Today, we're very happy to welcome Phoebe North, author of the upcoming young adult science fiction book, Starglass, to the blog. The novel, her debut work, is being published by Simon & Schuster and will be released on July 23rd of this year.  We're very excited to check it out for several reasons but most of all because Phoebe knows what's what in science fiction. Until recently, she was one half of Intergalactic Academy, a blog that was devoted to reviewing YA science fiction. She also contributes to YA Highway and Strange Horizons, and runs her own website. Plus, if we're in the cone of silence here, the three of us have been conversing with Phoebe about science fiction books on Goodreads for years. We asked her to write a guest post for us and she delivered by contributing another addition to our Book vs. Movie archives. She's comparing Starship Troopers, Robert Heinlein's popular military sci-fi book to its 1997 cinematic remake.  How will they stack up? 

I should preface this edition of Book vs. Movie with the disclaimer that I am not a fan of the novel Starship Troopers. I'm not even entirely sure I much like Robert Heinlein. I read Troopers for the first time last year, when my husband bought me a copy for our anniversary. Days later, I called out to him as I sat in the tub reading.

"Why did you want me to read this?" I asked, as I fought the urge to submerge the old paperback in grimy, soapy water. "It's terrible."

"I didn't think you'd like it," he replied. "I thought you might find it interesting."

To me, Starship Troopers's loathsome qualities are innumerable. Firstly, it's essentially a plotless bildungsroman, which would be fine if protagonist Johnny Rico were the least bit interesting. Instead, he's meant to be a sort of everyman Ur-soldier in this futuristic world where only military members are full citizens with voting rights.

(Defenders of Heinlein might object here that Heinlein said that citizens could complete civil service to gain voting rights, but that's not supported by the text.)

Characters in this military utopia--almost all men--act more like mouthpieces than actual characters. And they're mouthpieces for exceedingly conservative and now-outdated modes of thought. Dubois, Rico's military history instructor, lectures his students on the cause of juvenile delinquency: it's because no one spanks their kids anymore. 

After a long lecture scene--during which Dubois sneers at a "shrill" female student--Rico joins the military infantry despite his father's objections. His global military society is currently engaged in a war with extraterrestrial bugs. Sounds promising enough, but the next several dozen pages are spent in a lengthy, nostalgia-tinged reminiscence on basic training. The science fictional elements are thin; Heinlein infodumps on powered armor exoskeletons exactly once, but this is recounted with all the thrilling passion of an episode of Antiques Roadshow (though that might be underselling the suspense of Antiques Roadshow). Eventually, Rico's mother is killed, and Rico realizes that we really should be pre-emptively slaughtering our enemies. He fights the Bugs, of which we learn little about biology or society. The "narrative" (as it were) concludes with Rico as an officer and his father serving under him--having learned the foolishness of trying to deny his son his citizenship. (i.e. manhood)

So that's the novel. As a progressive ("shrill"?) peacenik feminist, I found little to like within its pages. The character of Rico was flat; the others were more like set pieces or author avatars, meant to allow Heinlein to posture at will. In truth, it felt like a particularly humorless military propaganda piece more than a novel, and the characters and world were so bland and underdeveloped that, in retrospect, I have no idea why this book has entered the SF canon.

Which brings us to the film. I once heard the 1997 film adaptation referred to as a "travesty" during a conference panel on military science fiction. If the original novel were one close to my heart, I could understand such an emotional reaction. It is certainly different from the novel--satirical, rather than earnest; aggressively campy, rather than infused with machismo.  Supposedly, the film adaptation began its life as an unrelated work; the novel, which director Paul Verhoevan claims to have never finished, was only optioned well into production.

While I agree with Verhoevan's declaration that Starship Troopers is both boring and depressing, I'm not sure I entirely buy this story. Because in certain ways, the film Starship Troopers is stunningly true to the book--particularly in terms of extrapolating how a society built on Heinlein's principles might appear to outsiders.

Starship Troopers (the film) is filled with hammy acting and ridiculous posturing. But I wouldn't quite call it a parody of Heinlein's work. It's most easily understood as an in-universe propaganda film. In fact, propaganda shorts are spliced into the larger narrative (which, as in the book, sees Johnny Rico go through training, lose his mother, and then go to war) to clue you in to the broader conceit. These propaganda shorts are hilarious:

What the story loses in exosuits (not present here), it gains in a winking self-awareness and a sense of humor. Heinlein's novel treats every aspect of his overly conservative, militaristic society with crushing gravity. While the characters in Verhoevan's film likewise view their situation earnestly, we (as viewers and outsiders) are allowed to view some aspects of this society as absurd.  And it is absurd--a world in which a military history professor would assert that  veterans "took control  and imposed a stability that has lasted for generations since" after "social scientists brought our world to the brink of chaos."

Those evil social scientists!

The film's also got a more meaningful and fully-fledged romantic subplot with a beginning, middle, and end. In Heinlein's novel, Carmen remains a cipher--representative of Rico's unattainable desires for sex and female companionship but never a character in her own right. Here, Carmen actually does stuff rather than acting representative of those mysterious and wily females.

The film also has Neil Patrick Harris.

So score one for Hollywood. Verhoevan's Starship Troopers takes a narrative framework that is slow, dull, pedantic, and propagandistic and turns it into an entertaining--if campy--satire of military propaganda itself. I must admit that there were several moments while reading Heinlein's work where his positions on military violence and citizenship were so outragous that I wondered if he could possibly be serious. Verhoevan seems to have decided that it really doesn't matter if he was. The most sensible framework for this story was, to him, and to me, one which points out the essential absurdity of it.

But what do I know? In the world of Starship Troopers, I wouldn't even be allowed to vote.

Thanks for the comparison, Phoebe! I (Flannery) have to give props to any person who can use a word in a blog post that I have to look up. (bildungsroman, for those who are wondering)  I tried to listen to Starship Troopers once on audiobook and I only made it through one disc before I gave up.  

Hayao Miyazaki’s production of Howl’s Moving Castle is the movie that I most frequently list as my favorite movie of all time.  So, I admit that I was terribly nervous to read this book.  There’s a reason our six star rating is subtitled “Inconceivable!” – how often does a movie production actually surpass the book?  No, more often than not, the book will blow any film attempt out of the water.  And I admit that I really didn’t want this movie to be ruined for me, even by a book that I would probably love. 

Well, guess what?  That’s exactly what happened.  And I can’t even be sorry about it because Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is now one of my favorite books of all time.  Sorry movie; I still adore you and all but you’re just not the same.  While the movie does a great job with some aspects of the book and does, in my opinion, capture the overall flavor of the story, it really misses the mark in some key areas.  

As the book opens, we are introduced to Sophie and her family.  Sophie is the eldest of three, which in this universe means that she will be doomed to poor prospects.  All of her parents’ (her father and not-so-wicked stepmother's) hopes are placed on the shoulders of the youngest sister, Martha.  The middle sister, Lettie, is a strong-willed girl who likes to get her own way.  

