ejmalek Reviews

Oppenheimer (I) (2023)

An Effectively Abstract and Introspective Look at the Man Who Invented the Atomic Bomb

[9/10 · 29 August 2023]

July 21st, 2023 will no doubt go down as one of the most important dates in cinema history. Not only were two of the most highly anticipated movies of the year released, but also they were critical and commercial successes. One was "Barbie," and the other was "Oppenheimer." The latter directed by Christopher Nolan is an effectively abstract and introspective look at the man who invented the atomic bomb.

"Oppenheimer" follows the career of theoretical physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer (played by Cillian Murphy). It focuses on his studies, direction of the Manhattan Project, and fall from grace due to the 1954 security hearing.

Because I run a book review website first and foremost, I have to point out that "Oppenheimer" is based on the 2005 biography "American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer" by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. I haven't read the book, but with the popularity of the film being as powerful as an atomic bomb right now, I will get my hands on it to see if it captures the spirit of the biography. This would be especially true if the movie gets nominated for and wins Best Adapted Screenplay at next year's Oscars.

I have seen plenty of Christopher Nolan films over the years, both in the movie theater and at home. In fact, "Oppenheimer" was the fourth flick I've seen of his in the former. Seeing it on the big screen really enhanced the Nolan touch on the cinematography and the sound.

For those who don't know, Nolan has red-green color blindness. As a result, he can't see those particular colors. This explains why his films tend to be blue and yellow heavy. In "Oppenheimer," those hues are prominent along with orange during the atomic bomb sequences as well as brown, tan, and white. On top of that, parts of the movie are shot in black and white to represent the stark reality of Oppenheimer's situation when Lewis Strauss (played by Robert Downey Jr.) is in the Senate hearings for his confirmation as Secretary of Commerce in the Eisenhower administration, and he is asked about the former's communist ties. The events that take place prior are in color to show how layered the famous physicist and the events leading up to the atomic bomb were. Nolan did this deliberately to demonstrate objective and subjective perspectives, and this is all done well. The switches between black-and-white and color also help to keep viewers interested in the three-hour movie.

Another Nolanism is the sound. Usually, that tends to be prominent in his flicks, especially to accentuate certain scenes. However, depending on the movie theater, that sound can be abrasive. I remember watching his last historical drama "Dunkirk" and getting very angry because the bomb sound effect was very loud and repetitive. Granted, they were necessary because it was about the famous British retreat during World War II, and ticking noise used indicated that something was going to happen. With "Oppenheimer," the sound is better mixed, yet prominent when it needs to be. For example, during important scenes, the string-based score composed by Ludwig Göransson swells up, but the dialogue is not drowned out. Also, sound effects are more varied. Some include noises for uranium detection and the sound of silence followed by several powerful explosions when the Trinity Test takes place.

Nolan's screenplay is just as abstract as the aspects previously discussed. The film has a non-linear structure with the framework being Strauss's Senate confirmation hearings. While the jumps can be weird at times, this is well executed. When the aforementioned hearing asks Strauss about a specific thing, the movie would then show the kangaroo court inquiring about something similar to Oppenheimer, and then displaying the events and how they unfold through the latter's eyes. The screenplay is also layered in how it portrays the titular character. While Oppenheimer is seen as a hero to many, his left-leaning views threatened to ruin his career during the height of the Red Scare in the 1950s. In addition, while he can be charming, he was a womanizer despite being married to his wife Kitty (played by Emily Blunt), and he tried to poison his physics teacher while at Cambridge.

Finally, there's a running theme about consequences. It demonstrates how various characters either don't fully realize them, or they don't want to think about them. This makes sense. After all, dropping the atomic bomb is part of one of the most famous philosophical questions ever. When the people involved in the Manhattan Project celebrate the atomic bombs dropping in Japan, Oppenheimer gives a speech about this achievement. During said speech, he envisions one woman experiencing the initial effects of the explosion with her skin getting peeled off. He clearly looks shaken up, but in the end, he decides to brush that off and fully embrace the celebration. This helps to explain why the film omits the Japanese perspective. Oppenheimer is not a bad person for not taking that into account. It's that if he starts to think about that, it becomes too much for him. He even talks about having blood on his hands during a tense scene with President Harry Truman (played by Gary Oldman). At the same time, that doesn't make it any better, and the movie is aware of that.

Lastly, I have to talk about the performances. Many act well in the flick, but viewers will ultimately remember two of them: Robert Downey Jr. And Cillian Murphy. Downey plays Lewis Strauss, who was the head of the U. S. Atomic Energy Commission that Oppenheimer was a part of. He plays the character with intelligence and spite. The latter comes out during the scenes between Strauss and Oppenheimer after it was revealed that the Soviet Union got their hands on the hydrogen bomb. Through Downey's performance, Strauss is also petty, especially once it's revealed how he was involved in the kangaroo court that questioned Oppenheimer when his security clearance got revoked. Downey is the perfect actor to play Strauss because he spent years playing Ironman - a superhero who can be just as selfish and vengeful as well.

And then, there's Murphy who plays the title character. He brings charm and thoughtfulness to Oppenheimer that makes viewers want to root for him, while acknowledging that he was no angel. The camera loves to do close-ups on Murphy's boney and pondering face. This is especially true with the final shot of the film. And it has every right to; the guy resembles the real-life Oppenheimer. Speaking of his face, Murphy has one that allows him to play characters of any age and still make them believable. In the flick, he plays Oppenheimer in his 20s to his 50s, and all of that was effectively accomplished with different hair styles and body languages. When the character is at Cambridge, he is agitated and impulsive through Murphy's performance. As he ages, his body language becomes more confident and relaxed yet with some anxiety. I wouldn't be shocked in the slightest if the actor gets nominated and wins for Best Actor at next year's Oscars.

In summary, "Oppenheimer" is a thoughtful and abstract movie about the theoretical physicist who invented the atomic bomb. The choices that Nolan, Downey, and Murphy make certainly enhance the story of J. Robert Oppenheimer. I would recommend this to those who love historical dramas, especially the ones that are based on nonfiction books, learning about World War II, and stories involving the atomic bombs. Along with "Barbie," this flick deserves all the praise and hype it got.

Blue Beetle (2023)

Typical, but Fun Superhero Movie

[8/10 · 25 August 2023]

Superhero shows are everywhere. They are inescapable. There are always shows based on Batman, Spiderman, Avengers, Justice League, etc.,. Then, last week, another one arrived in the form of the Blue Beetle - a superhero that I've never heard of until I started seeing the previews for this year's flick "Blue Beetle" directed by Angel Manuel Soto. Now that I've watched that film, I can say that I'm glad that I did because even though it doesn't reinvent the wheel, it certainly stands out from other superhero movies with its emphasis on heritage and family.

"Blue Beetle" is about Jaime (pronounced Hi-may) Reyes (played by Xolo Maridueña) and how he becomes the titular superhero. An alien scarab chooses the recent college graduate to be its symbiotic host, providing him with a suit of armor that's capable of extraordinary and unpredictable powers. This forever changes his destiny.

Like I said before, I never heard of Blue Beetle until this film came out this year. I did some research, and it turns out that Jaime is the third person to have done the suit since the character first appeared in the DC Universe in 1939. The other two are Dan Garrett and Ted Kord, whose suits actually appear in the flick while Jaime, Jenny (Ted's daughter and played by Bruna Marquezine), and Uncle Rudy (played by George Lopez) explore Ted's lab. This is a nice and clever way to acknowledge the Blue Beetles who came before the current one.

The flick itself is not particularly innovative, which is not necessarily a bad thing in this case. While watching it, I noticed that it took elements from other superheroes films from the last 5-10 years. There always has to be romance even if it's not all that necessary. In this film, it's between Jaime and Jenny. The latter's aunt (played by Susan Sarandon) runs Kord Industries and is the main antagonist, but Jenny wants nothing to do with the company, especially ever since her father's disappearance. I get her involvement since she is the reason why the scarab gets into Jaime's hands, but I don't know if the romance was all that necessary. They could've developed a friendship based on justice and family. The sibling relationship between Jamie and his younger sister Milagro (played by Belissa Escobedo) is very reminiscent of that between T'Challa and his sister Shuri in the first "Black Panther" movie, mainly how annoying, blunt, smart, and loving the women are. It was still entertaining to see the siblings interact, especially when they are on the rooftop.

There are also tropes that are present in the film that audiences have definitely seen before. For example, there's a scene between Jaime and his recently deceased father Alberto (played by Damián Alcázar), in which the latter convinces the former that it's not his time while the superhero is on the brink of death. I'm sure there are many people who have watched similar scenes in other flicks like "Black Panther." In another example, the grandma Nana (played by Adriana Barraza) is a sweet old lady, but with a colorful past. The latter comes out when the family comes to rescue Jaime from the villains. Again, people have seen this before, but I enjoyed how Adriana fully commits to the part, especially when she yells, "Down with the Imperialists!" in Spanish.

Despite not being reinventive, "Blue Beetle" still has many things going for it: the Latine heritage and family. This film marks the first time that a Latino superhero has been depicted on screen, which Soto doesn't take lightly. The Latine experience is depicted in multiple ways in the flick. This ranges from the poor, but colorful neighborhood, in which the Reyes reside in, to the acknowledgement of systematic racism that Jaime and Milagro endure even though he has a college degree. My favorite is the soundtrack, which features plenty of Latine-inspired songs including "Tú Serás Mi Baby" - Spanish version of "Be My Baby" - by Juvented Crasa, which plays during a party thrown by the evil corporation Kord Industries with Latine waiters.

The strongest element that the movie has going is the theme of family. Jamie's means everything to him even if they drive him up the wall. Also, they may or may not inadvertently had a hand in the scarab choosing him. Besides that, what makes this work is the chemistry among the cast. They are insanely believable as a family because of how comfortable they are around each other, and the best scenes involve them in some form. In addition, there's a villain named Carapax (played by Raoul Max Trujillo) who taunts Jaime by saying that family makes him weak. Later, Jaime discovers Carapax's backstory, which involves his own kin and how he was abducted into war. This gives him understanding as well as the courage to say to the antagonist that family is what makes him strong and not to kill him. In addition, one of the first shots of the movie is of the necklace containing a photo that Carapax wears. It's later revealed that the picture is of his own family.

Because this is a superhero film, I have to talk about the performances. Xolo Maridueña, who is best known for his television work in "Parenthood" and "Cobra Kai," is fine as the titular character. He has some charm and works best with the actors who play his family as well as in scenes where Jaime is struggling with his powers. If "Blue Beetle" gets a sequel, I would like to see him grow into the suit, uh I mean character. The standout performer of the movie is George Lopez, who plays the anarchist eccentric Uncle Rudy aka the Mexican Doc Brown. He infuses Rudy with elements from his standup comedy and surprisingly with a lot of heart. Also, I dig his long beard; it really suits the character.

All in all, while "Blue Beetle" may not be the most original superhero flick, it stands out in all the right places. Since it's the first movie with a Latino superhero, the film embraces its Latine heritage in every way. It's also at its most powerful when family is involved. It uses a lot of tropes from other movies, yet it executes them in a delightful way. I would recommend this movie to those who love superheroes, DC Comics, and flicks with a Latine lead and themes about family. I went into watching this film knowing nothing about Blue Beetle himself, but that didn't stop me from enjoying it.

The Pirate (1948)

Fun and campy movie!

[9/10 · 29 July 2023]

It's a fun and campy film with wonderfully over-the-top performances from Kelly and Garland, lots of vibrant colors, and great dance sequences. The supporting cast is great as well with Gladys Cooper as Aunt Inez, who is the overbearing, but loving relative, Walter Slezak as Don Perdo, who is Garland's fiance that she just met, and Lester Allen as Uncle Capacho - the uncle who sits around and smokes a cigar and has two lines in the entire film. Also, it will get "Be a Clown" stuck in one's head for a while. Other memorable songs are "Nina" - the number which features the cigarette trick that Kelly does on one of the woman and "Mac the Black."

Go see it if you haven't already.

A Farewell to Arms (1957)

A Not-So Interesting Remake of "A Farewell to Arms"

[4/10 · 6 June 2023]

I reviewed the 1932 movie adaptation of "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway in the past. Even though it wasn't exactly faithful to the source material, it was a fascinating translation that no one else could've done. But, what if I were to tell you that there was a more "accurate" version of the same story? It's the 1957 adaptation produced by David O'Selznick starring Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones. Although it's truer to the plot than the 1932 flick was, this version is simply not as interesting because of the performances, sudden tonal changes, and how it's trying way too hard at being "Gone With the Wind."

