a rebound relationship: “What do I really want in life now?”

If you’re a fan of the TV show The Office, several scenes in the second half of the movie may inspire the same kind of unsettling realization that Michael Scott’s foolish logic occasionally leads to something you’ve done in real life. There’s just no getting over the admission of having made such a terrible error in judgment. But without such unfortunate inspiration, Her wouldn’t be nearly as good a film.

Surprises from Her:

• Look for subtle comic relief from Chris Pratt of TV’s Parks and Recreation, who plays an administrative assistant at Theo’s office and admires Theo’s work.
• Keep your ears open for distinct celebrity voices playing other OSes and OS users, including Kristen Wiig, Brian Cox and the director himself (as a mad video game character).
• Johansson’s voice is alluring and arguably the best fit for the role, but Adams continues to be Hollywood’s best scene stealer, and in what is probably the first supporting role she’s had for some time, the ease with which she captures a scene remains uncanny.
• The video game Theo plays early in the film may not be very far off from what exists today.

Her is a unique film that speaks to our desire for comfort in whatever form – human or machine. It may leave you questioning just what makes up a valuable relationship, so whether you’re single or in one for the long haul, I would probably avoid suggesting this as a date movie. But let this be your theater movie for the month.

'Poor Monkeyface'

Earlier this month we lost Joan Fontaine. She was 96 years old. I haven’t seen many of her films, but I’m familiar with the films she is best known for. Two of them happen to be the ones she made with Alfred Hitchcock, and they are two of my favorite Hitchcock films: “Rebecca” (1940) and “Suspicion” (1941).

In both films, Fontaine plays women who start out as presumed spinsters, but, to the shock of her employer/guardian in “Rebecca” and her parents in “Suspicion,” she marries a handsome “catch.” That’s where the two movies diverge, but only slightly.

Fontaine was nominated for a best actress Oscar for both performances, and she won for “Suspicion.” It was the only time an actor won an Oscar for a performance in a Hitchcock film.

It’s hard to write about Fontaine in these films without having seen most of her other work because she plays such similar characters in both. I don’t know about her range as an actress. All I know is that she is thoroughly believable as the woman who starts out meek but ends up empowered by love. And she remains a Hitchcock leading lady despite not being his usual “type” (i.e., icy blondes like Grace Kelly and Tippi Hedren).

“Rebecca” (1940)

The best reasons to watch “Rebecca” are the performances and the story. Fontaine, who received her first best actress Oscar nomination for the film, plays the new bride of Maxim de Winter (a stern Laurence Olivier). Maxim’s first wife, Rebecca, known far and wide for her beauty, intelligence and style, was killed in a boating accident. And no one believes Maxim will ever get over her, including his new wife and the de Winter housekeeper Mrs. Danvers (a chilling Judith Anderson).

Through her own low self-esteem and the taunting of Mrs. Danvers, Mrs. de Winter believes she can never live up to Rebecca in society, in her home and, most critically, in Maxim’s heart. But while Fontaine is good as the self-conscious new bride trying to live in the vast, unbearable shadow of her husband’s first wife, Anderson steals the show as the obsessed and belittling housekeeper Mrs. Danvers. Mrs. Danvers’ subtle undermining of the new Mrs. de Winter’s confidence leads up to overt ridicule and a climactic scene in which Mrs. Danvers tries to persuade the new bride to kill herself.

We subsequently get to the film’s big twist – one of the most satisfying twists in the suspense film genre. I won’t reveal it here, but it has much to do with how perception can play tricks on you – how things can appear one way but be exactly opposite. The twist leads to a suspenseful denouement, including a terrific courtroom sequence, and some entertaining scenes with the incomparable George Sanders as Rebecca’s nefarious “cousin” Flavell.  

Fontaine with Laurence Olivier and Hitchcock while filming "Rebecca"

“Rebecca” was Hitchcock’s first Hollywood movie, and it won the Oscar for the best picture of 1940. But Hitchcock wanted nothing to do with the finished product. Producer David O. Selznick interfered so much with how Hitchcock wanted to shoot the film and steer the story that Hitchcock considered it Selznick’s picture.

But the role of Mrs. de Winter was all Joan Fontaine’s. She conveyed the fragility and terror of being an unassuming young woman in an unfamiliar world of wealth and privilege as well as the determination and strength of a woman defending her man and her marriage.  

“Suspicion” (1941)

“Suspicion” is more a “classic Hitchcock” suspense tale because you are presented with a concrete mystery: Is Cary Grant trying to murder his wife or not? Fontaine and Grant star as Lina and Johnnie, newlyweds who didn’t know each other very well before they married. She’s a modest girl from an affluent family, and he’s a charming society ne’er-do-well who gambles away whatever money he finds. They have a swift courtship, including a funny scene atop a hill when he gives her the nickname Monkeyface.