When Sophie’s father dies unexpectedly, her stepmother realizes that she will not be able to support them all.  Sophie’s sisters are sent out to apprentice at a bakery (Lettie) and with a witch (Martha).  Sophie is left to apprentice in the hat shop.  Resigned to her fate, she works day and night designing and building hats, becoming more and more isolated and fretful.  It gets so bad that she’s afraid to even visit her sister down the street.  She also develops a rather kooky habit of speaking to the hats she’s building.

The movie condenses Sophie’s sisters down to one – Lettie – who works in a bakery.  Sophie’s mother runs the hat shop and Sophie’s father is simply not present.  While I think the movie excellently portrays Sophie’s isolation and dreariness, it fails to capture the extent of her fear and she’s never, not once, shown speaking to a hat.  Which is a damn shame.

In the book, Sophie finally gets up the courage to visit her sister, but ends up heading out on May Day, amidst a riot of celebration and flirting.  Halfway there, she runs into a striking looking man with a silver and blue suit, white-blond hair, and eyes like green marbles.  She’s jumpy and he teases her a bit for being afraid, calling her a mouse and saying that the only wished to take her out for a drink.  Ultimately, he wishes her well and leaves her be.  The movie follows this same basic path, except that instead, Sophie is set upon in an alley by two smarmy officers who are very much into rape-flirting.  Howl (the striking looking man, of course!) comes along to rescue her from them.  Then they escape some giant black blob-men by flying through the sky.  Which is a tad…different.

When Sophie reaches the bakery, she finds out that her sisters Martha and Lettie have used a magic spell (learned from Martha’s apprenticeship) to switch places.  Martha is now quite a hit at the bakery, where she has already received dozens of proposals and Lettie is finally being challenged as a magician’s apprentice.  Martha tells Sophie plainly that she believes her stepmother is taking advantage of her.  Sophie seems to have some sort of talent for fashion, and her stepmother is constantly away “gadding” while Sophie is left in the shop.  She doesn’t even earn a wage.  Stunned by this revelation, Sophie leaves, intending to confront her stepmother.

All of this is really played down in the film.  “Lettie” – Sophie’s one sister simply says “do something for yourself once in a while, okay?” as she’s leaving.  The mom is never mentioned.

Back at the shop, Sophie feels more and more discontent.  She snarks hilariously at customers and grumbles when her stepmother promises her a wage but then forgets all about it.  Just when she’s about had enough, a “carefully beautiful,” glamorous patron enters and demands to see her hats.  This elegant lady is, of course, The Witch of The Waste.  (Dun dun dun!!!)

In the movie TWoTW does look rather…imposing…I guess, but it must be said that she also looks like a complete freak show.  Observe:

In either case, the result is the same.  Sophie gets cursed by TWoTW and suddenly she’s been aged by about seventy years.  She’s ancient.  But, instead of getting upset about it, Sophie decides to locate her heretofore hidden giant cojones and set out into the world immediately to seek her fortune and give that witch what’s coming to her.  The movie basically captures this, but Sophie is shown fretting about her decision to leave quite a bit more and putting it off until the morning.  Sophie’s journey toward her destiny is also a bit different, which brings me to the first MAJOR CHANGE.

MAJOR CHANGE #1: Sophie's Character

Sophie as a character has a completely different feel between the book and the movie.  Sophie of the book is a complete badass who tells it like it is but also has a tendency to avoid her problems by indulging in a little angry-cleaning.  She’s stubborn to a fault, nosy, and she tends to hide her vulnerability behind a wall of irritation.  In the movie, she feels more emotional, more considerate, and more child-like almost.  In the book she also (it is later revealed) has a very strong magical ability.  When she speaks to everyday objects, like her hats, she influences them magically with her words.  

In the book, Sophie pulls a scarecrow out of a hedge and helps free a trapped dog on her way to seek her fortune.  She accidentally speaks the scarecrow to life and it follows her.  Sophie is completely repulsed/scared of the scarecrow and repeatedly does everything she can to get away from it in the book.  In the movie, the scarecrow is already alive.  It brings her a walking stick and leads her to Howl’s castle.  She gives it a nickname (“turnip-head”) and seems quite content in its presence.

Once Sophie finds the castle, she has to run after it, force her way in, and then engage in a little trickery to convince Howl’s fifteen year old apprentice, Michael, to let her stay the night.  In the movie, the castle stops, lets her in right away, and Michael is nowhere to be seen.  The next day he appears, although in the movie he’s a nine year old boy named Markl (seriously...).  In both cases, Sophie speaks with Calcifer, Howl’s fire demon and agrees to a deal: she’ll help him break his contract with Howl if he helps remove her curse.  Sophie pretends to be Howl’s new housekeeper and cleans the heck out of that pigsty, including Howl's much-used bathroom, which leads to the most hilarious scene in both the book and the movie.

Oh yes, I think that lovers of this story in either of its forms will know exactly what I am talking about: THE TANTRUM.  In both the book and the movie, Sophie mixes up Howl's beautification potions somehow and he ends up dyeing his hair a different color than usual.  Emotional breakdown ensues.  They actually do a very good job of showing this in the movie, complete with howling ghouls, screaming, and green slime.  However, in the book it's even funnier because Howl's hair doesn't get turned black (as in the film) - it merely has a few added reddish/gold strands.  And yet, green slime.  Sophie of the book is a lot less emotional about it.  She doesn't cry; she merely leaves until he settles down and then stomps back in to shunt him into the bathtub and call him a big baby.  In the book she sheds a few tears for her hurt feelings and then essentially does the same thing. 

Which brings me to MAJOR CHANGE #2: Howl Loves War, Not Girls
First, let's just get this whole "war" business out of the way: never happened.  That's right, in the book there is no crazy war going on, fought by winged blob men and questionably aerodynamic buzzing ships.  That whole part was manufactured just for the movie.  And let's be honest, it doesn't even really fit in the movie.  

So, in the book, Howl is constantly busy either primping himself or taking up his guitar to go woo various girls across the country.  His main goal in life is to avoid all decision-making and responsibility of any kind.  Whenever one of his ladies starts to return his "love" he immediately tucks tail and runs.  In the movie, he's constantly busy as well...with the war.  Some girls gossip at the beginning that he likes to "eat young girls' hearts" and he mentions later that he once pursued TWoTW, but he's definitely not the flirty drama queen that I know and love from the book.  Again, this is a damn shame.

One thing that I thought they did very well in the movie was the visual of Howl's front door.  In the book it has a dial which can be turned so that the door opens up on different areas of the kingdom and they show this very well in the movie.  However, there is one MAJOR CHANGE here.

