Book vs Film: Little Women (2019)

 

For someone who loves reading as much as I do, sometimes I feel like a terrible booknerd, because I’ve never been drawn to what people refer to as “the classics”. I’ve sampled the works of lauded authors such as Dickens, Dumas, and Hugo several times, but have always found them stuffy and overdescriptive. This is not a slam on these authors by the way. During their time, they were paid by the word, and even Dickens had to make the rent.

But when I found an old, battered copy of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women in a thrift shop earlier this year (pre-COVID, when thrift shopping was thing people still did). I picked it up on a whim, and read it for the first time last February. Like so many millions before me, I was utterly charmed by the story of the March girls and their mother.

Because I was so newly acquainted with the book, I’d also never seen any of the numerous film adaptions that have come out over the years. So Greta Gerwig’s 2019 adaptation starring Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, and Laura Dern, is the first film version of Little Women that I’ve ever seen.

One thing that struck me immediately was that instead of just giving us the same old Sunday hat wrapped in a new bow, Gerwig has cut the hat into shreds and refashioned it into something quite new. The film more or less follows the familiar plot of the book, but she adds her own narrative touches, including a few scenes that have a significant impact. While many of the characters (Marmie, Beth, and Meg) remain true to their book versions, the characters of Jo and Amy have been significantly altered, and mostly for the better.

An interesting choice by Gerwig is to split the timeline of the movie. Instead of opening with the young March girls living with their mother in Massachusetts, it begins with Jo already living in New York and Amy having a chance encounter with Laurie in Paris. After introducing all the characters, it then flashes back to show them when they were younger, eventually splitting into two parallel storylines.

Some people are saying they loved the split timeline, and that it gives the film more emotional resonance. I will say that it’s definitely an interesting spin on the story, and keeps it from being just another run-of-the-mill adaptation. But I wasn’t expecting it, and it was super confusing for awhile. Especially for my poor husband, who generally doesn’t like historical dramas and had barely heard of Little Women. We both spent the first half an hour trying to figure out when various scenes were taking place, since there aren’t a lot of visual cues other than the girls’ hair. And the edits sometimes happen so abruptly, such as later in the film with the German editor, that I found it difficult to stay immersed. If you aren’t familiar with the book, I might suggest watching the 1994 version first, which tells the story in a more straightforward manner. I haven’t seen it, but it stars 90s-era Winona Ryder and Claire Danes, so it can’t be that bad.

But Gerwig does a suberb job here at examining each of the character and getting to the root of what makes them interesting. Book-Amy is a spoiled brat who always seems to get her way. Film-Amy is also a spoiled brat in the beginning, but she grows and matures over the course of the film. The speech she gives to Laurent about what it means to be a woman in a world controlled entirely by men is a standout, and gave me a new respect for the character. Played by Midsommar’s Florence Pugh, she gives the character a spine of steel under her flouncy blue dresses. The scene, which isn’t part of the source material, is only one example of how Gerwig has subtly highlighted its feminist qualities without making them overbearing.

Equally effective was Timothee Chamelet’s portrayal of Laurie. In the book, he comes off as juvenile and indecisive, and I mostly wanted to smack him. While reading, I got the rather unkind assumption that he was just settling for Amy, and that she was all too thrilled to get her claws in him. But Chamelet manages to make Laurie sympathetic, and by the time he confesses his love for Amy, I genuinely believed that he cares for her (though still not quite as much as Jo). At least after seeing him in Little Women, I have higher hopes for Chamelet’s role as Paul Atreides in the upcoming remake of Dune.

But while Chamelet improves upon the role of Laurie, this film is focused entirely on its female cast. We see each of the women, except perhaps Beth, struggle with what it means to own nothing for themselves, in a world where their choices are between selling themselves into marriage or a lifetime of lonely spinsterhood. From Meg’s burning desire for material things she’ll never possess, to Amy being instructed by her aunt (a surprisingly understated Meryl Streep), that the responsibility for the financial protection of her family rests solely on her (Amy) making a good marriage. Jo of course has long been a feminist icon, and her portrayal by Saoirse Ronan captures the film from the beginning. Each actress brings something new to their role, and they all work as a unit without one trying to upstage the other. Ronan ends up outshining them all, but only because Jo is such a vibrant character, and played with such grace, that the eye can’t help but focus on her.