One of my favorite scenes in the film is when it becomes clear to Johnnie that Lina is in love with him – after he has proposed to her in her father’s study – and he says, “Poor Monkeyface.” He knows that once you’re in love, you’ll endure nearly anything. Pretty soon, the young bride begins to wonder if her lovable new husband is capable of anything to get his hands on a fortune, including bumping her off for an inheritance or insurance money. The great thing about Lina is she’s not entirely naïve, and she recognizes rather quickly that Johnnie isn’t as savvy as he pretends to be. Yet there’s an underlying tension because neither is fully aware of the other’s limits.

The audience has a hard time deciding what to think because Grant does a great job of dancing between the dark, relentless Johnnie and the affable, harmless Johnnie. We want to believe in Johnnie’s innocence even in the face of one damning piece of evidence after another. That was the brilliance of putting Grant in the role – so thoroughly likable even when he has to be dastardly.

“Suspicion” also featured two great character performances from Nigel Bruce as Johnnie’s friend Beaky and Auriol Lee as an Agatha Christie-like mystery writer.

Fontaine earned her only best actress Oscar for her performance in “Suspicion.” She had some pretty stiff competition, including her sister Olivia de Havilland for her performance in “Hold Back the Dawn” and Bette Davis in “The Little Foxes.” Grant was nominated for best actor that year, but not for “Suspicion.” He was nominated for “Penny Serenade,” one of his rare purely dramatic turns.  

Hitchcock had more control over this film than he had with “Rebecca,” but he did decide to change the ending based on test audiences’ reaction to his original ending. Without having to indicate a spoiler alert, I’ll write that what he intended is essentially the opposite of what you see in the last scene.

I'm grateful for these two Hitchcock-Fontaine collaborations. Perhaps there were other actresses who could have done justice to the lead actress roles in the two films, but none of them could have brought more of the earnest and fragile quality Fontaine had to these characters who lived those qualities through her seemingly effortless work.

So many words of so little consequence

Lawyers need to have a way with words – even if they are not litigators. But lawyers don’t always have to be verbose. In fact, well-chosen words often serve them far better than verbiage. As the legal mind in director Ridley Scott’s “The Counselor,” Michael Fassbender exercises great diction thanks to screenwriter Cormac McCarthy. But his colleagues are the ones who can’t seem to stop talking and telling horrific cautionary tales of their dealings with Mexican drug lords.

The thing with the many cautionary tales laid out by these dabblers in high crime is that the tales do not deter anyone involved in their particular deal. Perhaps it’s because they have no plans to disrupt the deal. But they know well enough that someone else could have such plans. Their stories are proof that the consequences of molesting a multimillion-dollar drug shipment are grisly. Yet Fassbender and his partners, a comically reckless Javier Bardem and a comically restless Brad Pitt, are willing to take the chance that things could go off the rails just to have a little more money in the grand scheme of things – even though none of them appear to be missing life’s basic luxuries. They are of the breed for which enough is never enough.

It’s a fine and familiar premise. It’s just that there’s so much discussion about it – all obviously set up to allow the audience to recognize the horrors that transpire when the deal inevitably goes wrong. But the audience is never really connected to the characters, so instead of a grand impact, the conclusions seem hollow. Lamentable and disgusting, but hollow. The words were wasted on the audience just as the warnings were wasted on the characters.

[SPOILER ALERT] When Fassbender listens to the kingpin give what is supposed to be some kind of philosophical justification for his barbarity during a phone call, Fassbender stays on the line in the misguided hope that there’s a chance he’ll get his life back. But he might as well have hung up on the old windbag as soon as the meandering platitudes began to flow. We know from all the speeches that preceded it that no mercy will be shown. Fassbender, who heard all those speeches, knows too, but clearly hope springs eternal.

This aspect of “The Counselor” is a good contrast to the Coen Brothers’ masterpiece “No Country for Old Men,” based on another Cormac McCarthy story. The tensions in “No Country for Old Men” arise from seeing the assassin Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem in his Oscar-winning role) go about his cold, calculating business against a “hero” who truly reaches the audience (played winningly by Josh Brolin). Sure, Chigurh gives an explanation of his logic, but it’s brief and unwavering. We gain much more from the characterizations and the inherent suspense in the chase. So by the time the assassin pays a visit to the lovely, unfortunate widow (the solid Scottish actress Kelly Macdonald) at the end of the film, we are deeply moved by his inhumanity, his sheer unfairness to her, especially knowing that in his twisted mind he is the definition of fair. And the consequences don’t feel hollow at all. They feel meaningful.