MAJOR CHANGE #3: Howl's Hideaway
In the movie, the black section of the dial opens up into what looks like a giant space filled with smoke, fire, and blackness into which Howl flies (ostensibly to go fight that damn war some more).  In the book, it opens up to an inch of indescribable black-ish thickness, which then leads to...WALES.  Yes, Wales.  As in, modern day (1980's) has computers and cars and suburbs...Wales.  It turns out that our man Howl is actually Howell, a modern day Welshman who somehow found the door between worlds and left his old life to study magic in Sophie's realm.  Pretty neat, huh?  This is all totally cut from the movie.

Another thing that I love about the movie is how the animators visually represent both Howl's descent into evil and Sophie's gradual breaking of her curse.  In the movie, Howl is shown changing into a giant black bird over and over again when he fights, and is eventually unable to turn back.  While this doesn't happen in the book at all, I thought it was a really interesting way to show him losing the fight against his curse (more on the curse later).  Likewise, the animated Sophie is shown throughout the film changing subtly from old to young and back again depending on her mood.  This also does not happen in the book, but it's an ingenious way to show that she's fighting against her curse.

And now, for MAJOR CHANGE #4: The Curse.  
In the book, Howl once caught a falling star, gave it his heart, and joined in a contract with it for more powerful magic.  That star was Calcifer.  This is essentially the same in the movie, except that the bigger picture surrounding this story has been completely changed.  Howl of the book was actually cursed to complete this task (along with a long list of other things inspired by a John Donne poem) by TWoTW.  See, in the book, she is what's known as the BIG BAD.  She and her fire demon have been gunning for Howl ever since he dumped her way back when.  In the movie, TWoTW does attempt to curse Howl but he easily deflects it.  She later loses all of her magic to the movie's big bad (with an assist from some giant light bulbs and harmonizing shadows) and is reduced, by the end of the film, to a rather pillowy-looking grandmother figure.

MAJOR CHANGE #5: The Big Bad Now Loves Mob Caps
With TWoTW stripped of her big bad status, the movie replaces her with this gal to the left.  She's the King's wizard, named Suliman.  In the book, there is a character called Ben Suliman who is the King's wizard, but he's:
a) a man
b) not evil and
c) missing
He's also, coincidentally, also from Wales and is really named Ben Sullivan. Suliman from the movie seems in part a fabrication and in part stolen from another character in the book: Mrs. Pentstemmon, Howl's old tutor (who is also not evil in any way, and is actually murdered by TWoTW in the book). And now that the MAJOR CHANGES are coming fast and furious, I'll just move on to 

MAJOR CHANGE #6: This is the One Where I Throw Together All the Random Things That Happen in the End.
So, it turns out that TWoTW's eeeeevil plan was to kidnap both Wizard Suliman, the King's son Justin, and Howl and stitch together all of her favorite parts from each of them to create her perfect mate.  Naturally, she has been waiting for Howl's pretty face to be the head.  The spare/leftover parts she combined into the scarecrow, a skull, and a man who can change into a dog (this is the kind of logic that only makes sense to a true BIG BAD).  Howl does battle with TWoTW and her fire demon while Sophie figures out the curse and eventually transfers Howl's heart back into his body.  Sophie's family reappears, the various body parts get magically put back together the right way, and Calcifer breaks Sophie's curse.  And then Howl and Sophie decide to live happily ever after.  Awwww.

In the movie, Sophie breaks Howl's contract with Calcifer by reinserting his heart, the "big bad" suddenly decides to stop with the warring (pffft, some big bad), and this scene happens:

which, honestly...I never thought I'd stop loving.  I mean, what could ever, ever beat this?

“Wow, Sophie your hair looks just like starlight.  It’s beautiful!”
Do you think so?  So do I!”

Unfortunately, this is yet another scene that Diana Wynne Jones' wonderful, horrible book stole from me.  Observe:

“‘Would you call your hair ginger?’

‘Red Gold,’ Sophie said.  Not much had changed about Howl that she could see, now he had his heart back, except maybe that his eyes seemed a deeper color – more like eyes and less like glass marbles.  ‘Unlike some people’s,’ she said, ‘it’s natural.’

‘I’ve never seen why people put such value on things being natural,’ Howl said, and Sophie knew then that he was scarcely changed at all.”

Sigh...now that's what I call romance.

I know that this is still a pretty positive rating for the movie, but it still pains me a bit to give this adaptation:

I remembered very little about this book before I reread it for this blog post and I'd never seen the movie. As far as Roald Dahl books go, even though I enjoyed it, James and the Giant Peach is not among my favorites. Talking animals (or bugs) are just not my bag, though I know a lot of people who love them. (maybe even a coblogger of mine) As usual, I watched the movie directly after the book. After doing so, I am so tempted to just write, "No. Just no." and call it a post written. Because of all the fantastical elements of the book, I understand and applaud the moviemakers for choosing to use claymation for portions of the film. The colors used in the movie are beautiful--it seems such a weird thing to compliment, a nice color palette--and I did enjoy the way the movie was filmed. Also, you must know that I am grasping for things that I enjoyed when I am complimenting the colors in the film, no matter how truthful my statement is. There was just more disappointment than entertainment in this movie for me to enjoy it.

Problem #1: Kill 'Em Dead

In the book, kickin' it Dahl style, James' awful aunts, Sponge and Spiker are killed when the gigantic rolling peach flattens them into the ground. Suitably comical way to die for a children's book. In the movie, they are inside a car when the peach rolls over them and they appear in the ending. I was happy that the movie didn't  tone down the extent of their cruelty but why aren't they dead? Not that I personally need it to be very dark, but it is more true to Dahl's book, so why not just kill them off? At the end of the movie, the aunts come after him in New York to exert their power over him and all the people/insects end up capturing the aunts, tying them up, and unmentioned wigs fall off their heads. I suppose the filmmakers wanted the primary villains to run throughout the film.

Problem #2: New York, New Yoooooork 

James and his friends are on a magical adventure in the book and New York is a surprise destination--they don't know where they are until they get there. I've thought about this one for a while and I don't see why the filmmakers had to run the whole dream of New York through the movie. In the beginning of the film, as in the book, James and his parents are living an idyllic life.  There is a similar scene where James is shown having a day holiday at the beach with his parents. However, in the movie, they introduce an analysis of clouds, one of which looks like the Empire State Building and James' father gives him a brochure of NYC to set up his dream of going there. Then his parents get mauled by a runaway rhino, you know, as you do. (at least in a Roald Dahl book) So many of Dahl's books are about horrible people getting their comeuppance and about escaping terrible realities. (or terrible possibilities) I didn't like that the whole movie became about getting to New York. The book gives a feeling of mental escape from James' horrible guardians who mistreat him. The movie is more like a running away story.

Problem #3: If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It (OR DELETE IT!)