Overall, I sincerely enjoyed Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women. I’ll definitely give it a watch on another day, and I’m interested to see how it holds up against some of the other adaptations that are out there.

May The Fourth Be With You! Here Are My (Not-So-Kind) Thoughts on The Rise of Skywalker.

Before I say anything, let me state outright that this is not an article from a butthurt fan girl about how Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker raped my childhood, shat on my lawn, and kicked my puppy.

I don’t feel personally betrayed by the fact that the final installment in a global phenomenon spanning forty years and worth an estimated $70 BILLION* somehow managed to cut off its own head in the opening five minutes, only to spend the next two hours chasing it around with no thought to story structure or character development. Okay, judging by the length of that last sentence I might be a little mad, but I’m dealing.

I simply want to discuss how they (and I’ll get to who they are in a second) managed to take a film series beloved by literally billions of people, and fail so completely on every single level.

• Maybe it was because JJ Abrams got dealt a raw deal, since Episode 8 director Rian Johnson widely diverged from his plans for the trilogy with The Last Jedi. But Abrams chose not to direct Jedi **. He had the option, but declined for reasons known only to himself and whatever island of cocaine and hookers he was living on at the time. So for him to just take everything that Johnson built on with Jedi and toss it away like it didn’t even exist was really idiotic. You don’t get to walk away from a project, come back two years later to discover you don’t like what they did, then kick it all down and start over. It doesn’t work like that in filmmaking.
• Maybe it was because Carrie Fisher passed away, and Abrams had planned the third film around her character. Yeah, this one really sucks. Carrie Fisher was an icon, not only for film nerds, but for mental health advocates everywhere. But you know what, Abrams? Tough cookies. Find a new idea. Because for her last role to be a hastily cut, awkwardly squished mush of lines combined with the same terrifying CGI mashups we saw in Rogue One was an incredible dishonor to the actress.

 

Props to Billie Lourd, but this was so unsettling. ***

 

• Maybe it was because he had to deal with both Disney’s expectations, and the hype of foreign audiences. In short, I’ve heard people say that Abrams can’t be blamed for Skywalker, since he had to deal with a lot of pressure from the Mouse, plus had to make sure that the film would be a global success. To which I say: fuck that. Abrams knew what he was getting into. He simply was too untalented or too lazy (more the latter, imo) to bother making a great screenplay when he knew that a half-baked one could be done quicker. So he could retire back to his island of cocaine and hookers.
• I think it’s because Abrams is simply a bad storyteller. Who decided this man knew anything about tension? Or plotting? Or pacing? Or building character development? Was it during Lost? Cloverfield? Super Eight? Bet you had to Google that last one. He only start getting noticed after the 2009 Star Trek reboot, which didn’t require him to actually come up with his own ideas, but simply to regurgitate enough fan-nostaglia onto a big screen to justify his budget.  So far, all that Abrams has shown a talent for is taking a somewhat good idea and elevator-pitching it to the right people in order to get enough money to maintain his lifestyle before those people realizes he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.
• Note: I haven’t actually mentioned much of the plotline of Skywalker, and that’s because if I spend fifteen minutes trying to explain what actually happens in the movie, it will succeed the amount of time Abrams spent on the script.

 

I started this review off by saying I wasn’t a butthurt fangirl, but I suppose maybe I am a little. I mean, I grew up on the original trilogy. I was only eleven when Phantom came out, and a teenager who thought Hayden Christensen was really cute for Episodes II and III. So maybe I didn’t know what it meant to be just…unbearably let down by Star Wars. Well this is it, I guess. And it’s left an even worse taste in my mouth than the last season of Game of Thrones.

Oh well. At least we’ll always have Jar-Jar.

May the Fourth be with you everyone!

 

 

Book vs Film: The Martian

     

 

This is one of the very rare instances where I prefer the film to the book. In no specific order, here is why. Spoilers abound.

The basic plot: Astronaut Mark Watney has been left for dead on Mars after an accident occurs during a sandstorm. He must rely on his wits and ingenuity to survive, while back on Earth a team of scientists work together to find a way to bring him home.