Before I get into my review, I want to address something. If it weren't for David O'Selznick, we wouldn't have the uncut 1932 adaptation of "A Farewell to Arms." During the time of the Production Code, films were reviewed to ensure that they weren't promoting anything that could be interpreted as immoral or taboo. When the film was re-released in 1938, 12 minutes of footage had to be cut to meet the code's standards. Luckily, O'Selznick managed to acquire an original negative of the film since he was keen on remaking it. In other words, he helped to preserve the very first movie adaptation of a Hemingway novel. That is the only bone I'm giving to O'Selznick.

As mentioned earlier, it's more faithful to the source material than the earlier film was. Even though it doesn't do the copy-and-paste maneuver that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" did, it barely does anything interesting with it. And when it did, it made me think of other movies. In the opening sequence, there are shots of the Italian countryside with Frederick biking his way to the town he's stationed at. In addition, there's narration done by Rock Hudson describing that area. This was only to show how accurate the flick was going to be as opposed to the original, but that voiceover doesn't show up ever again. "For Whom the Bell Tolls" does the same thing with the narration but at the end. Also, don't get me started with every time there was a shot of a bell chiming.

The movie obviously centers around the romance between Frederick the American Lieutenant and Catherine the English nurse, but in this adaptation, they don't have much chemistry. Hudson is fine as Frederick, yet he plays his role too soft-spoken. He is less so as the film progresses. My big problem with the acting is Jennifer Jones. Many people have said, including Hemingway himself, that she was miscast as Catherine. Some of that criticism has to do with her age, saying that she was too old to play the nurse. This doesn't bother me because the real-life person that Catherine was based on was actually 7 years older than Hemingway himself. My issue is that Jones is too hammy, immature, and focused on HER acting to make not only the character, but also the relationship believable. This became apparent in her first scene when Catherine meets Frederick. Jones spends a good chunk of that time putting towels away and speaking more to the camera than to Hudson when Catherine tells Frederick about her dead fiance. Then later on as Catherine is in labor and is given gas to ease the pain, Jones goes into hysterics that felt like an eternity and such a contrast to the quiet dignity that Helen Hayes possessed in a similar scene from the earlier version. I blame O'Selznick for this casting choice because he was married to her, and he liked to use her in many of his films like "Duel in the Sun" and "Portrait of Jennie." From what I understand, he was obsessed with her.

However, I have to compliment a few supporting performances. Mercedes McCambridge and Elaine Strich play two nurses at the hospital which Frederick recovers at. McCambridge (who is best known for her Oscar-winning performance in the 1949 adaptation of "All the King's Men") plays the head nurse Miss Van Campen who won't take any BS from Frederick. This is especially true when it's revealed that he has stashed plenty of alcohol under his bed. Strich (who is best remembered for playing Joanne in the original Broadway production of "Company") plays Helen Ferguson - a nurse who gives Frederick the booze in the first place. While this role is reduced in this version of A Farewell to Arms, Strich makes the character memorable in the most Elaine-Strich way possible: sassy while looking like she needs a martini. In fact, she even holds a cigarette in the way that only Strich could do it while Helen tries to knock some sense into Catherine about Frederick. I'll drink to that!

The strongest performer is Vittorio de Sica. He is best known as a director of several Italian neorealism films like "Bicycle Thieves," yet in here, he takes on the role of Rinaldi. He plays the charming aspect of the character well, but in the second half, he channels the madness that Rinaldi displays as the soldiers and civilians walk for miles and miles after getting evacuated from a bombing. This behavior leads him to be interrogated by Italian military officials (really Germans in disguise). De Sica gives Rinaldi what dignity is left as the character slowly loses his mind. His character is executed shortly after (something that isn't in the book). De Sica received an Oscar nomination for his performance. I'm not sure if he deserved it, but I'm glad he was recognized.

The next problem that I have with this adaptation is the sudden tonal changes. Even though it retains a realistic vibe throughout, there are times, in which the tone abruptly alters. After Frederick gets injured in a pretty gruesome bombing, he gets transported to the hospital by the most incompetent Italian staff members possible. One of them drives like a lunatic, and two of them shove him in an elevator and improperly put him into his bed. I understand that Frederick is not exactly a likable character, yet I wondered what he did to deserve this. And, director Charles Vidor (no relation to King Vidor) executes this sequence like a comedy, and it made me think these people were trained by the Three Stooges. Then, it shifts into a romance with Catherine and Frederick bonding as he recovers. Then, it changes into a war drama with the evacuation, and then back into a romantic comedy when a pregnant Catherine and Frederick make home in Switzerland. This inconsistent tone was off-putting.

Finally, this movie is desperate to be "Gone With the Wind." For nearly 20 years, O'Selznick wanted to recapture the magic without fully understanding what made that film special in the first place. This is apparent from the moment the slow-moving title card shows up in A Farewell to Arms. While both films deal with war and romance as well as contain misplaced humor (let's not forget the scene in "Gone With the Wind" in which a black servant tries to catch a chicken), those are the only things they have in common. One of those flicks is a multifaceted drama about a spoiled Southern woman trying to regain the life she had before the Civil War, and the other is a simple story about a Florence-Nightengale-Syndrome of a romance. Say what you want about Gone With the Wind, there are a lot of things that happen that would have altered the tale if any of that was omitted, thus justifying its run time of nearly four hours, and it maintains the same tone throughout.

With "A Farewell to Arms," it felt like it needed to pad out the runtime in order to be different from the black-and-white version as well as be taken seriously. It also doesn't help that it uses shock value for the sake of it. For example, when the soldiers and civilians are walking after they got evacuated (which is not in the book), there are shots of a soldier choking a civilian to death because that latter refused to give up his seat at the back of the ambulance truck for a woman and her baby. Later, there's one shot of a dead woman lying on the ground with an infant still latched onto her nipple. Do these add anything to the story? No, they don't. When Gone With the Wind contained disturbing elements, they were more impactful because they were through the eyes of someone who had been pampered all her life. In this version of A Farewell to Arms, it's from Frederick's - a man who had been at the front for a while - perspective. One could argue that he sees more of the horror of war and wants to give that up in order to be with Catherine more, but the film barely gives Hudson opportunities to show those reactions. This was O'Selznick's last attempt to cash in on Gone With the Wind because after the 1957 adaptation of A Farewell to Arms flopped at the box office, he ceased producing movies.

With all the criticism leveled at it, there were good things about it. The ending was well executed. It's the same one that shows up in the book, but Vidor adds a clip of Catherine telling Frederick to never forget her while a sad Frederick walks away from the hospital. Another good element was the war sequences. They felt realistic and even gritty at times. At one point, Frederick and Rinaldi are covered with sand during the evacuation scene. The best parts were the bombs going off. They looked like real explosions that could actually be dangerous. There were bombs that went off in the earlier version, but they felt more theatrical. I was very emotionally invested when Frederick got injured and his bloody legs were revealed. On top of that, he's with a soldier when the explosive went off, and that man died on impact covering Frederick.

In summary, the 1957 version of "A Farewell to Arms" is one that tries to be many things, but ends up falling flat on its face. It's not as dull as "For Whom the Bell Tolls," yet it's not as fascinating of a watch as the original is. I hesitate to recommend this flick, but I will say that if one wants to watch every adaptation of a Hemingway novel and every David O'Selznick-produced movie, I won't stop them.

A Farewell to Arms (1932)

The Best Adaptation of a Hemingway Novel

[7/10 · 22 May 2023]

When I've discussed adaptations in the past, the subjects tended to be on the more faithful side for good or for worse. This week's topic - the 1932 movie version of A Farewell to Arms - is a little different. It's based on the novel of the same name by Ernest Hemingway in the most basic way. It retains the core elements of the story, but it changes the tone. Even though the film doesn't fully capture the spirit of the book, it's still a fascinating watch.

This is where I would normally discuss the changes from the page to the screen, yet writers Benjamin Glazer and Oliver H. P. Garrett condense everything but the love story between soldier Frederick Henry (played by Gary Cooper, who is no stranger to this website) and nurse Catherine Barkley (played by Helen Hayes). Many of the supporting characters are drastically reduced to the point that I don't think their names are even mentioned. What secondary roles are left are more integrated into the story. The priest (played by Jack La Rue) unofficially weds Frederick and Catherine, and Rinaldi (played by Adolphe Menjou who charmingly says baby a lot) intercepts letters between the lovers when the nurse flees to Switzerland. Additionally, the cynicism about the war is only present when various soldiers discuss how much they want the conflict to end and when the montage of Frederick and the other men (injured and non-injured) walking in the rain on their way to the next battle occurs.

This is the only adaptation of a Hemingway novel that I've seen which understands the entire plot is simple. After all, that author's strengths lie mostly in writing short stories. There's plenty of filler in the book, so director Frank Borzage trims a lot of fat out to emphasize the Florence-Nightingale-Syndrome romance. And since that love story is already the focal point, this move makes a lot of sense.

Speaking of that romance, it was still ok. Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes have fine chemistry, which made me believe in their love for each other. However, I couldn't help but notice the absurd height difference between them. I know that there are couples like this in real life, so it may be a me thing. Also, it's a bit rape-y in the beginning. Granted this is present in the novel, but after Catherine slaps Frederick, they have sex off-screen with the former yelling "No, no, wait!"

In addition, their individual performances were okay. Gary Cooper is fine. He plays Frederick as one would if he was assigned to embody a stoic alpha male who is surprisingly able to hold his liquor aka a Hemingway Hero. His best work involves humor like his nonchalant reaction when the nurse discovers the alcohol under his hospital bed and describing the woman's arch in architectural terms while drunk at the beginning of the movie. He's also great with his surprise reactions, especially after Frederick discovers that Catherine is pregnant. Even though Gary Cooper has the reputation of being stiff and not always 100% there, I wonder if it was the little things that made people like Hemingway himself like his performance. As for Helen Hayes, she plays Catherine with kindness and love-stricken well. She also captures the character's maturity (something I forgot to mention in my book review of A Farewell to Arms) well. She tackles this with dignity and some confronting. This is especially when she handles the character's feelings about the rain. However, even though Catherine is from England, Hayes never attempts to do an English accent, but this is just a nitpick.

Another reason why I couldn't get that much invested in the romance was that I admired the filmmaking more. Borzage is considered to be an auteur kind of director known for his romantic melodramas with beautiful cinematography. A Farewell to Arms is a great example of his work. The overall story is one of love set in the backdrop of war, so naturally, he emphasizes the romance even though there are plenty of times where both aspects could've been integrated more instead of one being here and the other being over there (side note: I like the bombs going off during the opening credits).

As for the cinematography, it's gorgeous to look at. Cinematographer Charles Lang Jr. Imposes a haze on most of the movie along with charcoal grays and black shadows. It's a fantasy element that's not present in a novel by an author best known for his objective realism, yet it still works for the film because it's saying that love blurs reality. Moreover, I have to talk about the two crowning jewels which allowed the movie to win the Oscar for Best Cinematography at the 1932-1933 Oscars. One involves the closing shot, in which Frederick lifts Catherine from her hospital bed after she dies. He holds her by the window like a groom carrying his bride into the threshold. Although the ending is not what Hemingway wrote in the book, I love the composition and how it's juxtaposed with the celebration of the war ending. Frederick can't honor this event because he just lost the love of his life. My only complaint is that the "Peace, peace" line is too on the nose for the comparison. Moreover, there's the long, single POV shot when Frederick is taken to the hospital in Milan after he gets injured. Viewers never see his face while various characters like Catherine and other nurses tend to him (side note: I love how it gets away with a makeout session between Frederick and Catherine). It definitely shows a patient has to deal with while being bedridden. From what I understand, it was one of the first films to have this kind of shot. These days, it's mostly taken for granted as people constantly see this technique employed, especially in video games. But back at that time, it was something new that audiences hadn't seen before. The gorgeous and unique cinematography is likely the reason why the movie received the Academy Award in that category.

With all the wonderful things to say about the movie and its filmcraft techniques, there were some decisions that demonstrated more of Borzage's skills as a filmmaker as opposed to enhancing the story. For example, when the injured Frederick is taken to the hospital in Milan, there's a shot of a train moving along on the tracks. Above it, the word Milano magically appears above it and fades away. I get that it wanted to indicate where the train was going, but having a physical sign saying Milano would've done the same trick, but more effectively. Later, as Frederick and Catherine spend more time together at the hospital while the former is recovering, the movie decides that it's a good idea to have a weird puppet transition. It starts off with the months being shown on screen with each letter on a string. It concludes with two Italian marionettes singing a hand organ version of "Largo al factotum" (the Figaro song) from The Barber of Seville as Frederick, Catherine, and their friends watch. I get that this was to indicate the passage of time, and it does its job well. However, it took me out of the movie because of how strange it was. And yet, I admire it since it's probably the only time that filmgoers like me will ever see a transition like that.