Claymation gives you lots of opportunities to create fantastical scenes. For example, if there is a cool scene in the book where the insects and James are attacked by a huge school of sharks, it might be cool to include that in the movie. Or not. Instead, the film features a single mechanical shark that shoots harpoons into the peach.

Or maybe the entire section of the voyage where James and his friends fly up into the clouds and realize that cloud-men are making hailstones, Centipede hassles them, there is a snowball fight, and then the characters literally crash through a rainbow. This would be cool to see, right? Well it isn't in the movie. Instead, there is an underwater scene (I know this whole movie is fiction but seriously, bugs underwater?) with pirates, a search for a compass, and Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas. (not kidding) Why not just leave the cool scene as it was? It sounds horrible to say but it really made me wonder if they'd already had a bunch of clay Jack Skellingtons around the studio and decided to save money by using his character instead of making the ones from the book.

I totally understand a few of the changes. For example, in the movie the peach rolls over a fence which remains around the outside for the duration. It allowed for a change of scenery and for more action to take place outside of the peach. Also, the number of birds it takes to hoist the peach in the air doesn't seem like as many as described/pictured in the book but I wouldn't want to make that many claymation birds, thus, totally understandable.

Problem #4: Centipede is a Newsie

There are several different illustrated versions of the book so I'm not sure if I can generalize or not but in the version I was reading the insects were just that--large insects. No clothes and no crazy accents. In the movie, each bug has their own clothing and some have accents and magically, Centipede has turned into a Brooklyn-accented, cigar-smoking, Newsie from the 1930s. Go ahead and imagine what Newsies would've been like with a claymation centipede in the role Christian Bale played.* And while we are on the topic of musicals, this movie is only about an hour long and kids love songs so I see why some songs might've been necessary, however I don't remember any of them now (a few hours after watching the movie), they were not part of the book (though there were some songs that Centipede sang), and Randy Newman is involved in several of them. (personal preference alert) I might be wrong on this account, but it did not even sound like the lyrics to the songs were the ones from the book.  

*Note: James and the Giant Peach has a higher rating on IMDB than Newsies does. Pssht, yeah right.

Problem #5: My Own Personal Nightmares

Another weird moment from the insects came from Spider acting very maternal to James and wrapping him in her web to go to sleep. Thanks, James and the Giant Peach, for putting a visual to an ultimate nightmare of mine. Especially when it isn't in the book. 

There were a few aspects of the movie that I did enjoy. Though the actor who plays James seems to have some sort of weird accent/lisp-thing going on, he looks perfect for the part, and the claymation version of him is adorable. Like I said earlier, the visual aspect of the movie (except for the crazy nightmare part) was beautiful and I like that the film retained the dark tone of the book.  

There are very few actual actors in the movie, but I was ecstatic to find one of my favorite actors cast as the magical man who gives James the crocodile tongues. (that is how the giant peach is created) Pete Postlethwaite was such an underrated actor. (you might recognize him as Kobayashi from The Usual Suspects) The actresses who play Sponge and Spiker are similarly perfect. I should've added Spiker's teeth to the list of my personal nightmares.

When James and his friends get to New York, the peach lands on the tip of the Empire State Building.  In the book, it is just an impetus for James and his insect buddies to achieve the dreams they've hoped for--the silkworm spinning silk, the centipede becoming a runner, etc. The movie does allow for this to happen, but it mostly occurs as a series of newspaper clippings that run during the credits. Instead, the great hurrah at the end is about the aforementioned should-be-dead aunts coming after him in New York. A policeman and the crowd listen to James' story of his adventures and they realize that the aunt have treated him poorly, so his aunts end up being wrapped in insect silk and hung from a crane. (not hanged, just hung) James then lives in the peach pit in Central Park, as in the book. Though I was happy with that one aspect of the ending, I wanted to see the visualization of each of his insect friends finding their niches in America. What a missed opportunity. I'm really glad they included that random pirate scene. Not.

Honestly, I never want to see this movie again. It is not a terrible movie and if someone was unfamiliar with the book, I daresay that it would be quite enjoyable. However, there were so many unnecessary changes made to an already magical plot that the primary emotion I felt while watching was disdain. I will read the book anytime I have a hankering for James and the Giant Peach. And if you are interested in the story, pick one or the other. 

Today, we're happy to welcome brilliant librarian/blogger Kelly Jensen from Stacked for a Book vs. Movie comparison of Breakfast at Tiffany's. Take it away, Kelly...

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I can properly talk about how great it was to read Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote then follow it up with a screening of the film. 

The premise of Capote’s 1958 novella is exceedingly simple. The nameless narrator, a young male writer, receives a phone call from a former friend, and it’s through reconnecting with the former friend wherein the narrator realizes what a great story he has to tell about Holly Golightly, the girl who had been his neighbor just a few years prior. Breakfast at Tiffany’s is a roughly 100-page character sketch about a girl who talks a big game but who is at her core exceptionally sad, lonely, and empty. Golightly likes to spend her time around socialites, around money, and she throws parties with the best of them. Her apartment lacks furnishing, and the only thing she keeps close to her is her cat. Each time the narrator attempts to forge communication with her and tries to get to her to open up, he is thwarted. Which is not to say he’s a hero in the story - he’s not. He pushes her too hard and he cares far too much about a girl who does not wish for that sort of relationship. 

Nineteen-year-old Golightly is a complex character. She presents herself as anything by throwing these parties, by associating herself with wealth and luxury and fascination with little things. She does it even further through her job, which can best be described as a liaison among a bunch of men who are into drugs. Yes, there’s an air of intrigue about her, but she presents herself as simplistic because it is easiest. It’s the narrator who chips away at this facade though, as he continually pushes her to talk with him. To let him inside the cage she’s built for herself. 

See, Golightly has built this world around her so she can distance herself not just from other people but so that she can distance herself from her worst enemy - herself. Her life. Where it looked like she was treating everyone around her as worthless, as artifice and throwaway, what the narrator learns about Golightly was that she was really treating herself as such. It was just easier to project upon those around her. This comes full circle with the story of the cat, Golightly’s one true possession. When she’s preparing to leave New York City, to leave the past she’s already ditched elsewhere, to leave the former marriage and children and responsibilities that show up to remind her that she is worth something to other people and to herself, Golightly dumps the cat in Spanish Harlem. Tells the cat it was a great run but no one belongs to anyone else and so now he has the chance to start fresh. 

Just like her.

Capote’s novella is a character sketch, but it’s not just a character sketch of Golightly, but of the writer. The narrator is a writer, yet somehow Capote is able to take the narrator and make him a commentary on writing and on narration as craft, too. Here’s a character writing about a pained, removed, relationship-avoiding girl and as much as he tries to crack her open, she is beyond his control. As much as he wants to have a relationship with her and allow her to see her value and worth and her autonomy and her ability to be cared for and treated with respect, he is only the writer. He can only do so much for her. He can sprinkle his depiction of her with pretty words and descriptions - and this is a huge strength of the novella - but ultimately, Golightly is a character who has to play out her story the way her story is meant to be played out. He can only direct her so far. The rest is up to her... and to the reader. 