1.) Ridley Scott can be very hit-or-miss, but he is a genius when it comes to science fiction. I say that in full recognition of the lukewarm Prometheus and the oddly disjointed Alien: Covenant. The future presented in The Martian isn’t as high-tech and gloomy as Alien or Blade Runner, instead it deals with technology that is probably not that far off, as well as plenty of tech will be familiar to the average viewer. Scott incorporates the scientific and technical elements seamlessly into the plot. At one point, when Watney is building a hexadecimal communication system, the mathematics takes a running jump to the level that only a computer engineer could understand. Scott wisely decides not to spend too much time explaining how this system works, instead relying on the trusty science fiction fallback of “it works because science”.

Ridley Scott has long ago mastered the art of using practical effects as much as possible, and when he does resort to CGI he deploys it with a skill and grace that other directors should aspire to. After this year’s overly frantic Ready Player One and the abysmal Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, it was a pleasure to watch someone use special effects to enhance a well-told story.

And, oddly enough for Ridley Scott, this film almost has an upbeat feel. Most of which is due to the soundtrack. Speaking of which…

2.) It’s one of my all-time favorite soundtracks. Full disclaimer, I’m currently listening to Earth, Wind, and Fire while drinking a glass of wine on a Saturday night. I have a thing for disco. That said, the disco music, which is mentioned in Weir’s novel as the only thing left for Mark Watney to listen to after his team’s departure, is an inspired choice. The combination of the desolate Martian landscape, the lone and lonely figure isolated on a foreign planet, and the cheerful tunes of ABBA is perfect. I was reminded of Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire, another film which uses peppy, upbeat music as a background for rather depressing events. Because of this The Martian maintains an optimistic tone despite it’s admittedly bleak subject matter.

3.) Ridley Scott attracts some of the most talented people for his films. Star Matt Damon carries the film on his back. His delivery of Mark Watney is funny and sad and scared and cocky all at once. He definitely earned his Best Actor nomination. Filling out the cast are talents such as Jeff Daniels, Jessica Chastain, Kristin Wiig, Michael Pena, Sean Bean, Kate Mara, and  Donald Glover in a small but hilarious role.

4.) I haven’t talked much about the book yet. This is because, for me, the book didn’t have as great an impact as the movie. I enjoyed the novel, but it was a more straightforward science fiction story. The movie brought a sense of comedy and levity to the difficult proceedings that is lacking in Andy Weir’s novel.

I also feel that technological and mathematical concepts presented in The Martian are more easily understood in a visual format. The novel often feels bogged down in mathematics, and I occasionally struggled to picture what was actually happening as Mark Watney improvises different ways to stay alive on a lifeless planet.

I can’t think of more than ten instances where I’ve truly preferred a film adaptation over the original novel. Even though I have to admit that this is one of those cases, it is only because Andy Weir gave the filmmakers such a great concept in his novel. While I truly enjoyed Weir’s The Martian, I absolutely love Ridley Scott’s film interpretation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go listen to more disco.

Book vs Film: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

                                     

 

Welcome back to Book vs Film, one of my favorite segments where I like to throw up bestselling novels against their film adaptations!

This week we’re looking at The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (GLPPS), the 2008 novel by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows versus its 2018 counterpart starring Jessica Findlay Brown and Lily James.

In no particular order, here are my thoughts on the film versus the novel. I will try to keep it as spoiler-free as possible but may give away certain plot points.

1. This film is a Downton Abbey reunion.  Part of the reason I was so excited to see this movie was that at least four of the main characters were involved with Downton Abbey, my favorite drama about rich British people chatting. Lily James, who plays bright-young-thing Rose on Downton appears here as Juliet Ashton, the writer and book lover who is first drawn to the story of the book club on Guernsey. Jessica Findlay Brown is Elizabeth McKenna, the popular but mysteriously absent creator of the club. Penelope Wilton (also from Doctor Who) is a grief-stricken widow and Matthew Goode is Juliet’s friend and publisher. The sight of all these comfortingly familiar faces helps to ground GLPPPS in its historical time period.