To summarize, the 1932 movie version of A Farewell to Arms is an interesting one to watch. It doesn't capture the spirit of the novel, yet it's translated well to the screen. Critics, filmmakers, and movie buffs can all admire the craft put into the film. Of course, this admiration for the filmmaking itself can distract from the story. Along with the people mentioned above, I would also recommend this movie to those looking for a war romance, and they already watched Casablanca and The English Patient. In addition, watch it on Blu-ray because that one contains the complete version. Of all the adaptations of Hemingway books that I've seen, this is the best one so far because it understands the source material in a specific way.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (2002 TV Movie)

A Realistic Adaptation of a Beloved Story

[8/10 · 4 April 2023]

Today, I'll be analyzing the 2002 television movie of "Goodbye, Mr. Chip made by Masterpiece Theatre starring Martin Clunes (of "Shakespeare in Love" and "Doc Martin" fame) as the titular character.

The 2002 Masterpiece Theatre adaptation takes cues from the three previous versions, while making choices that enhance the James Hilton novella. From the 1939 version, this adaptation embodies the relationship that Mr. Chips has with his students and his willingness to help others before meeting Katherine. It starts off with a relatively young Chips arriving at Brookfield. During the opening credits, as he walks around campus, various boys spot him and mimic his walk. In addition, from a window, a teacher points out Chips's ears. This establishes how different he is from the other faculty and how kids are always looking for new meat to mess with. The chaos of Mr. Chips's first day is also similar to that of the 1939 version as the boys messing with him do so out of amusement. Heck, it even has the similar dialogue to the older adaptation when Headmaster Wetherby comes by and orders punishments for the students. One kid plays possum after he writes that word on the chalkboard. Later, when Colley slams his book twice, Chips calls him out by comparing him to a dog, thus putting the kid in his place.

In addition, before meeting Katherine, he is shown helping various students. In the 1939 version, there's only one scene where Chips tries to comfort a child with little success before he encounters his love interest. Here, there are more scenes of him aiding various boys. In one scene, he witnesses a group of boys initiate a new kid by putting him in a barrel full of water and later hanging him like Jesus at the cross. Chips gets him down and confronts the cruel housemaster Metcalf (in previous versions, he is a headmaster). Soon after, a nerdy student named Hawthorne confides in Mr. Chips about wanting to get into Cambridge despite his background. The teacher assists him with his studying in an English-like manner, and the student eventually gets in. It's devastating to find out later that Hawthorne is among the killed during the war. This adaptation definitely captures the playfulness and seriousness of the relationship between Chips and the students at Brookfield that's also present in the 1939 adaptation.

Like the 1969 version, the Masterpiece Theatre one has a similar structure and gives Max Staefel more of a character and more of a purpose in the story. Both are the only ones that don't use flashbacking as a main framework. Instead, they show Mr. Chips's story in a linear fashion. I bet this was done because the flashback as a framing device was so well done in the 1984 miniseries that the people involved like director Stuart Orme couldn't come up with a way to better it. Additionally, Max has more of an inner life. In the 1969 version, Max is the only friend that Chips has at Brookfield, and he puts the latter in his place when needed. Later on, when war is looming, Max is called back to Germany. He expresses to Chips, "Do you think I want to go back?"

I know that it's not much character development, but it's more than Max is given in other adaptations besides the 2002 one. In the Masterpiece Theatre version, Max (played by Conleth Hill who is best known for playing Lord Varys in "Game of Thrones") is present from the very beginning. He meets Chips on his first day, and when the latter has his disastrous first day of teaching, Max persuades Wetherby to give Chips another chance. As a result, Chips feels grateful for Max's intervention, and this begins a friendship that lasts for decades. When the Great War is looming and anti-German prejudice is high, the bigoted Headmaster Ralston persuades Max to retire. Even though Chips is upset by this, Max is more resigned because of the anti-German sentiment in the air. This leads to the confrontation between Chips and Ralston, in which the latter tries to persuade the former to retire. In addition, expanding Max in this way gives Chips, when as Headmaster, more of a reason to read his name when he is killed on the Western Front.

Finally, what the 2002 version takes from the 1984 series is how Katherine is depicted. Both adaptations portray Katherine's youthfulness. While Jill Meager from the 1984 version shows this through her spry performance, Victoria Hamilton (who is best known for playing one of the title characters in the "Victoria & Albert" television miniseries and the Queen Mum in seasons 1 and 2 of "The Crown") plays up the character's naivety with her wide-eyed stares. This is most apparent when Katherine and Chips meet for the first time. Katherine sits on a tree branch overlooking a river to watch the fish, not aware of the peril that she put herself in. When that branch breaks, Chips is able to rescue her. This is the only version in which he successfully saves her. Moreover, both adaptations play up her socialist views and her need to make a difference in the world. When they meet, Katherine and Mr. Chips discuss women being doctors and George Bernard Shaw. Soon after, she gives Chips a book about socialism written by that man. Later on, when they marry and Katherine moves in, she strives to improve the students' wellbeing. This involves talking to Wetherby about the bullying on campus, resolving differences between a pair of students, and organizing a social for the boys with a set of girls from a different school. Although Katherine doesn't live for long, I'm glad this adaptation makes her active in the story, both in helping Chips become more empathic and in her own right.

The 2002 television movie also makes choices that enhance the James Hilton story. This version takes on a more realistic tone than the previous adaptations. This is apparent in how Brookfield the school is depicted. It explores the systematic bullying that occurs at said school. There are several incidents, in which students get harassed by their peers and their teachers. Chips (and later Katherine) get involved and try to help through compassion and understanding. At one point, Mr. Chips has to discipline a boy for being on the roof. After he canes the student on the palm of the latter's hand, he throws the cane across the room, thus vowing never to punish a child in that way again. Even the sound effect the film uses for the cane sounds extremely harsh. Later on, Mr. Chips has a realization that disciplining the students in such a strict and cruel way doesn't make them act any better. This is also true during the war scenes. Students are learning how to use bayonets on the school grounds. Even an older Colley (played by a young Henry Cavill) comes home with a leg missing. The realistic portrayal of Brookfield shows what work Chips has cut up for him and makes the results of his interventions all the more impactful.

The realistic tone is also obvious in how Martin Clunes portrays the titular character. When Chips is young, Clunes plays with a sense of naivety, but not completely innocent. As Chips gets older, Clunes lowers his voice without putting on an old-man one. The makeup reflects this realism by aging Clunes naturally, and it's the best use of it in all of the adaptations. It also helps that Clunes's physical appearance allows him to play characters of various ages. In addition, the actor takes on the stoicism of the character, while also being emotional at various points of the story. In fact, Clunes shouts in a variety of scenes. This can be a bit much, yet it's most effective when Chips confronts Ralston about forcing Max to retire. When this scene is depicted in the previous adaptations, Chips usually raises his voice, but never yells. Clunes takes that to another level by having Chips outright shouting at Ralston after the latter confronts him about his teaching ways and tries to get him to retire. This makes the students all the more adamant to fight for his honor, whereas in previous adaptations, they are shocked and not much else. Overall, Clunes's performance shows that even Mr. Chips struggles himself to remain constant while the world is changing around him.

In spite of all of the praise I've lavished on the 2002 version, I have one caveat. Many of the scenes in the television movie play and end a bit too quickly. I can understand why this was done to make time for the Exxon Mobil ads, but it's from PBS. They don't cut to commercials during their shows. This swiftness makes this version the shortest of all the adaptations, clocking in at 1 hour and 44 minutes. If the movie slowed down just a little, then I think it would be neck and neck with the 1939 film in terms of effectiveness.

All in all, the 2002 version of "Goodbye Mr. Chips" is the most effective of the adaptations outside of the 1939 adaptation. It takes elements from the previous films in order to expand certain characters and the varying relationship between Chips and his pupils. In addition, its realistic tone helps to explore the circumstances Mr. Chips is in as a teacher. Martin Clunes takes on the titular character in a way that's familiar and different at the same time. It's not perfect mind you, but it's worth the watch. I would recommend it for those like Martin Clunes and want to see every version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" (like myself).

Daisy Jones & The Six (2023)

An Adaptation That Makes the Story Whole

[9/10 · 28 March 2023]

Throughout this month, Amazon Prime has been promoting the miniseries adaptation of Taylor Jenkins Reid's beloved novel "Daisy Jones & the Six." Advertisements for the show and its music have shown up on social media. Depending how one feels about the novel and, more importantly, Amazon, this can be a wonderful or a highly annoying thing. I watched all 10 episodes over a four-week period, and viewer, it was worth it because it made the story whole.

Developed by Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber, the show is a faithful adaptation of the book, but just like any other adaptations, there are some differences between. Vanity Fair already has an article listing them in great detail, so what I'm going to do is cover the important alterations from page to screen and how that affects the adaptation. The biggest change from the book to the show is the framework. In the former, it's an oral history of the Fleetwood Mac-like 70s band from cradle to the grave. While this was a good framing device, I couldn't help but feel that something was missing given that Reid had lyrics for each of the songs from the "Aurora" album listed in the book club kit. In the series, the framework is a documentary of the group with "archival" footage. This improves the story because not only does it show what the band was like and how they interacted with each other, but it also allows listeners to hear what their music was like. I especially love how the interviewees react to what another person says about them. It felt authentic.

Another drastic alteration between the page and the screen version is the lyrics. With the exception of the song "Please," the ones that show up in the book club kit are different from the ones that are heard in the series. The most famous line from the book version of "Regret Me" that goes "And, baby, when you think of me/I hope it ruins rock 'n' roll" was omitted from the miniseries.

I'm not sure why this happened, yet I wouldn't be shocked if the reason was to make them suited to the music musicians Blake Mills, Tony Berg, Chris Weisman, Jackson Browne, Marcus Mumford of the band Mumford & Sons, and book nerd Phoebe Bridgers were composing. The book lyrics can be a bit wordy, but then again, there are songs that are just like that from artists like I don't know Fleetwood Mac. The ones from the show feel more secondary compared to the music despite their importance, given how much the series emphasizes the tension between Billy and Daisy through their songwriting.

Another set of major changes for the Amazon Prime adaptation involve the omission and expansion of some characters. On one side, the bassist Pete was cut, and Eddie filled that role after Chuck decided to go to school to become a dentist (as opposed to going to Vietnam to fight and dying there in the book). The reason was that Pete didn't contribute too much to the plot. Although it felt weird to have five members while still calling themselves The Six (they made Billy's wife Camila the unofficial sixth member), I honestly don't remember a whole lot about Pete. It was for the best, for it gives Eddie another reason to feel like a second-class citizen within the band.

On the other hand, Symone - Daisy's friend who becomes a disco pioneer - is greatly expanded in the series. According to the Vanity Fair article, Reid, who also was a producer for the show, mentioned that she wanted Symone to be more developed. In the novel, she functions as Daisy's friend, not much more. In the series, Symone (played by Nabiyah Be) is given her own subplot as she tries to find her own voice as a gay black woman. She goes to New York City after she meets Bernie - a black female deejay - in Los Angeles and experiences the ups and downs of trying to be successful while staying true to one's self. This gets covered in about two episodes. It was really good to explore a story involving the true pioneers of disco - LGBTQIA+ members of color. In addition, it fits the overall story because it explores a running theme present both in the book and the show - female agency and validating one's self.

Outside of the chemistry between Daisy Jones and Billy Dunne, the main draw of the show is the 70s-bluesy-style rock music. I've listened to the "Aurora" album - the "Daisy Jones & the Six"'s version of Fleetwood Mac's iconic "Rumors" LP - a few times, and it's good. Some of it feels like the 2010s' perception of what 1970s music sounds like, especially with The Black Keys-like distorted guitars. I wouldn't be shocked if that was the case because Blake Mills, Marcus Mumford, and Phoebe Bridgers are musicians who experienced success in the 2010s. In addition, Riley Keough (who plays Daisy) is a bit drowned out in the mixing. Considering that Daisy is the main reason for The Six's success, one might try to emphasize that in the real album of the fake band. The best tracks evoked a more authentic interpretation of 1970s rock 'n' roll and have proper mixing when it comes to Daisy's voice. This most likely has to do with the fact that two of the musicians involved Tony Berg (who was a session guitarist on many albums like "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" LP) and Jackson Browne were alive and working in the 1970s. My favorite tracks are "Let Me Down Easy," "The River," "Regret Me," and "Look at Us Now (Honeycomb)."