In other words, Capote’s given us the writer’s experience with writing. With creating a character and a back story and a world. Then he lets it go. What’s masterful about how he does this is that he himself is never the actual narrator in the story -- he’s not the one writing Golightly’s story. He’s writing the story of the narrator who is then writing Golightly’s story. 

It’s meta!  

In 1961, George Axelrod took a stab at taking Capote’s character sketch and turning it into a film starring Audrey Hepburn as a much-aged-past-19 Holly Golightly; blue-eyed George Peppard as the flawless and swoon-worthy narrator, now named Paul; Patricia Neal as the woman who is Peppard’s “keeper” (yeah I don’t know either); Mickey Rooney as Mr. Yunioshi; and most noteworthy 

Putney, who played the role of Cat.

As is the case with the bulk of film adaptations, Axelrod made the story his own. He borrowed a bit from the source material, but he made this story his own. Which makes sense because Capote didn’t write a story -- he wrote a character writing a character. 

In this adaptation of the story, Paul (who Golightly calls Fred throughout because he reminds her of her “brother” Fred) meets Golightly near immediately. There’s not a passage of time, but rather, he runs into her as he moves into the apartment complex where she dwells. Paul is a writer, but he’s not writing Golightly’s story in the film; rather, he’s writing “novels” and “other things.” He’s also a kept man. And boy, who wouldn’t want to keep a man like that? He’s dreamy. Whenever he bats his eyes, the angels sing and the world opens up and all women just flock to him. Neal is really lucky in her role as his keeper - she has him on a leash. He’s all hers. I want it noted right now that Hepburn and Neal are only three years apart in age but boy, did Axelrod play up an age difference.  

We can agree though that Hepburn is definitely not playing a 19-year-old in the movie. 

The film itself is not told through Paul’s point of view. We get a story about Paul. But really, that doesn’t matter; what does matter is that Golightly is the object of Paul’s affection. Because he’s so dreamy, he can just chase what it is he wants. Oh and does he try. He attends Golightly’s parties - where she is certainly engaged in the crowd, enamored with the wealth and glory that rubbing elbows with socialites brings - and he tells her on more than one occasion just how much he loves her and cares about her. He doesn’t want her to have the autonomy to chase the money (err... men) she wishes to. He keeps reminding her that, you know, there’s a really attractive man living right beneath your nose you can have. 

Lucky for Paul, after enough pushing, Golightly changes her mind. She was wrong all along, silly girl. Maybe he was right for her and maybe he did know what was best for her.  

I jumped ahead, I know. We do get to know some of Golightly’s back story in the film. However, it’s secondary. It’s hardly even a blip on developing her character at all. It’s sort of shoved in the middle of the film that Golightly was a married woman who fled her family and that Paul’s meant to be the messenger about her much older husband being back to retrieve her and remind her that he loves her and that people back home depend upon her. It’s also sort of shoved in there that she feels lost and lonely and like her life is meaningless.

Actually, no it’s not at all. 

At the very beginning of the film, I felt like Hepburn was really channeling Capote’s character. There’s a genuine listlessness, and she plays it so well. But the minute Paul enters her life and starts to be the Man She Needs, suddenly Hepburn’s portrayal of the sad and lonely Golightly changes. (See what happens when the writer inserts himself in the character?)

During the pivotal party scene, where her apartment is littered with rich people and things, Golightly engages with her fellow attendees, and she’s an active part of the festivities. 

The moment when Hepburn cuts ties with “brother” Fred and the life she left before moving to NYC, the emotions ring false. And while this is a clear moment of portraying just how phony she’s become (paging Holden Caulfield), the inconsistency with her character up to this point and the lack of development of this pretty important back story, Hepburn failed to advance her character. We know she’s going to run to Paul, and it was impossible for me to not sigh after this scene because after Fred leaves, Golightly gets drunk and becomes Manic Pixie Dream Girl (MPDG). She transforms! She’s free from her past! She’s attractive! Watch her sparkle!

She never feeds her damn cat when he is hungry! DID SHE NOT HEAR HIM MEOWING? ALL HE WANTED WAS SOME FOOD! 

So after this transformation, when Golightly and Paul have their day - the one day that is the iconic piece of what people remember of the film and where she goes to Tiffany’s and lusts after finer things which isn’t really what Capote meant by the whole thing in the book - she’s not at all removed from the situation. She is fully invested in the story and in her life. Hepburn doesn’t portray her as playing along reluctantly; she’s not playing at all. She’s living and engaging. She’s playing the customers and management at the dime store where they steal the masks from. This girl isn’t sad or removed from herself or her life. She’s been shown the way by a pair of baby blue eyes. 

Thank god.

I could go on about the ending and about how it’s the happily ever after that gets a crowd going and leaves viewers with a sense of hope about love. But it was so disingenuous to not just Capote’s story, but to the characters, too. Golightly goes from being the kind of character Capote envisioned into what it is society thinks that a woman should be. Or maybe that’s not fair - she becomes the romanticized idealized MPDG to Paul. And that he gets her to bend to his will and succumb to the realization that yeah, he was the love of her life and that she needs him? Man I love a satisfying ending like that. Particularly when it’s so true, that indeed, Golightly IS a woman who can be caged and protected by someone like Paul.

Wait, what?

This is the total opposite of what Capote intended. TOTAL. OPPOSITE. His story ends by suggesting that no character can be colored by happily ever after, and yet, Axelrod has taken the story and done nothing but make it a happily ever after. He’s corralled the character who couldn’t be corralled. Which -- if you’re a screenwriter making an adaptation of a film, you have total control over storylines and melding it to be your own vision. But to take a storyline and drop it entirely on its head? Why then have a source material at all? 

Let’s talk about a couple other minor quibbles I have: what about the amazing portrayal of the exotic in the film? It makes sense because Golightly is trying to be a socialite and an elite member of the NYC world that she would want to surround herself with Asians, with Brazilians, and she’d want to spend time at a dance club where she could then watch something foreign before her. But what the hell was this Mickey Rooney character? 

A racist. That’s what. 

This was incredibly uncomfortable to watch, and not just because it was sheerly racist. While the story took place in a time where that kind of portrayal might have been acceptable in society, the fact is, Mr. Yunioshi in the book is NOT the stereotypical Asian as he’s made to be in the film. In fact, he plays a bit of a bigger role in the book in that he tries, too, to engage with Golightly. He isn’t some insensitive neighbor working to bust up her fun - he actually wants her to, you know, live. 

That he’s then just a throw away stereotype in the film is unfortunate. 

There’s terrible pacing in the movie, and there’s an odd jump in passage of time that happens near the end, where we don’t know what had happened to Paul nor what happened to Golightly. But we know that Golightly is happy and is going to get married and Paul won’t let that happen. Blah blah blah, then they are together. Time apart only made their feelings stronger, you know. 