2. Lily James is strangely flat in her role. One of the most engaging parts of the novel is Juliet Ashton’s sincere love of books and literature. She is fully capable of defending her opinion on the relevant styles and thoughts of the day, but does so with such cheerfulness that she never comes across as schoolmarmish. Lily James, who was so bubbly and joyful in Downton Abbey and Disney’s Cinderella, never comes across as a great lover of reading. Juliet Ashton’s infectious curiosity is also missing, and her eventual spontaneous journey to Guernsey happens almost as a lark rather as a deliberate decision to learn more about the lives of the people there. James seems unable to commit to the more dramatic elements of the plot as well, almost as if she is afraid of looking less than pretty.

Lily James, GLPPPS, StudioCanal Films

3. Jessica Findlay Brown is tragically underused. I understand that Brown’s character doesn’t appear in person during the events of GLPPPS. She is a memory, a reference, a figure in a funny or sad story. Despite that, in the book she always felt so full of life, a bright spot in a dark world that everyone remembers with a mixture of joy and pain. This story belongs to Elizabeth McKenna as much as it does to Juliet Ashton. In the film, she is just demoted to just one of many quirky characters that inhabit flashbacks and whispered stories. Her daughter is supposed to be a turning point in the plot, but is instead relegated to a side note in the film. For an actress as beautiful and talented as Brown, I thought director Mike Newell would find a way to make her shine.

Jessica Brown Findlay, GLPPPS, StudioCanal Films

4. The film looks absolutely stunning. Though it was shot in parts of Devon, Bristol, and London instead of Guernsey, the harsh rocky landscape of coastal Britain is always breathtaking to look at. The time period is also accurately portrayed, and the attention to detail on the costumes and props is of the impeccable quality usually found in British historical dramas.

5. The beginning of the film attempts to pay homage to the letter-writing style of the book, but doesn’t quite pull it off. During the first twenty minutes or so of the movie, Lily James’ Juliet Ashton is exchanging letters with Dawsey Adams, a farmer on Guernsey played by Michael Huisman. The movie accomplishes this through use of narrative voice-over and long shots of James curled up in various armchairs, reading letters while drinking tea. Although I appreciated that Newell wanted to include a nod to the letter exchanges of the novel, but it came across as a bit too obvious. Especially when it ends abruptly during the first act and is never revisited.

Overall, I thought the film did a good job of capturing the main plot points and historical details of GLPPPS, but a little bit of the novel’s heart was lost in translation. Given it’s almost complete lack of publicity or marketing, I wonder if the studio didn’t see that as well.

My vote: Book > Film

Happy reading everyone!

Check out our other Book vs Film Reviews!

The Martian

The Shining

Interview With the Vampire

 

Book vs Film: The Shining

 

Fittingly enough for October, I spent a last weekend at a cabin in the woods. And while there were more loons and squirrels than ghosts and ghouls, I took the opportunity to re-read one of my all-time favorite horror novels, The Shining by Stephen King. It is considered by many to be one of his best works, which is saying a lot considering he is one of the most popular and prolific authors still writing today.

While King’s The Shining has definitely earned its place in the higher echelons of the horror genre, I have never quite understood the esteem given to Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 adaptation of the novel. While I was re-reading the book over the weekend, it only served to remind me how utterly superior it is to the movie version.

In no specific order, here are my thoughts on The Shining novel version the film. Spoilers abound for both.

1.) The film is horribly miscast. I might be in the unpopular opinion crowd here but I absolutely hate Jack Nicholson’s interpretation of Jack Torrance. He plays Jack as a mentally unstable semi-psychopath straight from the beginning. The novel version of Jack is a flawed individual who loves his family and is eventually worn down by the dark forces of the Overlook. Nicholson instead chose to glower and menace from the very first scene, and spends the entire running length of the film chewing the scenery.

Shelley Duvall, as Wendy Torrance, is almost unbearable to watch. She is meek and whiny and shrill. Book Wendy is certainly submissive to her husband, but she fights for the safety of her son and it is her fierce love that has kept her family together. Wendy fights her own demons throughout the course of King’s novel, but she is never reduced to a mewling puddle on the floor.