As for the performances, I liked all of the actors cast in the show. They embodied the best and worst parts of their characters. Sam Clafin (best known for his performances in "Me Before You" and as Fiddnick Odair in the "The Hunger Games" film series) plays Billy Dunne - the lead singer and songwriter for The Six. I enjoyed seeing his struggle between his personal and professional life. At the same time, he can be very stubborn, in which Clafin conveys well. At first, I wasn't a fan of his singing voice; it felt a little too nasally. But overtime, I realized that this fits the music Billy is creating for The Six and that Jackson Browne - one of the musicians involved in the real "Aurora" album - has a similar tone. I also was delighted whenever Riley Keough (who's known for her performances in "Mad Max: Fury Road," "American Honey," and "Logan Lucky") came on the screen as Daisy. The character can be tough to play because one has to embody her faults, why she became the way she did, and what makes her special as a musician. And, Keough does that well enough, yet I'll always hear Jennifer Beals from the audiobook as Daisy's real voice. I also can't avoid talking about Keough's singing since she is Elvis's granddaughter. She sounds like a raspy Taylor Swift, especially on "Regret Me, and it works well with the music produced.

The strongest performance belongs to Josh Whitehouse who takes on the role as Eddie Roundtree the bassist. Whitehouse - most notably for playing Hugh Armitage in the third and fourth seasons of "Poldark" - clearly conveys his character as disgruntled with what's been given to him despite trying to be a team player. The confrontation that Eddie has with Billy about quitting the band is rightfully memorable, but the quieter moments are what make Whitehouse's performance special. This is especially true when Eddie in the interview segment of the first episode reveals that he had feelings for Camila without saying a word (this was also not in the book).

Another effective aspect of the performances is that all of the actors have great chemistry with one another. Since the story is about what leads up to the breakup of an uber-successful band, it's important for the actors to communicate not only the tension, but also the love and why they stayed together for so long. And, all of the actors do that. They always feel comfortable around one another, especially in the scene in the diner, where The Six decide on their name. And yes, the chemistry between Keough and Clafin was undeniably good. They played off each other well, whether they are at each other's throats, or are working amicably. I especially love the glances the actors give to each other during the recording session and concert scenes.

Despite my praise, I have a couple of complaints. One is obviously the wigs, particularly the ones used during the interview segments. They kind of look ridiculous, especially Timothy Oliphant's (who plays Rod the tour manager) and they don't make the actors look any older than their 70s counterparts. Luckily, those are compensated because they convey the world-weariness that comes with years of touring and reflecting on what happened through their body language and the tone of their voice.

The other complaint that I have is that I wish that the show explored more of Graham and Karen's relationship (played by Will Harrison and Suki Waterhouse). Yes, I know the show devotes two episodes to them coming to terms about their feelings for one another and another two episodes to their breakup brought on by Karen's pregnancy scare. Yet, those segments needed some transition like a scene involving them talking about what they want to live their lives and how they see themselves as a couple because it felt like everything was going very well until Karen got pregnant. Considering how the show highlights Billy and Daisy's relationship, the one between Symone and Bernie (one that's not present in the book), and Eddie's resentment of his place in the band in ten episodes, I feel that it could've fleshed out Graham and Karen's relationship more.

All in all, the Amazon Prime series "Daisy Jones & the Six" is an adaptation that makes the novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid feel whole. Although it's not perfect, I still enjoyed the music and performances. Moreover, it made changes to bring to life a story that definitely needed to be seen and heard as well as read. Like with the book, I would recommend it to those who love 1960s and 1970s music and female protagonists who take charge of their destinies. It was worth seeing Daisy Jones & the Six's assets on full display in the miniseries.

Goodbye Mr. Chips (1984)

An Even More Faithful Adaptation of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips"

[7/10 · 7 March 2023]

I'm looking at various adaptations of "Goodbye Mr. Chips" and seeing how they hold up to the so-called definitive 1939 version. Today, I'll be analyzing the 1984 television miniseries made by the BBC starring Roy Marsden (best known for playing Adam Dalgliesh in the Anglia Television adaptations of the P. D. James's detective novels) as the titular character.

The 1984 version has 6 episodes overall, and each of them run for 25-30 minutes. It's clear that series director Gareth Davies wanted the adaptation to be more faithful than the 1939 one because it includes more scenes as presented from the novella, while adding some original scenes to enhance the story. One subplot that's omitted from both the 1939 and 1969 adaptations is the one in which Catherine convinces Mr. Chips and the headmaster to invite boys from the slums to play a game of soccer (oh sorry, football) against the Brookfield students. I have a feeling that this was added to show the impact that Catherine had on the school. The other noted scene is how Chips meets his love for the first time. I talk about how this went down in my review of the black-and-white version, so long story short: Chips is walking in the mountains in England, and he sees a woman waving and shouting, so he climbs up, intending to rescue her and proceeds to sprain his ankle. This is presented as such in the 1984 version. It took three adaptations of the story to display that crucial moment in its original form.

As mentioned earlier, there are scenes not present in the book that are in the show. In the sixth and final episode, when the Great War is going on, a student reveals that he doesn't want to fight even though he has already enlisted. He claims that seeing his father's wounded body and talking to a battered soldier at the hospital convinced him that the war was not worth fighting for. Mr. Chips tries to persuade the boy that it's his duty to fight. The student refuses, so he gets arrested for being a deserter. I wouldn't be surprised that this scene was added since the show couldn't do the bombing sequence from novella due to its low budget. This sequence brings an anti-war message to the story, but I'm not sure if it's necessary. During the Great War section of the novella, Hilton makes it clear that it's best to carry on regardless of the present situation. Instead of displaying that kind of duty, it shows that one is better off listening to Chips.

Another scene not in the book is in episode 3, where Catherine and Mrs. Wickett take care of an ill student. During a bit of the previous one, there was some tension between the women as they try to get used to the new arrangement after Chips marries Catherine. Catherine tries to make her mark with the house that she and Mr. Chips live in and to improve the boys' welfare, but Mrs. Wickett has her own ways of doing things. Once they find out about a sick boy living in the dorm that Chips is the housemaster of, they band together to help him get well.

Having this scene in the series makes sense, for both Mrs. Wickett and Catherine are expanded from the book and previous movies. In the previous adaptations and the novella, all Mrs. Wickett does is serve Mr. Chips tea and remind him of what the doctor said. In the BBC television miniseries, she is the first person that Chips gives advice to after she - a maid at the time - tells him of her plans to run away. Because this happens on his humiliatingly first day of teaching, Chips and Mrs. Wickett form a bond that lasts until the former's death. There are even times in which Ann Kristen - the actress playing Mrs. Wickett - gives off looks that signify that Wickett may have certain feelings for Chips, but there's no real payoff to that. I'm not sure if it was all that crucial to enlarge her role, but it enforces her symbolism of the lasting impact Chips has on Brookfield.

With Catherine, her role is more active in this version. Jill Meager's interpretation of the character is closer to her counterpart in the novella. Catherine is youthful and wants to make a difference at Brookfield. I wouldn't be surprised if Meager went to the Charlton Heston School of Teeth Acting, for she shows off her teeth a lot. Regardless, that gesture simply adds more charm and spry to Catherine's character. In addition, the miniseries plays more into Catherine's beliefs. There are several scenes in episodes 2 and 3, in which she and Chips discuss world events and trends that showcase how different they think. Moreover, this version even addresses the question I often had with the novella and the 1939 and 1969 adaptations: what does Catherine see in Chips? In episode 2, her friend asks Catherine about this, and Catherine replies that he's great to talk to and at listening even if he drives her mad with his old-fashioned ways.

Since we're talking about performances now, I can't avoid discussing Roy Marsden as the title character. His interpretation is more somber than the previous actors, but his Chips has the sternness of the Peter O'Toole one and some of the warmth of Robert Donat's. In other words, Marsden's portrayal is the closest to the one in the novella. Much like O'Toole, his emotional growth is more gradual. This makes sense as the miniseries gives Chips more time to reflect on the actions and relationships he made and they impacted him. Additionally, I have to mention the physical transformation. When Mr. Chips is younger, Marsden is seen with a brown mustache that's similar to Donat's in the black and white version but less ridiculous. He also looks like the Count of Monroth from Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge just with more forehead. Luckily, it wasn't distracting because he appropriately resembled a 40-year-old English schoolmaster. I can't say the exact same thing when Chips gets older. Although various camera angles hide the fact that Marsden is wearing a bald cap with pieces of hair on his sides well, there are times where viewers can spot the bald cap. Additionally, the makeup was caked onto him, especially around the eyes to make him look older. I haven't seen that much makeup to transform an actor into an old person since Orson Welles in "Citizen Kane."

The makeup is part of the bigger problem with this version, which is the budget. Before I explain, I want to make one thing clear: a movie or a television series can have a low budget, but still be creative in telling the story. When watching this, it's clear that they had to cut corners in translating it to the screen. This explains why miniseries couldn't do the bombing scene in the novella and do the makeup effectively as mentioned earlier. Additionally, they couldn't afford many child actors since only up to 30 appear in one scene at a time. Since the core relationship is between Mr. Chips and the students, scenes like the retirement speech are less impactful, for Chips is seen giving this to the teaching staff, not the boys. It's most apparent when there were outdoor sequences when lots of students are present that I swear were taken from the 1969 version. The miniseries was a collaboration between the BBC and MGM, and that latter company produced both the 1939 and 1969 adaptations, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

If the budgeting is the weakest aspect of the BBC miniseries, then the framework of the show is the strongest. Each episode begins and ends (sans the last one) with an old Mr. Chips writing his book and looking back on his actions and relationships. This is a great idea because he had talked about doing this in the novella and the previous adaptations, yet he never did. This also successfully justifies why he's in such a reflective mood and going through each part of his life in a linear form. As much as I really like the 1939 version, it explains why Chips recalls his early teaching days (due to the new teacher at Brookfield), but not the rest. The framework of Mr. Chips writing his memoir helps explain why he's willing to analyze each episode of his life.

To summarize, the "Goodbye Mr. Chips" 1984 miniseries works in some ways, but not in others. The miniseries format allows it to be more faithful to the source material. Certain expansions aren't always necessary, but they don't hurt the story. Obviously, the people involved had to cut corners, and it shows because it makes specific elements less effective. Despite all this, the framework is the best part of the miniseries. Like with the 1969 adaptation, I can see why viewers might like it, especially with Roy Marsden's performance and if this one is the first version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" they've ever seen. I would recommend it for those like Roys Marsden and want to see every version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" (like myself).

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1969)

What Happens When One Makes "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" Into a Musical

[4/10 · 7 February 2023]

When watching this version, one will notice three major changes to the story. The first is the timeline. In the novella and the 1939 film version, the story takes place between 1870 and 1933. In this adaptation, screenwriter Terence Rattigan shifts to between 1924 and the 1960s. I wouldn't be shocked if this was made to update the story since it was released in 1969. In addition, the flick starts with Mr. Chips fully established at Brookfield as opposed to him starting out in the black-and-white version. I suppose this was done to get straight to the point that Mr. Chips is not well liked by his students. I'm not bothered by these alterations because they don't fundamentally change the plot.

Now, there's the other and more obvious alteration: it's a musical. Many reviewers and I have been confused by this since the story doesn't really lend itself well to being sung. The podcast Musicals With Cheese and the YouTube channel Musical Hell have gone into more detailed explanation of why certain tales work better as musicals, so I'll make this brief. Musicals deal with big emotions, feelings so huge that characters have no choice but to sing and dance. With "Goodbye Mr. Chips," there's not a whole lot of big emotions. The students feel these, but with the titular character, all he does is be moody and reflective. That's not much to build a successful musical. As a result, the overall movie feels misguided, yet it's not bad.

This film was made during the time of the big movie musicals, where they were promoted heavily in roadshows and nominated for Oscars. In other words, they were a huge deal back then. A lot of these movies from that time period tended to be long due to the songs as well as the overture, intermission, and entr'acte music. I can see why the decision to transform "Goodbye Mr. Chips" into a musical was made, but again, it doesn't really work. For a simple story about an old former English schoolmaster looking back on his life, its run time is about two and a half hours. Talk about being bloated.

Along with the songs, it alters certain elements like the romance between Mr. Chips and Catherine. In the novella, the relationship between those characters is a quick one, but Chips remembers it fondly because of his great love and appreciation for his dead wife since she helped him turn his life around and be more open and wanting to get to know the boys at Brookfield. At first, I wasn't crazy about this decision, because while the romance is certainly an important part of the story, it's not the core of it. That is the relationship between Chips and the students. However, the more I thought about it and after discussing the 1939 adaptation with Zita Short, it made me realize that expanding the relationship between Mr. Chips and Catherine made the latter more important to the overall story. In the black-and-white version, when she dies, she is almost erased from the plot entirely. So, I appreciate this film's attempt at making her more involved in the tale.