Most importantly, I think what Axelrod’s film could have done with is much more Cat and much less Hep. Because did you see the acting by Cat? It was great! Not just the acting was impeccable, but the fact he was so horribly mistreated by Hepburn also merits some applause.  

That cat does not look happy. And that’s more authentic emotion right there than is shown throughout the rest of the film.

Then there is this moment in the film, and I let it speak for itself: 

Now that you’ve endured my lengthy critique of Axelrod’s adaptation of Capote’s work, I hope it’s obvious that these aren’t the same story, not even a little bit. Maybe Axelrod had hoped to take this character and give her a story and play around with the notion of the writer and the lives his characters can take when left to do so. But Axelrod didn’t do that. He told an entirely different story, and he kept a tight leash on his characters and how they were allowed to move and think and feel. And those things all fell into predictable and ugh-worthy tropes. 

Does that mean Breakfast at Tiffany’s is a bad movie? No. 

Does that mean Breakfast at Tiffany’s is not worth watching? No. 

Does that mean Breakfast at Tiffany’s is a horrific adaptation that has nothing to do with the book and in fact contradicts the entire point of the book? Yep.

Even Capote thought the adaptation was pretty awful. According to Turner Classic Movies, this was his reaction: 

"Even though Breakfast at Tiffany's was a success and nominated for five Academy Awards, the one person who was not happy with the film was author Truman Capote. He was outspoken in his disapproval of what had been done with his book. He was unhappy with everything: the tone, the casting, the director. He felt betrayed by Paramount. 'I had lots of offers for that book, from practically everybody,' he said, 'and I sold it to this group at Paramount because they promised things, they made a list of everything, and they didn't keep a single one.' Capote was unhappy with the casting. 'It was the most miscast film I've ever seen,' he said. 'Holly Golightly was real-a tough character, not an Audrey Hepburn type at all. The film became a mawkish valentine to New York City and Holly, and, as a result, was thin and pretty, whereas it should have been rich and ugly. It bore as much resemblance to my work as the Rockettes do to Ulanova.'

After the release of the film version of Breakfast at Tiffany's, author Truman Capote was very vocal about his disdain for the film, and especially the casting of Audrey Hepburn as Holly, a role that he hoped would go to his friend, Marilyn Monroe.

Truman Capote later said that he considered actress Jodie Foster the perfect person to play Holly Golightly as he originally wrote her."  

Yeah, you know? Jodie Foster as Holly Golightly would have been THE RIGHT CHOICE. Not the light-on-her-feet, MPDG-playing Hepburn. And it’s not simply that she wasn’t the right choice for Golightly. It’s that her acting wasn’t even GOOD. It was inconsistent all over the place. Whether it’s her fault or Axelrod’s, she didn’t understand the character and that shines through in spades.

Okay, so. If you want a fantastic character sketch that showcases the furthest thing from a MPDG as possible, pick up Capote’s novella. It is dark, complicated, and utterly satisfying to think about. If you want a love story, watch Axelrod’s film. Just do not connect the two.
To round out this post, I’d like to remind you about this:  

I think this might be the faithful adaptation of Capote’s book. If it were set in the 90s, with bad hair, bad fashion, and way-too-catchy lyrics.  

Final Rating: 

Well, it certainly sounds like someone else felt the same way about this movie that I did. I'm of the opinion once is enough. And I'm so glad someone finally had the guts to give Putney the cat the kudos he so richly deserved. Including that song which shall not be named was really uncalled for though.  But I suppose it couldn't be helped.

What do you all think? Have you read the book?  And what the heck was Mickey Rooney thinking with that?

Thanks for visiting, Kelly! Don't forget to visit her at her usual blogspace, Stacked and on twitter.

Of the movies I've written about for this feature thus far, this is the first one for which I listened to the entire director's commentary while looking at the changes. Rob Reiner's discussion of the film is just wonderful. It is a combination of talking about the film and a trip down memory lane for him as he talks about various things he added in from his own childhood and how making Stand By Me felt like a coming-of-age for him as a director, one towards doing projects he was passionate about.  He said that every actor that is in the movie was basically the only actor who came through auditions who could've played that particular part, which I can believe. The only actor who was a later addition was Richard Dreyfus, who went to high school with Reiner, as the narrator.  (the source for all of these comments is, obviously, Reiner's director's commentary) Interestingly, Reiner spoke about how Corey Feldman was the only child actor of that age who could harbor the anger that Teddy Duchamp has in the book. I totally agree with him on that note, though several of the other characterizations have changed somewhat from the book to the film.  Vern Tessio's (Jerry O'Connell) childhood pudginess adds a few chuckles to the film but he wasn't overweight in the book and he had a full head of hair and bad teeth. ("I brought the comb!" was invented for the film) And though they mention Teddy's father put his ear to a burner in the movie, the book finds him with further ear damage and a hearing aid which are not present in the film. King writes, "In spite of the glasses and the flesh-colored button always screwed into his ear, Teddy couldn't see very well and often misunderstood the things people said to him." (loc. 5540) At first I thought that this bit of misunderstanding was just transferred to Vern's character in the movie. After all, one of my favorite parts of the movie is the moment after the Lard Ass Hogan pie-eating contest story, when Vern inquires whether Hogan paid to get into the contest.  Vern's character adds much more comic relief to the film than he does in the book--in the book it is actually him who suggests that going to see a dead body "shouldn't be a party."  

The group of four boys is perfect in the movie. They have a few more friends in the novella but they are just mentioned in side stories and they don't come with them to find Ray Brower's body so their absence from the film is natural. In The Body, the heat of the summer is stifling and everyone is sweating. The entire journey is made shirtless by all, and I'm sure no one wanted to film an entire movie where everyone was drenched with sweat the whole time, however realistic it might be. John Cusack's acting always made me ache for Gordie's loss of someone who was so supportive of him. I've always felt that you could see all the emotions on Wil Wheaton's face and the flashback memories of his brother combined with Wheaton's vacant look convey so much. 

When I hear anyone trivialize Stephen King's writing or scoff at genre fiction, it makes me sad. Exhibit A: 

The screenplay, which was nominated for an Academy Award, lifts conversations and jokes straight from the novella, which I appreciated in The Shawshank Redemption and I appreciate here--King's writing just makes screenwriters' jobs easier in that respect. (though a challenge overall, I'm sure) The scene with the gun in the alley, the jokes in the treehouse ("How do you know when a Frenchman's been in your backyard? Well, your garbage cans are empty and your dog is pregnant."), and Vern's digging for pennies under the porch are all strictly from the novella. In reference to the quote above, the narrator of the novella talks about Gordie seeing the doe on the last morning of their trip, just as he does in the movie, and how that is his favorite memory from the trip because it was so perfect and clean and how it is "hard to make strangers care about the good things in your life." (Loc. 7510) This really resonated with me. Then again, I spend at least a solid minute a day staring at the sky through the evergreen trees in my yard.