2.) Kubrick basically tortured Shelley Duvall throughout the course of filming. It could be that part of my dislike for Shelley Duvall in Kubrick’s film is the fact that he put her through such psychological strain that she would frequently collapse from mental exhaustion. She was kept isolated from much of the cast and made to perform takes hundreds of times all while Kubrick was screaming at her. Apparently the stress was so great that her hair began to fall out. Kubrick’s interpretation of Wendy Torrance is utterly misogynistic. She is just there to make stupid decisions and scream a lot.

3.) Jack Torrance is supposed to be an imperfect but dedicated husband and father. In my opinion, one reason why Stephen King’s work is so difficult to translate onto film is that so much of the tension takes place in the minds of his characters. The reader spends so much time sharing headspace with the Torrance family that we grow to understand and appreciate their various strengths and flaws. So when I’m reading The Shining, I identify with Jack’s struggle with alcoholism as much as I respect his fervent desire to better himself for his wife and son. The reader feels that mixture of guilt, pain, sadness, and love. But because the battle for the soul of Jack Torrance takes place within the mind of Jack Torrance, it’s difficult to convey without resorting to voice-over narration which would have been equally ineffective. So instead, we’re left with Jack Nicholson who tried to convey that inner turmoil by acting like an overly toothy nutjob.

4.) Points must be given for setting and cinematography. I personally do not believe Stanley Kubrick deserves his place in the higher rankings of film directors. However, I will say that he was capable of delivering some truly stunning visuals. Horror films in the last decade rely too heavily on quick edits, jump scares, and screechy music to ramp up suspense. Kubrick understands the creepiness of the long shot, and his use of twisty hallways, looming staircases, and the general grandeur of the hotel set are all gorgeous to look at. His use of bright, primary colors contrasted with the gloominess of other set pieces is another reason why this film is mentioned so often in conversations about amazing visual effects.

5) THE ENDING Stephen King himself has tried to distance himself from Kubrick’s film, citing many of the same reasons I’ve mentioned in this post. Nicholson’s Jack Torrance has almost no character arc whatsoever, and even the final sacrifice of “book” Jack is left out of the film. In the novel, Jack Torrance manages to fight off the evil spirits that have consumed him long enough to say goodbye to his son and allow him a chance to escape. He then smashes his own face in with a roque mallet, destroying himself but saving his son. In the film, Jack Nicholson’s character basically becomes Michael Myers, a maniac with an axe who gleefully attempts to murder his entire family. In the end, he gets lost in a hedge maze and freezes to death.

Where’s the sacrifice? Where are the last words of a broken man to his son? It’s as if Kubrick didn’t see Jack Torrance as a person with a conscience of his own, but merely as an empty receptacle for the evil spirits that inhabited the Overlook. So the ending consists of one drawn-out chase scene, complete with an idiotic woman who runs up the stairs when she should be running out the front door. Even in 1980 this was beginning to become a cliche. Kubrick had the opportunity to show his audiences a truly unique monster, the monster that lives within all of us waiting for the chance to take over. Instead, we were given yet another soulless psychopath. What a shame.

What are your thoughts? Are there any other film to book comparisons you’d like to see? Let me know in the comments!

Happy reading everyone!

Book Review: Night Film by Marisha Pessl (2013)

 Review #69

Beautiful and talented Ashley Cordova is found dead in an abandoned warehouse in New York City, apparently having thrown herself off the building. Investigative journalist Scott McGrath suspects that her death may not have been a suicide, and instead may be connected to her father, an enigmatic and reclusive director of cult-horror films. As Scott probes deeper into the Cordova family, he is drawn into a twisted and dangerous world that threatens his very sanity.

I absolutely love the way that author Marisha Pessl interspaces the main narrative with news articles, webpages, photographs, medical reports, and other things that Scott uncovers during his search for clues about Ashley Cordova’s life. It makes the story seem so much more visceral when a character is describing a dark web that revolves around the enigmatic director, only to follow it with screenshots of the webpage itself.

Night Film unfolds like series of Russian nesting dolls, with every clue that Scott uncovers raising more questions than it answers. Reading this novel felt like walking down an endless corridor lines with doors where every door only opens onto another corridor. It is a testament to Pessl’s writing style that she manages to keep her reader completely in the loop the entire time. She avoids the “gotcha” twist that too often defines the thriller genre, and instead chooses a slow and subtle approach to building tension.