While the conflict between Chips and the boys is still essential, it certainly feels more contained than it does in the 1939 version. For instance, the scenes of the bombs going off while a lesson is going on and the April Fools' Day prank the boys pull on Chips are combined into one. It felt like the movie spent so much time on the romance that the people involved were probably like, "Bloody hell! We have to include these scenes to ensure that it's still 'Goodbye, Mr. Chips'!"

In addition, since this is a musical, I have to talk about the music. The songs were written by Leslie Bricusse, and the score was composed by John Williams (yes, that one). Both were nominated for Best Score of a Musical Picture at the 1969 Academy Awards, yet I don't think they deserve it. They're mostly forgettable. The songs usually had dull melodies with lyrics that tell more than show. The telling part is a problem that I discovered while reading the novella, yet the tunes make that aspect worse. The lyrics are vague as a result. For example, take a look at the lyrics for "You and I," and you'll see what I mean.

With all of that being said, it's not all bad. The best songs are "London is London" (Catherine's song while she's performing in a music hall revue , Catherine being a music hall performer is another change that the movie makes to the source material]), "When I Am Older" (sung by the students as they go back to Brookfield), and "Schooldays" (the ditty that Catherine performs with some of the students at an assembly). All of them are fun and have a lot of visual elements going for them. "London is London" and "Schooldays" are the only two numbers, in which dancing is involved. This is strange given how first-time director Herbert Ross was a choreographer. Anywho, I especially like the latter song because it feels like the kind of ditty sung at an English school assembly, and having the one kid not know the dance completely is a nice touch. "What a Lot of Flowers" has plenty of pretty visuals, yet they tend to be so on the nose that even Tom Hopper would complain about how literal it is. "London is London" and "Schooldays" contain the most effective imagery in the movie and are the least involved with the plot, so who cares about the vague lyrics.

As mentioned earlier, this was the directorial debut of Herbert Ross, and it shows. There's plenty of wide shots of various locations like London, Brookfield, and Pompeii. The opening and closing shots of the boys getting checked in are effective. They look nice, but they feel mostly pointless. At one point while Chips and Catherine are in Pompeii, there are so many lens flares that I thought I could go blind. The editing is fine. It cuts like it's supposed to. However, it sometimes goes into montages with pointless images. For example, during the "Where Did My Childhood Go?" number, the film cuts appropriately to the students celebrating the last day of school, yet soon after, it transitions to adults walking and boys singing in a choir for some reason. Later on in the flick, when Chips or Catherine remember their whirlwind of a romance, it shows their time in Pompeii. This makes sense, but the first time the movie does that, it happens 20 minutes after their initial courtship. The second time occurs is more appropriate as it's shown during the second act. Moreover, when it came to filming the musical numbers that don't involve dancing, Ross mostly has the actors silent while a soundtrack of the song plays. I get that this is supposed to display their inner monologues. It would've worked more if this only occurred maybe once or twice. Doing this multiple times feels like a cop out and that the movie is embarrassed to be a musical in the first place.

However, there are likable elements in the movie. First, there's Petula Clark. She's the same person who sang the famous 1965 hit "Downtown." Clark has a lovely voice even if the songs she performs are weak and has a quirk presence in the flick. She is the best singer in the film.

Finally, the strongest and weakest part of this flick is Peter O'Toole. He plays the titular character more stuffy and aloof than Donat did in the 1939 version. The film establishes this interpretation effectively by starting off with Mr. Chips checking the students in and then preventing them from attending a tennis match due to their low scores. This makes the emotional transformation more subtle. As for the physical appearance, O'Toole has a realistic middle-age-man-and-later-older-man look with his neat brown (later gray and white) hair and less ridiculous mustache. It suits his interpretation of the character well. The most efficient scene in the film is when Chips finds out that Katherine died when a bomb dropped on a RAF concert that she was performing in. O'Toole tries to control his emotions by slowly stacking the blank letters the students gave him as part of their April Fools' Day prank, but he has a hard time containing it.

I have two complaints about his performance. One involves his chemistry with Clark. In their early scenes together, O'Toole looks annoyed. I understand that maybe it's part of the character as he plays Chips as more stern. I didn't fully believe in their romance until Chips tells Catherine about his feelings standing up to Lord Sutterwick while in bed, and that was in the second act. The other caveat is O'Toole's singing. His singing voice is weak and doesn't contain much range. This was tolerable when he sang "Where Did My Childhood Go?" since it reflects his insecurities and need to open up more. However, when the song "What a Lot of Flowers" comes on, O'Toole still performs in his frail voice despite the tune needing more excitement and overall expression to sell it effectively. All in all, I can see why he was nominated for Best Actor for his performance at the 1969 Oscars even if it mainly feels like that was done because the last guy who played Mr. Chips won.

All in all, the 1969 movie musical version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" has good intentions and parts, yet it contains so many ideas to stand out from the 1939 version that it ultimately feels misguided. As a result, it falls short compared to its predecessor. Everyone involved, especially Ross, are certainly trying, yet it ends up being bloated and sort of dull. Above all, it doesn't help that the source material doesn't lend it well to being a musical. However, despite the flaws with O'Toole's performance, he is the best thing about this flick. I can see why viewers might like it, especially this one is the first version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" they've ever seen. I would recommend it to those who are highly interested in seeing the big movie musicals of the 1960s, every Peter O'Toole and Petula Clark movie, and every version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" (like myself).

A Man Called Otto (2022)

A Decent Remake of "A Man Called Ove"

[6/10 · 31 January 2023]

Let's talk about remakes. In this day in age in Hollywood, they are all the rage. They can fall into three categories: a passion project, a soulless cash grab, or a mix of the two in order to be as middle of the road as possible to reach a wider audience. They can also strive to enhance or add a dimension to the story that the original didn't explore before, or do exactly the same stuff as the original without trying to tell it in a different way. I have been thinking of this since I watched "A Man Called Otto" - the 2022 American remake of the Swedish adaptation of "A Man Called Ove." It was a flick that falls into the first and third camps and was better than I expected even though I still prefer the original.

Before we get started, let's talk about the elephant in the room: the title itself. When I found out that the title of the American adaptation was going to be called "A Man Called Otto," I wondered why. And then, I realized that the change was made to reach a wider audience than the original did, especially if they didn't like the presence of subtitles. As much as I, as well as other readers, would rather have the same title as the source material and the first film, let's face it, you would be hard pressed to find non-Scandanavian people who could pronounce Ove correctly (it's pronounced oo-veh). In fact, there's a running gag through the film, in which Otto tells the people he meets his name, and they comment on how odd it is. It almost makes me wonder if they were going to have him called Ove in the earlier stages of development.

The whole reason I had been thinking about remakes is because a Letterboxd reviewer named tyler called this movie "the disneyfication of Gran Torino (2008)" The part that struck me was about the disneyfication part because the film itself reminds me of a Disney live action remake. Specifically, it reminds me of the 2017 version of "Beauty and the Beast" - a film that I mostly liked despite my disappointment with certain things, but couldn't compare to the original. Both remakes try to make changes that make the story more relevant to a modern audience with various levels of success. This results in more complexity than the original stories contained.

In addition, while the title signifies the same plot being told with similar beats as the Swedish adaptation, it also indicates some changes in order to Americanize the story of the same name by Fredrik Backman. Director Marc Forester and writer David Magee tone down some of the darker elements of the story. Luckily, this doesn't involve the suicide attempts, as they are protrayed as melancholic and non-judgemental. Instead, the script eliminates some of the traumatic events that occurred in Otto's (Ove's) life like the way Ove's dad passed away and his childhood home going up in flames due to the work of the bureaucrats. Both are present in the book as well as in the 2015 Swedish version. I bet they did this to focus more on how Sonya changed Otto's life in the flashbacks. And while that's fine, without the other events, there's little explanation as to why Otto is the way that he is outside of a line that young Otto (played by Tom Hanks's real life son Truman) says that his life was black and white before Sonya came in.

Additionally, Forester and Magee make the movie quirkier and more on the nose than the original. The eccentricity is evident in the choice of music whenever Otto inspects the neighborhood and helps his neighbors out. It's roughly the same kind that's used in a lot of family-friendly flicks to indicate some form of quirkiness with its Wii-inspired composition. While the remake does this fine, the staccato violins in the original stand out more and reflect Ove's mindset more. The remake is even more blunt about certain things more so than the book or the Swedish movie. In the opening sequence, Otto goes shopping for some rope and acts rightfully annoyed about the customer service he receives. Later on, he turns off the gas and electricity in his home in order to take his own life. If that wasn't enough, when he comes in for work, there's a retirement party thrown for him, and someone decides to cut right where his face is on the cake. That made me laugh very hard because it was so blunt about its foreshadowing of Otto's suicide attempts.

Moreover, there were some decisions to make it more relevant to a wider audience. One of these included diverse casting. While Otto remains a white man, his ex-friend Reuben (aka Rune from the book and 2015 version) and his wife Anita are black. This makes the subplot with the real estate agency Dye & Merika feel more racially motivated, especially since whenever the white agent shows up, he blasts out rap music from his car, even though their son was in cahoots with the company. There are many ways to read into that, like how this may be commentary on housing discrimination that black Americans have faced for decades, even centuries. However, I'm not sure if this was in the intention of the people involved. The new neighbors are Mexican/Mexican-American. The neighbors in the novel and the original are Swedish and Iranian. Malcolm - the person with the bike - is a transgender male who doesn't like sports. He is a combination of two characters from the book - Adrian, the boy who wants a bike fixed, and Mirsad, whose dad kicks him out for being gay. Mack Bayda - the actor who plays Malcolm - is transgender in real life, so to incorporate that into the story was cool, especially with the amount of transphobia that has been present as of late. It also falls into the theme of acceptance that the book and the previous movie version espouse. Overall, I'm okay with these casting choices because they fit into the themes of the story, and the actors have solid performances.

Another decision that the film made to expand its relevance was containing social media commentary. During the scene, in which Otto tries to get himself run over by a train, an older man accidentally falls into the tracks. Like in the book and 2015 movie, Otto rescues him, while a bunch of onlookers film the incident on their phones. There are even closeups of the event from the smart phone's perspective. Like Ove, Otto criticizes the crowd for not doing more. Also, Luna (Lena from the book and 2015 flick) is a social media journalist, which provokes some annoyance from Otto. Like her previous counterparts, she wants to hear more from Otto about how he rescued the older man and hails him as a hero. At first, he locks her up in his garage, but when he's gathering people to help Anita to prevent the realtors from forcing Reuben into a retirement home, he contacts Luna to dig up how they've been retrieving their information illegally. I'm not entirely sure what the movie is saying about social media, yet I interpreted it as commenting on the negative and positive sides of intrusion. This theme is present throughout the film. Otto sees people who need his help as parasites that prevent from doing what he truly wants to do since he views them as incapable of completing certain tasks. This is like social media since people are so glued to their phones that it inhibits them from taking action. Overtime, his perceptions evolve after he gets to know them, and he utilizes their strengths. Social media also brings people together in the toughest of times and allows those to share their stories. Again, I'm not sure if this is what the movie is going for, but this is how I interpret it.

The performances are solid. The standouts are Mexican actress Mariana Treviño and Tom Hanks. Treviño plays Marisol - the Parvaneh equivalent from the book and 2015 film. Like the actress who played Parvaneh in the Swedish original, she portrays Marisol as pushy and determined, but caring. However, she comes off as a stereotypical Latina at times, especially when she gets loud, nervous, and reverts to speaking Spanish. This might have to do with the script. Even it made me prefer Bahar Pars's performance more, I still liked Treviño's characterization.

And now, I have to admit that Tom Hanks was better than I expected him to be as Otto. Like many people, I had my doubts about him playing the titular character because he's the most likable actor in all of Hollywood. How could he play a curmudgeon like Ove? Well, when I was watching it, I felt Hanks's commitment to the character, and during the course of the flick, I forgot that he was playing Otto. Plus, his emotional transformation was a little more obvious than Rolf Lassgård's, but it was still effective. However, at the end of the day, I still prefer Rolf Lassgård as Ove because even though I don't know any work he has done besides "A Man Called Otto," his characterization was more impactful than Hanks's, especially the scowl he wears on his face through majority of it.

Given what I've said, I'm not sure if I would feel the same way if I never saw the Swedish film adaptation. I've spoken with people who've seen the American remake, and they loved it. I can see why. It hits the same beats in the story in similar ways and retains the sentimentality of the novel. Plus, there's no subtitles to worry about. I think I would've liked it more if I saw the American remake first.

Overall, "A Man Called Otto" is an okay remake that tries to update the original Swedish movie in ways that are commendable but with mixed results. The beauty of the novel by Fredrik Backman is its simplicity. The American remake tries to complicate stuff that didn't always need to be. With that being said, I still liked it, and I can see why others love it. I would recommend to those who love Tom Hanks, want a feel good film that makes people cry every now and then, and have read the book. But at the end of the day, I would still want people to see the original movie "A Man Called Ove" more because while the remake certainly had passion behind it, it was still made to generate more money with a wider audience.