The most jarring differences I noticed while reading were that Gordie's brother died in a military jeep accident whereas he died in a car accident in the movie, there is a short story included in the novella that I am so happy they left out of the film, there is a scene where all the boys think they see the ghost of Ray Brower in the woods, and the ending is different. (I'll go into that in a second) At first, I thought there was something wrong with my ebook because the aforementioned short story is more adult than much of the film. "Stud City" is a fairly graphic story written by the narrator (Gordon Lachance) when he was in college, and describes a young man devirginizing a girl and then arguing with his father and stepmother. The story is included to show the immaturity of some of the narrator's early published writing and how he integrated the feelings and effects of his brother's death into his writing. King's books are often set in Maine, but Stand By Me was moved to small-town Oregon. I don't find this change to have any detrimental effect to the film, as the feelings of nostalgia and remembering childhood friendships are going to happen no matter where the story is set. (plus, having been to both places, rural Oregon and rural Maine look pretty similar) I always assumed Gordie's nightmare on that final night was about the death of his brother but the novella has his character dreaming about he and his friends drowning after a conversation he had with Chris about how your friends can sink your future. And I think we can all thank some higher power (or the universe) that they did not include the leech on Gordie's testicles exploding in his hand in the movie. Some things can never be unseen.

Rob Reiner states in the director's commentary of the DVD that they were unsure what they would call the movie but they knew they wanted to use Ben E. King's song in the soundtrack. I don't blame them--how many songs can you think of that are so achingly sad? I totally shed some tears looking up the song on Youtube, but I suppose it doesn't help at all that I was listening to Reiner speak about River Phoenix and what a loss his death was to everyone.  Phoenix sold Chris Chambers' character down to the ground and I must admit that I often felt like Phoenix might've been a little like Chris Chambers in real life. One of my favorite scenes, which was lifted straight from the book, is when Chris talks to Gordie about what they'll do after the summer is over and how they'll get split up. Chris says, "I wish to f*ck I was your father!...You wouldn't go around talking about taking those stupid shop courses if I was! It's like God gave you something, all those stories you can make up, and He said, This is what we got for you kid. Try not to lose it. But kids lose everything unless somebody looks out for them and if your folks are too f*cked up to do it then maybe I ought to." (Loc. 1250) I always thought that scene was so profound--two 12-year-olds "getting" the inevitability of life for so many people and it goes on for a few pages in the novella. Two or three pages that are even better than the movie, which I didn't think was possible.

At the end of the movie, the boys get to the body, Ace and his friends come in their car, Gordie gets Chris's gun out of the bag and threatens them until they leave. Flash forward to them walking back into town and the voice over narrator talks about what happened to each character. In the novella, Gordie insults Ace and his friends and Chris gets the gun and threatens everyone. Afterward, Chris is very affected and they walk back the way they came. Each of the boys is jumped by Ace's crew and their injuries are discussed. The narrator talks about what happened to each character but it is different than the film--by the time the author wrote the story, Vern had died in a fire, Teddy died in a car accident, and Chris died in the knife altercation mentioned in the film. Vern's brother, Ace, and their friends have a lot more screen time than they do in the book, for sure. The movie is really Gordie's story, maybe even moreso than the book, so even though it was not the same, it was just as powerful and made Gordie's character express his pent up emotions. The ending quote of the film, "I never had any friends like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?" is such a perfect way to end the film. I'm not surprised it was King who wrote those words. The screenwriters lifted them from the middle of the novella and inserted them perfectly into the end of the script. Great choice, in my opinion.

Stand By Me has one of the best movie soundtracks of all time. It is definitely in my Top 10.  We had the cassette tape of it in the nineties and listened to it all the time--I'm fairly sure I know all the words from beginning to end and I don't skip any of the songs, which is rare.

Here's the playlist:
1. Buddy Holly - Everyday
2. Shirley & Lee - Let The Good Times Roll
3. The Del Vikings - Come Go With Me
4. The Del Vikings - Whispering Bells
5. The Silhouettes - Get A Job
6. The Chordettes - Lollipop
7. The Coasters - Yakety Yak
8. Jerry Lewis - Great Balls of Fire
9. The Bobbettes - Mr. Lee
10. Ben E. King - Stand By Me


*Special note: If you were ever wondering what the barf is in the pie-eating contest, it is large curd cottage cheese and blueberry pie filling. 

This is a case where I find both the book and the movie to be equally but slightly differently appealing. They are both universal stories of friendships and the movie does a great job adapting the story to screen, but there are several passages like the one I quoted above that are just so moving that no matter how much I loved the ending scene of Stand By Me, I can't rate it higher than the book. 

Have you read the book or seen the movie? What did you think of them? 

This was an interesting Book vs. Movie comparison for me because I had watched both of these movies before ever reading the book.  (Click here for a great review of the book.)  I really loved the Swedish film, but I was underwhelmed by the American film which has the unnecessarily abbreviated title, Let Me In.  Would the book completely ruin the Swedish film for me?  Would I realize that it was a hollow piece of crap next to the book?  (Because that definitely happens.)

Well, I am here to report that I was very pleasantly surprised.  My love for the Swedish film remains intact - and actually, I feel like a traitor for saying this, but there are several aspects of the movie that I actually like more than the book.  The American film, on the other hand, became even more intolerable after I had read the book.  I could barely force myself to watch it a second time (I only succeeded in finishing it after several frustrating sittings).  It will be impossible to write this without spoilers, but I will make every attempt to warn you all before I give away anything really big.

Both movies, I think, did a great job with the cold, small-town atmosphere of Blackeburg: a small-minded place with almost no history.  I had to laugh at the American film for setting the story in Los Alamos, New Mexico though.  Is it really that cold and snowy in Los Alamos?  Who knew?

The Swedish film opens very similarly to the book, introducing the mysterious young Eli and her older companion (and blood supplier) Hakan.  Oskar is shown in class with more knowledge about police procedure than he should probably have (in the movie, he knows about forensic evidence at a murder scene; in the book he correctly identifies drugs).  There is a long scene in the book where Oskar is bullied that’s abbreviated down to one of the boys pushing against his nose in the hallway and saying, “oink” (in the book the bullies force him to squeal “like a pig”).   The bullies Micha and Jonny are condensed into one bully: Conny.