I’m hesitant to explain much of the plot, since exploring and unraveling the mystery that is Ashley Cordova was such a fun experience. Early on, we are introduced to Ashley’s father, generally just referred to as Cordova, a mysterious director who produces films so terrifying that several of them have been banned. Underground screenings draw an eclectic crowd that worships Cordova for having awoken them to a higher state of understanding. As an avid fan of the horror genre, that only film that I could even partially equate with Cordova’s work would be Lars Von Triers’ Antichrist, also known as “The One Starring Willem Dafoe’s Penis”. That’s the only horror film I’ve seen in the past few years that made me feel truly uncomfortable. In Night Film, the movies made by Cordova are described in broad strokes, giving them an eerie, detached feeling that adds to the overall unease of the novel.

I read a lot of horror novels, some of them good, most of them mediocre. I would definitely place Night Film in the former category, as I was glued to the pages throughout the duration of the book.

My rating: 4.5/5

Note: As much as I adore my eReader, Night Film is a book better appreciated in print rather than digital.

You can find this novel here on Amazon or here on Book Depository.

Happy reading everyone!

 

Book vs Film: Ready Player One

 

Last week I sat down in my living room to watch Ready Player One. Twenty minutes in I was ready to throw in the towel, but decided to stick out the two-hour running time in the hopes that things might improve.

 

Things did not improve.

 

As soon as the credits rolled, I picked up my copy of Ernest Cline’s novel and began to read it for the third time in the hopes of scrubbing the events of the evening out of my mind. I began taking notes as I read, trying to pinpoint the exact reasons why I found myself so enraged by Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of the book. In no specific order, here are my thoughts on Ready Player One the film vs the novel. I would recommend either watching the film or reading the book before viewing this review. Spoilers abound.

1. It was like watching  a completely different story. Prior to watching, I had been told by several people that the movie was relatively enjoyable as long as you didn’t expect it to follow the book too closely. I took that to mean that there would be minor plot points that varied from the books in order to make the film flow a bit smoother. For example, in the Harry Potter films, it makes sense that they chose to omit certain characters and most of the Quidditch games; if they hadn’t every movie would be a long rambling mess. However, Spielberg seems to have taken the original source material for Cline’s novel, ripped out approximately thirty pages of it and used that to build his narrative. The heart of Ready Player One was completely lost in translation.

2. The opening scene did not instill me with confidence. During the exposition of the film, instead of a series of puzzles that require the characters to rely on their intelligence and problem-solving skills, we are treated to a twenty minute action sequence. There are giant dinosaurs, King Kong, and countless CGI explosions that must be navigated for the heroes in order to make it through the first gate. Right away, I could see that something had gone horribly wrong. The film leaves out the equal playing field that James Halliday set up for all the users of OASIS. In the novel, he placed the Copper Key on a planet where a) everyone had free and unlimited access to travel and b) violence was not permitted. This essentially meant that no matter how strong and high-ranking your avatar , the only thing that would allow you to reach the first key was your wit and your obsessive knowledge of obscure pop culture. In the film, all of that has been replaced with yet another generic car chase.

3. Spielberg missed the point of the Easter Egg hunt. Speaking of obscure pop culture, let’s talk about that. Ernest Cline’s novel delved so deeply into the realm of 1980’s music, television, film, and video games that one would need a submersible to follow after him. While reading the book, I found myself having to Google Japanese anime from the 1970’s. I had to familiarize myself with the fundamentals of text-based video games. When Wade or one of his fellow gunters finally solved one of the riddles, it was  genuinely impressive, because who the has the energy to devote their time and energy so completely to learning about this stuff? How many people can read a limerick and understand that it is referencing the limited edition cover of a thirty year old video game? In the novel, the difficulties that Parzival, Art3mis, and Aech face are actually difficult. When watching the film, all I saw was the growing trend of referencing things in a nostalgic way so that viewers will feel smart when they understand the references. Literally everyone watching the film knows the Tyrannosaurus from Jurassic Park. Or the Iron Giant. Or a DeLorean. There’s no challenge there. Spielberg dumbed down the pop culture references to the point where my six year old nephew could have found Halliday’s egg. It seems like he was so afraid of alienating any part of his audience, perhaps specifically the overseas audience, that he was unwilling to take even the smallest risk. Instead he chose to pander to the lowest common denominator.