A Man Called Ove (2015)

A Deep and Simple Adaptation of a Beloved Novel

[10/10 · 24 January 2023]

When accepting the Best Foreign-Language Film award for Parasite at the 2020 Golden Globes, Director Bong Joon-ho said, "Once you overcome the 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films."

The reason why I bring up this quote is that there are many great films that just happen to be in a different language. This shouldn't be a detriment to the viewers. After all, there's a reason why we say we're watching a movie, instead of listening to it or reading it. If one looks past the subtitles, they will be able to access more excellent flicks. A great example of this is the 2015 two-time Oscar nominated Swedish movie "A Man Called Ove" due to the simple and effective translation of the book of the same name by Fredrik Backman to the screen.

Since 2012, the book has achieved popularity and retained a cultural legacy in the world of literature due to the deep and simple depiction of a curmudgeon finding ways to heal with the unlikeliest people in the unlikeliest ways. Director and writer Hannes Holm understood this when adapting this through various aspects like cinematography, the transitions, and where to place the big emotional beats. The look of the flick involves drab and bright colors, but they are used as a reflection of Ove's state of mind. In the beginning of the movie when Ove (played by Rolf Lassgård) is inspecting the neighborhood and later whenever he feels depressed, there's a blue tint that clouds the environment. Then, whenever he helps someone like the new neighbors, it brightens up. While this can come off as an obvious way to show how the main character is opening up and healing, it's not blasted into the viewers' faces because Holmes always ensures that the focus is on Ove and his thoughts.

Another element that works beautifully in the film is how it transitions into the flashbacks. Because the novel heavily relies on the stream-of-consciousness device, the movie utilizes this whenever Ove tries to take his own life. Specifically, it flashes back to various moments of Ove's past that get triggered through a variety of things like a conversation with Parvaneh - the pregnant Iranian neighbor (played by Bahar Pars). Then, these thoughts get interrupted when someone needs assistance. Even though I don't remember how the suicide attempts are depicted in the book, they are portrayed somberly in the movie, while the interruptions are more comical. Granted, these scenes can become predictable if the movie was in the wrong hands. Luckily, Holmes makes them into dreams that get disrupted whenever someone wants help. For example, when Ove attempts to take his own life the first time, Parvaneh calls on him to help direct her Swedish husband Patrick as he drives into the neighborhood. As a result, viewers know that someone is going to stand in the way of Ove and his suicide attempts, but the movie is so invested in the flashbacks that it comes as an rude awakening when someone needs Ove's help. This is where the humor comes from.

While the film has its quirky scenes, it's a tearjerker too, and it's another element that it does well. A lot of the emotional scenes take place during the flashbacks. These include the fire at Ove's childhood home and the bomb that goes off on the bus while Ove and his wife Sonja are on vacation. These are usually placed 20 minutes of each other, which allows viewers to think about what they saw and how it affects Ove in the present day while chuckling at various antics like him teaching Parvaneh how to drive. As much as I like the 1939 version of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips," it tries to wring out tears from audiences every 5 minutes, which gets tiring after a while. Speaking of that film, Sonja is like Katherine since both become the person that the titular characters love the most and are able to turn the titular characters' lives around. The main difference is that Sonja's presence remains constant even when she is not on screen because of how Ove constantly thinks of her. This permits audiences to form an emotional attachment to the character and feel the impact of the stuff that occurs to the two characters. Katherine is only present for 20 minutes in "Goodbye, Mr. Chips," and she is barely referred to after she dies despite Chips truly loving her. As a result, audiences don't feel the impact of Katherine and her influence on Chips in the same way that they do for Sonja and her effect on Ove.

And now, I must talk about the strongest aspect of this movie adaptation: the performances. All of the actors do a good job of capturing the spirit of their characters, but of course, I have to single out a few of them. The first is Bahar Pars who plays Parvaneh. Pars played her character as pushy and determined but caring, especially when she wants specifically Ove to help her out. If in lesser hands, Parvaneh could become a nagger, which can become one note very easily. This doesn't happen with Pars as she allows the character to display her caring side, especially when she gets to know Ove more. It also helps that Par and Lassgård have good chemistry with each other, which permits the characters' relationship to evolve naturally.

Ida Engvoll plays Sonja - Ove's wife. She mainly appears in the flashbacks with a younger Ove (played by Filip Berg). Engvoll portrays her as sophisticated, but with a sassy smile and a determination to help others as a teacher. There's also a no-nonsense element to her performance, which makes Ove's attraction to her all the more believable. This is especially true when Sonja out of the blue says that Ove will be a good father.

As mentioned earlier, Filip Berg plays the younger Ove in the flashbacks. Berg brings kindness and awkwardness to the character, showing how he was before all the tragedies occurred. At first, Anglo-American viewers might think that he might be either George or Fred Weasley from the Harry Potter movies, but his deep baritone voice dispels any notion and matches that of Lassgård's. Both Berg and Engvoll have good chemistry, which make their characters' love for each other more believable.

As much as everyone performs well in this movie, the strongest one undoubtedly belongs to Rolf Lassgård who plays the older titular character. The way he moves and speaks all embody a curmudgeon, but above all, he makes Ove more into a person that people can identify with than a caricature. Through his performance, Lassgård makes it clear that Ove fears being lonely and without purpose. Over the duration of the movie, Lassgård lightens up on Ove's curmudgeon ways while not entirely discarding them as the character helps others and opens up about his life and Sonja. The best indication of this emotional transformation is Lassgård smiling in the later parts of the movie when he's with Parvaneh or her daughters. Speaking of transformation, I have to talk about the makeup on Lassgård. Both him and Ove are 59 years old, but in the flick, Lassgård is made to look much older. This makes sense as the world has weighed Ove down so much that he has aged more. I didn't even realize that he had makeup on until I looked at actual photos of Lassgård, who has a full head of hair, and Ove has his balding gray tresses. The way that Lassgård is made up looks very realistic, and I can now understand why Eva Von Bahr and Love Larson got the nomination for Best Makeup at the 2016 Oscars. They deserved it.

In summary, the film adaptation of "A Man Called Ove" proves that great movies can come from other languages because of its deep and simple nature. Holmes truly understood the spirit of the novel and conveyed that in a variety of ways, but the strongest element of the film are performances as it should be with a simple story like this. I can definitely see why the Academy decided to nominate it for Best Makeup and Best Foreign-Language Film at the 2016 Oscars. Like the novel, I recommend the flick to everybody as long as they don't let the subtitles get in the way.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939)

A Good Example of Adapting a Book

[8/10 · 3 January 2023]

Last year, I reviewed "For Whom the Bell Tolls" the movie - a film that was so faithful to the novel of the same name that it was dull and barely cinematic. It made me realize that there are ways to keep to the spirit of the book while adapting it to the big screen. A good example of this is the 1939 movie adaptation of "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" starring Robert Donat and Greer Garson. It captures the warm, somber, and sentimental spirit of the 1934 novella of the same name, while making the necessary changes to make it cinematic through various aspects.

For the screenplay, R. C. Sherriff, Claudine West, and Eric Maschwitz expand and alter certain elements of the book for the movie. For starters, in the beginning of the novella, there are mentions of Mr. Chips disciplining his students at the beginning of his tenure at Brookfield to show them who's boss, especially how the first boy he punished was one named Colley. These get turned into a couple of scenes in the film. Some of them involve Chips failing to keep the boys in line on his first day at the school due to their unruly and chaotic behavior and then later punishing them by keeping them in the classroom while a cricket game is going on. As for Colley, child actor Terence Kilburn plays every generation of said character who came and went to Brookfield to symbolize the families that Mr. Chips remembers and influences at the school. These expansions help to reinforce the evolution of the relationship between the title character and the students.

As for the alterations, the main ones come at the beginning and the pivotal scene where Chips meets Katherine. The book starts off with the retired teacher sitting by the fire at Mrs. Wickett's place, reflecting on certain things, and then dozing off. It doesn't really do much to establish his character. I sense that the writers felt the same thing because the flick begins with an assembly commemorating the new fall term at Brookfield and a new teacher getting a brief tour of the school. The headmaster mentions that Mr. Chips is ill, so he won't be present. However, the film quickly cuts to the title character as he old-man sprints to the assembly, and he picks up a lost student along the way. Later on, he greets the returning and new students by remembering how their fathers and grandfathers were, and the latter warmly receiving him. My favorite part of that scene was how he points out that one student named Morgan was wearing trousers that are 3 inches too short just like his grandfather did. This is more effective in establishing who Chips is in a nutshell.

Additionally, the scene, in which Mr. Chips meets Katherine for the first time, plays out slightly differently in the movie. In the novella, he goes to the Lake District in England with a colleague named Rowden during the summer. While climbing a mountain, he encounters Katherine in a misunderstanding that she needed to be rescued, but he proceeds to injure his ankle while trying to get to her. After getting to know each other, Katherine and her friend help Chips get down the mountain.

In the film, a German teacher named Max Staefel (played by Paul Henreid) takes Chips on a trip to Austria during the winter break. Max is briefly mentioned in the book when it's revealed that he was killed during the Great War while fighting for the Germans. His character is expanded in the flick as being a nice guy who wants to help Mr. Chips to get his mind off of not getting the housemaster position (side note: it's interesting having a sympathetic German person in an Anglo-American film from 1939). Then, while Chips and Katherine get to know each other in the mountains, a search party is organized to find them. Both are eventually discovered. I bet these changes were done to consolidate certain characters and make it less on-the-nose on how Katherine's entire purpose in both the movie and the book is to rescue Mr. Chips from his old ways.

If I had to nitpick on the screenplay, it would be that it could've ended several times throughout the movie. In one scene, Mr. Chips and Katherine have a dramatic parting at the train station that's reminiscent in many romantic movies. As Katherine leaves, Chips looks despondent until Max shows and says that he and Flora (Katherine's friend) have arranged a church for them to be married in when they get back to England. Talk about things getting resolved quickly!

Now, let's move onto the costumes. Even though the clothes worn in the film are not as spectacular as other flicks released in 1939, they are effectively used in the story. The outfits worn by Robert Donat as Mr. Chips subtly emphasize how eccentric the character is. When the flick introduces a younger version of Chips in 1870, he is dressed with a coat with the top two buttons buttoned and that barely fits. Since the movie establishes how odd the character is with his unkempt hair, Airedale-like mustache, and how unfiltered he could be, this is a simple way of showing how he was not like other teachers. At one point, Chips's raggedy wardrobe gets pointed out when Headmaster Ralston confronts him about his old-fashioned habits. The way that Donat looks down at the worn robe makes it clear that the character didn't notice the garb in that way until that moment.

Moreover, the music is really good in capturing the cozy and nostalgic vibe of the flick. The school song sounds like something that was probably written centuries ago because of how choral it is. The voices exude a warmth tone, which suits the film very well. The melody is just as good when the instrumental plays during the background in various scenes. Also, "The Blue Danube" is exquisitely utilized throughout the flick. It's first used during a ball in Vienna, where Chips and Katherine waltz. Afterwards, whenever he recalls his time with his late wife, "The Blue Danube" plays. Not only does it symbolize the happiness he had with Katherine, but it also further emphasizes how he best remembers the feelings that he had whenever he looks back.

It's the decisions with things like costumes and music that make director Sam Wood effective. He directed the film adaptation of "For Whom the Bell Tolls" but this one is much better for many reasons. Wood is faithful to the source material, but he's able to make things cinematic more successfully like the first meeting between Mr. Chips and Katherine than the film I discussed prior. He also infuses plenty of humor that mainly come from how eccentric Mr. Chips is, but Donat plays it like he's in on the joke. Furthermore, the scenes involving some form of chaos are well done. This includes Chips's first day of teaching and how that goes awry very quickly. I especially love how there are closeups of the kids having a mischievous grin on their faces before messing with their schoolmaster.

Finally, I have to talk about the performances. Let's start off with Greer Garson. She plays Katherine in the movie. Even though the character is essentially an I'm-not-like-most-bicycle-riding-Suffragettes plot device that turns Mr. Chips's life around (this part is more apparent when Chips and Max are looking for Katherine and Flora, and they encounter another set of female bicyclists), Garson embodies her cheekiness and motherly kindness. She also has good chemistry with Donat. It helps that she has a memorable entrance where she emerges from the mist when Katherine and Chips meet for the first time in the mountains. On top of that, it was Garson's debut film. Although she's clearly supporting, I can see why Garson got nominated for Best Actress at the 1939 Academy Awards.

Next, let's talk about the kids. The boys as the students at the school act like any other kids who get amusement by messing with their teacher. And when they're punished, they act like the world is ending even though it's not. This is true when they have to stay in the classroom while a cricket game is going on. At the same time, they share a warm report with Chips, especially when he starts inviting them to tea on Sundays. They always seem to greet him warmly whenever they see him. I also have to give time to discuss how Terence Kilburn who plays every Colley Chips encounters at the school. Kilburn plays every generation with a different kind of personality. The first Colley starts off as mischievous, and they evolve until the last one Chips sees is timid.

Finally, I need to talk about Robert Donat and his performance as the titular character. On paper, Mr. Chips is eccentric, but unremarkable. Given the appearance mentioned earlier as well as the Latin-related puns, a lesser actor would've played him one note. Donat doesn't fall into that trap. Instead, he grounds Mr. Chips with warmth and sincerity. The emotional transformation of his character is believable because Donat establishes very early on that he wants to make a difference in his student's lives. A younger version of Chips attempts to console a young boy on the train to Brookfield with little success, but later on, that boy, now a man, thanks the more aloof and stoic teacher for helping him out. Of course, I have to comment on the makeup. It's the only time a movie directed by Sam Wood contains legitimately good makeup. Although Donat's comes off a little clown-like at the beginning, it becomes more fleshed out as the flick progresses. Overall, I can see how the physical and emotional evolution of the character landed Donat the Best Actor Oscar at the 1939 Academy Awards.

All in all, the 1939 film adaptation of "Goodbye Mr. Chips" captures the spirit of the novella of the same name while altering it for cinematic reasons. The decisions made for adapting the book are successful in maintaining the warm, somber, sweet, and humorous vibes. The biggest strength of the adaptation is the performances, especially Robert Donat's. I would recommend it to those who love black-and-white movies and to those who love films about teachers.

The Fountainhead (1949)

A Surprisingly Well Made, Yet Imperfect, Adaptation of a Flawed Novel

[6/10 · 26 September 2022]

Content warning: Suicide and toxic relationships will be discussed in this review.

Whenever a film adaptation of a novel comes out, there will always be people who will say, "The book is better than the movie."

For a lot of the time, that sentiment is true. However, there are instances in which people will assert that the film is better. Various outlets on the Internet have done many lists about this subject. However, in today's review, I'm going to discuss a movie that hasn't shown up on the more recent lists, but I think it should be at least considered. That is the 1949 film adaptation of "The Fountainhead" starring Gary Cooper and Patricia Neal - a surprisingly well made, albeit imperfect, adaptation of the flawed novel of the same name by Ayn Rand.

The movie itself is a faithful adaptation of the divisive book. Many of the stuff that's present in the novel made it into the film as mostly unaltered. This is so because Ayn Rand herself wrote the screenplay. Apparently, she had some previous experience in Hollywood as she worked as Junior Screenwriter for Cecile B. DeMille. As a result, there's a sense that she knew that she couldn't fit a 726-page book into a feature length movie, even though she wanted the speech that Howard Roark makes in court at the end to be in its entirety. The end result is about two hours. Many of the speeches, including the aforementioned one, are reduced. In addition, certain characters are reduced or expanded. Peter Keating's presence is drastically decreased, while Gail Wynand is introduced much earlier in the movie than he is in the tome.

Other changes occurred due to the Production Code. One of them includes the marriages that Dominique Francon has with Peter and later with Gail. In the novel, she marries Peter first, divorces him, weds Gail, and Gail separates from her when the Cortlandt trial is going on. Since the Hays Office didn't approve of divorce on screen, the film has Dominique already engaged to Peter in the beginning, and then Gail convinces him to break that off, so he could marry her. Then, at the end, when Gail loses everything with "The Banner," he takes his own life (note: this shows up almost out of nowhere in the movie, but in the novel, his character introduction literally has the news mogul contemplating whether or not he wants to end his life).

The other major change brought on by the Production Code has to do with the rape scene in the book. The Hays Office was apparently concerned with people getting away with crimes, but the novel tries to justify Howard raping Dominique because she smacked him prior. Instead of that kind of sexual assault, the movie "solves" this problem by having him forcibly kiss her and then depicting her trip, fall, and crying on the ground with him smirking over her.

As a film, "The Fountainhead" is visually appealing. Director King Vidor utilizes a lot of shadows, particularly on the backs of various characters, to show their ominous side. I also found the shadow shot in which Howard takes his mentor Henry Cameron back to his office to be very impressive because it displays the bleakness of the latter's state and of the former's future. In addition, the sets are mostly sparse to emphasize the characters. This is mainly done with wide shots, especially of Gail's office. Moreover, the Quarry scene is wonderfully done. For those who don't know, this is the sequence, where Dominique and Howard lock eyes for the first time. It's an effective and explicit display of the female gaze, which was rarely done in Hollywood's Golden Age, and I come back to it whenever I have the chance. Let's just say, it involves a drill.

And of course, since the main character is an architect, someone will ask, "Emily, what do you think of the architecture in the movie?"

Well, it's serviceable. Ayn Rand wanted Frank Lloyd Wright to design the buildings in the film, for he was inspiration for Howard Roark. However, Warner Brothers declined because they didn't want to pay Wright's fee of $250,000. Instead, Edward Carrere did this, and it's fine. It would've been better if Wright actually agreed to contribute. At the same time, the bank model and the Cortlandt building were effectively ugly by combining too many styles.

The film certainly tries and mostly succeeds in selling Objectivism. Most of the cast like Kent Smith as Peter, Robert Douglas as Ellsworth Toohey, and Raymond Massey as Gail do a good job in portraying how one should not be following the philosophy. Also, the movie has Ellsworth dressed up to the nines and grasping a cigarette holder most of the time. Patricia Neal plays Dominique. Even though I thought she was a little too over-the-top at times (which can be unintentionally hilarious), she was aloof and emotional when needed. She sells her character as Dominique tries to destroy Howard because of her love for him.

In addition, the movie has an interesting way of looking at Howard. Say what you want about the book, it clearly wants its reader to root for him even when he commits certain actions. The film uses a shadow on Gary Cooper's backside in the opening sequence to display how much of a menace he could be to society if he doesn't give in. Then in the confrontation sequence between Howard and Dominique, lots of dark shadows and suspenseful music, as if it's a horror flick, are used. At the end of the scene, there's a closeup of Howard smirking as he stares over Dominique. It's almost as if the movie is saying that while it doesn't approve of his actions, it gets where he's coming from.

Of course, the film has its problems. First off, alot of its issues mostly stem from the source material. The characters are exaggerated symbols for what Ayn Rand believed about society, and most of them go on philosophical rants. The movie wisely cuts down on most of those speeches, which results in good pacing. However, when it does include those lectures, they tend to slow the flick, especially right before the Cortlandt trial. In addition, the framing of Howard and Dominique's relationship is still romantic even though it's toxic and relies on set power dynamics. As mentioned in the last paragraph, the movie attempts to bring nuance to the confrontation scene, but it still can't get away from the fantasy romance framework. I mean the music turns passionate when Howard kisses Dominique despite the forced nature.

Speaking of the soundtrack, that's the second issue this film has. Max Steiner (the same guy who was the composer for "Gone With the Wind") does the score for this film. Outside of the movie, his music sounds wonderfully bombastic, which would make for a great album listen. I've specifically had the musical motif for Howard stuck in my head since I last watched it. In the context of the flick, it feels too melodramatic and on-the-nose for a story that's already histrionic and blunt to begin with. For example, when Gail (after marrying Dominique) invites Howard over to dinner, there's a big dramatic chord and stops to wait for the latter's reply. Along with Cooper's nonchalant response, that moment becomes unintentionally funny. It would've been more appropriate if it went along with Gail asking Howard if he accepts the commission to be the former's sole architect.

Another problem with the movie is Gary Cooper. On paper, it seemed like a good idea to cast him as Howard since his characters often were the strong, silent type. However, on screen, it doesn't quite work. For one thing, he is too old to play that character. The novel and the movie take place over a number of years starting from Howard getting expelled from school. This would make him about 20ish at the beginning, but Cooper was 47 at the time of shooting. This wasn't the first time that a 40-year-old Cooper played a college student. He did that briefly in the 1942 film "The Pride of the Yankees." In that section of that movie, he slouches and displays an "aww shucks" kind of attitude, and this worked because his character Lou Gehrig was kind of the person to do that. Howard Roark is not that type.

Additionally, the biggest problem with Cooper's performance is that it seems like he never fully embraces Howard's values. I'm not saying that every actor should believe the same things as the characters they play. Yet, their job is to convince the audience that they have. It becomes more clear as the story progresses that Cooper is the type of actor who doesn't fake it. In other words, if something doesn't sit well with him, he won't attempt to hide it. This is most apparent in Howard's big speech at the Cortlandt trial. He delivers it like it's a college lecture, and that's serviceable enough. However, there are times where Cooper dots his eyes to the right like he's reading off of cue cards, and this talk is the main selling point for Objectivism according to its fans. When I was doing research for this review, I found out that Cooper didn't understand that speech. That checks out. The only thing that prevents me from deeming Cooper as a complete bust in this flick is that he looks like Ayn Rand's perfect physical specimen and that he speaks with a strong and assertive tone.

All in all, the movie version of "The Fountainhead" certainly tries to capture the spirit of its imperfect source material. It does this with effective results like the cinematography and the set designs and sometimes with campy ones like the score and some of the performances. Despite (and because of) this, the film is more entertaining than the book because it translates the story to the screen that feels most appropriate. In other words, it's a well-made, but flawed, gateway to the imperfect book. I would recommend it to those who have already read the novel and to those who are watching movies starring Gary Cooper, Patricia Neal, or released in 1949. And if one doesn't like the Objectivism philosophy or other aspects of the novel and refuses to watch the movie, all I will say i.

For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943)

This is What Happens When An Adaptation is Too Faithful to the Book

[2/10 · 28 March 2022]

Content Warning: this review contains discussions on brown face.

Whenever a novel is adapted into film, there are three ways that it can be approached. One is to take elements from the book loosely. Another is to follow the main plot of the novel, but change certain aspects of it like structure and characters. The third way is to adapt almost everything from the book with little to no alterations. The movie version of For Whom the Bell Tolls falls neatly into the third category. I mentioned a while back that I was reading that novel by Ernest Hemingway, so I could watch the film version from 1943 starring Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman for The 300 Passions Podcast. Well reader, I viewed the film very recently, and it desperately wants to be the novel without fully capturing the spirit. I'll analyze the good, the bad, and the why aspects of the movie in this context.

Let's begin with the good. In addition, the action scenes were well shot. Cinematographer Ray Rennahan shoots these sections with a variety of angles that often includes lots of closeups of the main characters. These shots are extremely effective since they show those characters' reactions to what's happening around them and to others and emphasizes the stakes involved. A case in point is the scene, in which each member of the guerilla group tries to move past the fascists while on horseback as the latter shoots at them. The tension is well placed, and the long and closeup shots are appropriately used.

In addition, I like the look of the flick. It's not necessarily ugly, but it's de-glamorized. Knowing how Hemingway's novels contained a lot of realism, it makes sense to make the environment - high up in the mountains of Spain - as naturalistic as possible. This includes a color palette of white, tan, black, purple, blue, green, and brown - lots and lots of brown (we'll get to that when we get the why section of this review). Even Ingrid Bergman as Maria, who always looks beautiful, is de-glammed with her short hair and formless shirt and pair of pants. Also, the film shows plenty of sweat and blood, especially during the action scenes. All of these elements make it look visually effective. This marks the end of the good elements of the film.

Now, let's move to the bad, or more specifically the dull. Where to start...oh yes, there's a lot of talking. There's nothing wrong with that since that can be effectively used to get points across in filmmaking, but movies are still a visual medium. In other words, people go to the cinema to watch flicks, not to listen to them. Many scenes in For Whom the Bell Tolls contain scenes with heavy dialogue with little to no variety. For those not familiar with the book, these can be painfully boring to them and make it harder for them to follow along.

To be fair, this isn't entirely the film's fault. The book consists of a lot of dialogue as well. The main problem with the movie is that the filmmakers involved, including director Sam Wood and screenwriter Dudley Nichols, felt that they needed to include almost everything in the book. Given that the novel is unnecessarily long, this makes the flick just the same. As mentioned earlier, the film even has overture music and an intermission. Yes, it's almost Gone With the Wind long. Speaking of that movie, Sam Wood was briefly involved with that one, so I have a feeling that he wanted to make his own epic based on a popular book. For Whom the Bell Tolls the book sold over half a million copies when it was originally published in 1940. According to the recent Ken Burns documentary on Hemingway, the only novel that sold more at that time was in fact Gone With the Wind. In other words, by making For Whom the Bell Tolls a cinematic epic, Wood was making Oscar bait.