4. He also missed the point of all the pop culture references. Let’s keep talking about pop culture. As I mentioned earlier, it takes a certain kind of individual to commit themselves so entirely towards one goal. In the novel, Parzival notes that he has seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail something like 178 times. He’s beaten every classic video game. He’s watched every episode of every season of every series that was even remotely popular in the 1980’s. Multiple times. Who does that? Answer – a person who has become mentally unhinged. What Ready Player One fails to truly depict is that the people searching for Halliday’s Egg are deeply unhealthy individuals. Outside of the OASIS, where your avatar can be as handsome, fit, and powerful as the you wish, the actual people are described as overweight, sallow, and anti-social. Ernest Cline’s novel can be seen as a cautionary tale against people living their entire lives in a virtual reality. The film does attempt to address this by having the main characters interact in the real world far sooner than in the book, but at the end of the day this is still Hollywood. Wade isn’t exactly a fashion model, but he’s reasonably healthy and good-looking, and does not seem to be crippled by the type of shyness that exists when you never interact with a person in a real environment. Same goes for the other characters. For a group of people who live their entire lives in isolation, they’re remarkably well-rounded.

5. He missed the point of the entire book. My biggest problem with Spielberg’s interpretation of Ready Player One is that the stakes just don’t seem that high. Parzival and his fellow gunters are searching for the egg so they can get rich. There’s also the situation with the “Sixers” who are trying to find the egg so that they can use the OASIS to make a lot of money by selling advertising space and charging fees for users. This is all very sad and capitalistic and greedy. But also, so what? It would be like if everyone who was currently online went to digital war over net neutrality. If we won, awesome. But if we lost, it’s shitty but it’s not the end of the world. The film fails to convey the novel’s premise that the global society we now know and enjoy has fallen apart. Global warming is causing widespread famine. The rural parts of America are lawless Mad Max style wastelands. People are being sold into indentured servitude for failing to pay their bills. And in the midst of all this poverty, hunger, and destitution is an escape from reality in the land of the OASIS. Not only that, but it offers free school for the entire nation. Let me repeat that. It offers free school for the entire nation. So in Cline’s novel when Parzival and the others explain that if the Sixers get the egg it will have a drastic and negative impact on society as a whole, we as readers understand the stakes. In the film it comes across more like a millennial wet dream of sticking it to the man. To be fair, Spielberg includes the scene where Sorrento and his cronies blow up Wade’s housing unit and kill hundreds of people. But the scene has absolutely zero emotional weight because not five minutes later we are introduced to Samantha and the resistance and no one stops for even a moment to grieve for the lives lost. The romantic subplot of the novel becomes the driving force of the film. Other significant deaths from the book are omitted entirely, which only underlines the fact that Spielberg was willing to take absolutely no risks with his nice, safe, family-friendly motion picture. The final battle has all the urgency and intensity of a boss-fight in a video game. It’s frustrating if you lose, but it’s not the end of the world.

6. On a lighter note… I’ve ragged a lot on the film, so I need to take just a second to talk about the few aspects that didn’t piss me off. The scene that took place in The Shining was visually amazing. Implausible, since Aech would most definitely have been aware of the the film’s plot-line, but it looked really cool. Crap, turns out I can’t even give a compliment without unintentionally back-handing it. The movie looked very…expensive? I did like the gravity-free dance sequence. Okay I give up.

A friend recommended Ready Player One to me a few years ago, and I became an overnight fan. The book is fun, inventive, smart, and exciting. When I heard that the film was going to be directed by Steven Spielberg, I immediately felt uneasy. To be honest, I haven’t trusted Spielberg or his artistic vision since he Crystal Skull-fucked the Indiana Jones series. So there was definitely an element of bias when I sat down to watch Ready Player One last week. At the same time, I did try to give it a fair shot. In the end, I was remarkably disappointed. I do not think I will be re-watching that film any time soon. And to anyone who hasn’t read it yet, I cannot recommend the novel highly enough.