Speaking of translating the book to the screen, whatever nuance the novel had got eliminated or watered down in the movie. This essence mainly lied in the politics surrounding the Spanish Civil War and the trauma some of the characters face. For example, in the book, one of the guerilla members asks Robert if he's anti-fascist. He says yes, and the guy who pondered that automatically assumes that he's pro-communist. Robert quickly clarifies that he's both anti-communist and anti-fascist (beliefs that Gary Cooper himself held in real life I may add). The screenplay depoliticized the story so much that outside of a few lines of dialogue, there's barely any indication of which side the guerilla group is fighting on. I understand doing that while the United States still held its isolationist stance until 1941. Additionally, Robert himself was only involved with the Spanish Civil War to fight for democracy; he didn't care much about the politics surrounding it. However, the film was released in 1943, and the US was fully involved in a war fighting against you guessed it - fascists! I have a feeling that Sam Wood's staunch anti-communist beliefs played a part in that (I'm not saying that he was a fascist).

In addition, the book talks a lot about trauma. A little of this is retained since Marie's short hair is the result of the forceful actions of fascist thugs. However, the novel explores this more along with Robert's family history. Robert has inner monologues about what it means to be a man, and he recalls how he wanted to be like his grandfather, who fought in the American Civil War and lived, because his own father took his own life. I'll let that one slide because Hollywood wasn't (and still is to a degree) exactly comfortable talking about mental wellness issues at the time.

What about the performances? I found a majority of them to be dull. I normally enjoy Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman, yet their performances were bland. Granted, their characters in the book are already mostly boring to begin with, but great actors can bring depth and dimension even to characters who are not known for those things. I'm not saying Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman are not good actors (the latter had finished shooting Casablanca, which contains one of her finest performances on screen, when she accepted the role of Maria). What I am claiming is that they could've done more with those characters. Cooper is doing his usual strong silent type with no real variation, while Ingrid is a little too happy playing a woman who recently had a traumatic experience. With the latter, she seemed more concerned with her hair than with dealing with the trauma that is associated with the short tresses. In fact, everytime she appears on screen, Bergman touches her hair at some point, even when Maria becomes more comfortable around Robert. It's as if all of her trauma would go away if her hair grew.

Now, let's discuss Katrina Paxinou. She won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her part as Pilar in the film (the sole award that the film won out of 9 nominations). Film critics have decreed it as one of the worst Best Supporting Actress wins, and I can't say that I disagree with them. Paxinou's performance is basically "I'm a strong, confident, and ugly woman, hear me roar! Roar, roar, roar!"

Granted in the book, her character doesn't have a whole lot to do besides show off how much of a better leader she is than her husband Pablo is. Additionally, The 300 Passions Podcast host Zita Short was right when she said that as Pilar, Paxinou moves and talks with purpose and always has a goal. Nevertheless, the issues that I have with Cooper and Bergman apply with her too. She doesn't elevate the role outside of what the script calls for. It's a shame because I was really looking forward to seeing how Pilar would be depicted on film after reading the book.

And last but not least, we must discuss the why. What is the why in this case? I'm glad you ask: it's the brown face. All of the guerilla members that aren't Robert are caked with brown face to make them look more "Spanish."

Now, of course, I understand that there are some people, especially Americans, that don't realize that a lot of Spaniards actually have a variety of skin colors, including pale. This is mainly because of the notion that white people have that Spanish-speaking people have brown skin. I easily comprehend this ignorance on Wood's end for that decision, yet I'm not letting him off the hook. However, half of the blame for that problematic element is Hemingway himself. Throughout the novel, he describes the supporting characters as having brown skin even though he went to Spain as a foreign correspondent to cover the Spanish Civil War, so he knew what Spainards looked like. And yet, he still chose to depict the Spanish characters with brown skin. It doesn't help that the movie has the more flawed supporting characters with darker brown skin as opposed to Marie, who is nice and beautiful and possesses a lighter hue.

It's because of this decision that I couldn't take the performances of the supporting cast seriously. This is especially true of Paxinou, who won an Oscar for that role! In addition, while I was watching the film, I noticed that there was a clear line of where the brown makeup ended on her neck, and I could see a bit of her naturally pale skin below that. It frustrates me to know that the film wanted these characters with pancaked brown skin to be taken seriously. However, not only is that makeup extremely uncomfortable, but it's also a bad job.

Given all of my criticisms, For Whom the Bell Tolls is not the worst movie adaptation of an Ernest Hemingway work. That distinction goes to the film version of Hemingway's short story The Snows of Kilimanjaro starring Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, and Susan Hayward. That one is a dirge with a capital D with uninteresting visuals and characters that I didn't care about for one second. At least, the former tried to make me care about the people involved in blowing up the bridge, and that was successful...sometimes.

Overall, the movie version of For Whom the Bell Tolls is dull with a capital D.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945)

Wonderful Adaptation!

[9/10 · 11 February 2020]

I have seen plenty of movie versions of well-known novels in my lifetime, and the film A Tree Grows in Brooklyn directed by Elia Kazan is definitely one of the better book-to-screen adaptations. This February marks the 75th Anniversary of the film's release, and I will take a deep dive into why it is a very good adaptation of the novel by Betty Smith.

Published in 1943, the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn has stood the test of time as it contains empathetic characters, a realistic portrayal of a turn-of-the-century Brooklyn, and willingness to show that life is not always fair and that one must persevere through the hard times. In fact, it was one of the one hundred books listed to compete for the title of "America's Favorite Book" in The Great American Read.

When I found out that the novel got a movie two years after its publication, I was initially worried. A lot of the films from that period tended to sugar coat a lot of aspects like crime, death, and even childbirth because of the Production Code. Luckily, the movie works its way around the code, especially in the scene where Katie is in labor. As Katie lies in bed while Francie reads some of her essays, the bedframe is back towards the camera, but it mainly focuses on the closeups between mother and daughter. Moreover, the look of the film is pretty realistic despite everyone looking clean. The main characters' clothes look pretty raggedy. Aunt Sissy's wardrobe is a little more glamorous, yet ridiculous at the same time with a too-tight corset and a long feather in her straw hat.

Another strength of the flick is that it revamps the structure of the novel. The constant complaint that contemporary reviewers make of the book is that it is framed in a very awkward way. It starts off with Francie at age 11, and then for some reason, it transitions to when Johnny and Katie first met and progresses in a linear fashion until Francie is 16 and off to the University of Michigan. In the movie, it simply takes place over the course of a year when Francie is 11 and ends when Katie accepts Officer McShane's marriage proposal.

With that new structure, the film had to condense and cut many aspects. For example, there are plenty of scenes, in which Francie gets taunted and bullied in the cramped school, and the teachers don't do anything about it because of a so-called hierarchy. The movie reduces this to a scene, in which Francie expresses thoughts unrelated to the subject being taught, and the teacher straight up ignores her. While the extent of Francie's unhappiness with the school in her district is reduced, the point still remains, so nothing was lost. In addition, Katie has two sisters - Sissy and Evie - in the book. Evie and her family (including her whiny husband Willy) are eliminated from the movie because they barely contribute anything important to the story. And let's face it, Sissy is a more interesting character than Evie. These are why I can see how it got nominated for Best Adaptive Screenplay.

The strongest aspect of this movie are the performances. Since the novel is a character-driven one, the film version would need actors to capture the spirit of the people they play, and this delivers. Dorothy McGuire plays Katie with frustration, practicality, and hope. Frustration in that she has to work all the time because Johnnie cannot provide for the family due to spending money on liquor. Katie has to be practical to show that Francie can always find a way to survive, and she displays hope in that Neely can grow to become a better man than his dad. All of these aspects make McGuire look tired and a lot older than she should be. (Fun fact: she was only 15 years older than Peggy Ann Garner - the actress who played Francie). Additionally, James Gunn won an Oscar for his portrayal of Johnnie, and it is not hard to see why. Gunn pulls out a terrific performance of a dreamer who fears the reality of being a husband and a father. He exudes charm whenever he walks into a room. I could not take my eyes off of him whenever he was present. During the scenes, in which Johnnie becomes more self-destructive, Gunn becomes more sympathetic and knowing that death is coming. Here is another fun fact: producers warned Kazan of casting Gunn in the movie because of his alcoholic past, but Kazan noted that that would add more to the realism. What a great choice!

In spite of my praise, I do have to complain about one thing: the music during the opening credits. The score transition among the credits was jarring. It is as if they tried to slam so many songs of the time period in limited amount of time. As the movie progressed, the interpolations got better. I am not going to complain about this too much since this was Elia Kazan's first movie. Not everything is going to be perfect on the first try.

Overall, the film version of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn captures the spirit of the book perfectly. Even though I had my hesitations of it being made during the Production Code era, I thought that they did a good job of working around it. Kazan captures the essential aspects of the book effectively with the realistic look and great actors. It is good to know that the movie version stands the test of time as much as the novel does.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette (2019)

After 10 months of release delays, the movie was worth the wait even with its differences from the book.

[8/10 · 3 September 2019]

About two weeks ago, I saw Where'd You Go Bernadette with some members of the book club that I facilitate. We had been looking forward to seeing it ever since we heard the announcement that book by Maria Semple was going to be turned into a film last year. After 10 months of release delays, I felt that the movie was worth the wait even with its differences from the book since it stuck to the core of the story.

Directed by Richard Linklater, Where'd You Go Bernadette is about a woman who was once a famous architect. After years of sacrificing her career to take care of her husband and daughter, she tries to reconnect with her creativity by going an adventure that makes her and her family realize her truth worth.

For those who are familiar with the book, it is easy to see the shift in perspective. The novel focuses more on Bernadette's daughter Bee as she tries to find her mom through various letters and documents. In contrast, the movie emphasizes the title character so much that its opening scene actually reveals where she had gone to. In other words, a more accurate title for the film version of Where'd You Go Bernadette is What Made You Go Here Bernadette. Say what you want about that, but I did not have a problem with that because the film shows what led the titular character to go on her journey straight from the horse's mouth. Letters and documents can only reveal so much.

Another major difference between the book and the movie is the absence or reduction of some subplots in the latter. The subplots that were eliminated were Elgie - Bernadette's workaholic techie husband - getting his secretary Soo-Lin pregnant - and Audrey - Bernadette's "nemesis" - getting in trouble at the hotel that she stays at after the blackberry incident. Even though I did not mind them in the book, I was glad that Linklater did away with them. They made the plot more complicated than it should be, especially the Elgie/Soo-Lin saga. Elgie is a good husband to Bernadette and tries to help, yet he simply does not realize how creatively deprived she is. Additionally, the subplot of Bee going to Choate - a prestigious boarding school - is reduced in the movie. In the book, Bee eventually goes to Choate, yet because of her mom's disappearance, she becomes so depressed that it affects her attitude and grades. While it does add some nuance to her relationship to Bernadette, it again makes the story far more complicated than necessary. That is why in the movie, Bee simply does not want to go after some careful consideration.

The primary complaints about the movie revolve around three things that I am not bothered by: the pacing, Linklater's creativity, and the fake YouTube documentary. To begin with, reviewers quibble about how slow it was in the beginning. I personally did not mind this because a good chunk of it shows how eccentric Bernadette can be, the bond between her and Bee, and her relationship to other people. Moreover, people seem to agree that this is Linklater's least creative effort. I understand where they are coming from since he directed Boyhood, which was shot over a 12-year period, and he plans to do the same thing for the movie adaptation of Merrily We Roll Along, just over a 20-year period. To them, Where'd You Go Bernadette is not the most ground-breaking film from him. Maybe it comes from the fact that I have not seen his other films, but I am not worked up by this because there is a lot of pressure to be creative in Hollywood. It is fine to do something simple every now and then. Plus, there is something quite innovative in Bernadette, and that is the faux YouTube documentary. The video serves as exposition for Bernadette's architectural career, but people have complained about how it felt like they were in another movie while watching that part. I admire the documentary's authenticity, yet at times, the main film can lose itself through this video. Despite that, it knows when to get back to the main story.

Nevertheless, the one main problem that I have with this movie is how everything is neatly resolved. Conflicts like the one between Bernadette and Audrey are naturally played out, yet they are solved when the script calls for it. Hollywood has always done this, so that does not annoy me. What irritates me is that the main story is supposed to be necessarily complicated. The reality is that not every problem is neatly tied up like strings on a present.

Overall, despite its alterations from the book, the movie version of Where'd You Go Bernadette is still good and faithful to the novel, for it focuses on the main story. I would recommend watching the film to anyone who is interested, especially to people who have read the book. Not every movie that is based on a novel is going to be 100% faithful, but as long as one sticks to the core of the story, films like Where'd You Go Bernadette are worth watching.