The American film opens with “the father’s” death many weeks later!  (In the American film, Hakan doesn’t have a name.)  I found this very odd, because it really places an emphasis on that event which I don’t think it deserves.  The opening scenes of the American film are all flash and screaming and death…which really shouldn’t surprise me but I was still disappointed.  The bullying is very much shown, with Owen getting a painful wedgie, wetting himself, and being tormented verbally.  In the American film they call him “little girl” instead of “piggy” which just makes me sad.  I guess in America, that really is more of an insult.  Boo.  Another major disappointment is that the main characters’ names are changed from Eli and Oskar to Abby and Owen.  Seriously?  I mean… I know it was changed to an American setting, but… would Ellie and Oscar have been too hard?  Come on.  The head bully’s name is also changed, to Kenny.

I like the casting of both films, but I really love the Swedish actress who plays Eli.  She’s just perfect, in my opinion.  She looks very androgynous and can appear young, old, sweet, and sinister.  She also more accurately resembles Eli of the book, who is described as having long dark hair.

In the book, Oskar is shown playing at murder by threatening and stabbing a tree and this scene is very brilliantly interwoven with the scene of Hakan murdering a boy in the woods (for blood).  Oskar also has a shoplifting habit and likes to collect newspaper articles about murders.  In both the Swedish and American films, the shoplifting is completely cut out.  But the Swedish film shows Oskar attacking a tree and collecting newspaper articles.  In the American film, they take Oskar’s tendencies a ridiculous step further by having him put on a crazy serial killer mask, watch people in his apartment complex through a telescope, and threaten himself with a knife in the mirror.  He also has an obsession with Now & Later.  Hooookay.

Another thing that both films eliminate completely is Hakan’s pedophilia.  In the book he’s shown with a young male prostitute (although he doesn’t go through with it) and stalking a young girl into the woods.  It is also made very clear that his relationship with Eli is a trade-off.  She is an ancient being, trapped in the body of a child, which is perfect for him.  He hates murdering people, but he does it so that he can have physical contact with Eli.  Their relationship is a very dysfunctional quid pro quo, with Hakan almost enthralled by her.

In both films, he is portrayed as more of a long-term companion and both films really play up the “affection” between Hakan and Eli.  The American film even goes so far as to insinuate that Abby and “The Father” have been together from the time he was a young boy, by showing old photographs of them.  Another American film fail: the murder scenes with “the father” are sensationalized to the max with plastic masks, car attacks, and cars flipping through the air.

Hakan doesn’t seem to enjoy murdering people in the films, but he seems to do it out of loyalty. Both films also paint his death as a very heartbreaking, almost loving scene which is quite different than the book.  To avoid major spoilers, let me just vaguely say that his death in the book involves weeks of surgery, a crazy re-animated killing machine, a dark basement, and the most horrific night in all of Blackeburg's limited history.

One thing that I did actually like in the American film was the playfulness between Abby and Owen.  In the book, Eli and Oskar have sweet inside jokes and secret codes.  They are very much children together, which becomes incredibly poignant when contrasted with Eli’s relationship with Hakan.  Oskar is not yet old enough to see Eli in a sexual way, and their relationship never feels sexualized.  Abby and Owen in the American film are shown in the arcade giggling and buying candy in the corner store.  Some of these scenes are in the Swedish film as well, but they feel much more sedate.  I never got that sense of childish fun.

However, I was very disappointed that the American film does seem to sexualize their relationship.  Owen is shown watching his neighbors make out and there’s a very important (to the book) scene where Oskar sees Eli undressed that’s similarly turned into blushing voyeurism, much to my dismay.

And I guess that brings me to one of the BIGGEST differences.  SPOILER ALERT!!!  AVERT YOUR EYES ALL YE WHO WISH TO REMAIN UNSPOILED!!!

Okay.  So in the book, it is revealed that Eli is actually Elias, a beautiful boy who was castrated at a very young age and turned into a vampire.  The Swedish film deals with this quite succinctly, by showing a close up of Eli’s nude pelvic region.  Talk about show, don’t tell!  In the American film, nothing is done and we are simply allowed to believe that Abby is and always has been a girl.  (Both films include Eli/Abby saying the line, "would you still like me if I weren't a girl?" but whether that refers to her gender or her non-human status isn't explained.)

OKAY SAFE TO COME BACK!

The Swedish film did a wonderful job portraying “the regulars” – a group of barflies who become a pool of victims for Eli.  Virginia takes center stage, as a woman who Eli drinks from but leaves alive, and who eventually begins to change into a vampire.  In the book, she realizes what’s happening and tries to stave off her urges by drinking her own blood (barf).  There’s also a crazy scene where she plans to kill a friend but is instead attacked by about a million cats!  And then throws herself down a flight of stairs whilst covered in enraged cats!!  When I first saw that in the Swedish film, I really wondered if that had been exaggerated but NO!  That really happens almost exactly in the book.

Virginia is described as a middle-aged grandmother and heavy drinker, so of course we in America went ahead and cast her as a young sultry twenty year old with a toy dog accessory.  All the other regulars are completely cut from the American film.  America also decided to cut out the attack of the cats, which is quite sad.  There really aren't enough crazy cat attack scenes in movies these days. 

Both films preserve the way that she finally dies: in a ball of flame ignited by sunshine.  However, the Swedish film stays faithful to the book and portrays her death as a peaceful suicide, whereas the American film shows her essentially dying by accident as someone opens a window.

There’s also some genuinely creepy stuff in the book about vampire physiology: Eli is shown growing claws, fangs, and wings and Virginia feels that her heart is growing an extra BRAIN.  (So that explains the whole stake through the heart thing.)  In both films, all of this is cut.  The only small references to it are when Eli scales the hospital wall to visit Hakan and when Oskar asks her how she got into his room, she says “I flew.”  In the book, Eli is also able to project her memories into Oskar’s mind by kissing him.  This is hinted at in the Swedish film, where Eli looks intently at Oskar and says, “be me for a little while.”  The American film cuts it completely.

Another MAJOR deletion in both films is Tommy, a high school boy who lives in Oskar's apartment complex.  Tommy and Oskar are both growing up without fathers, but Tommy's mom is dating an aggressive and boorish police officer.  Tommy gets into mischief, selling stolen items and sniffing glue in the basement.  And Tommy is a part of that certain basement scene that I'm not mentioning and don't ever want to think about again.  I can kind of see why they cut Tommy, as well as many of the over-the-top gruesome scenes.  The book has time to develop nuance and subtlety so it can afford a little horrific gore.  The movie only has two hours.  I think that by cutting the gore, the movie was able to achieve that same emotional, quiet tone.

The Swedish movie, I should say.  The American film achieves nothing of the sort.

In the book, Oskar struggles with the decision to stay with Eli or let her go.  A lot of pages are devoted to this: to Oskar realizing that he is alone and that not even his parents will ever get him.  And a lot of pages are devoted to Oskar coming to terms with the fact that Eli murders people. I think that the Swedish film did an excellent job showing this.  Eli challenges Oskar with his previous behavior, telling him that if given the chance, he would kill someone too (which is taken straight from the book).  This scene is left out of the American film.

In another major turning point, Oskar warns Eli of an intruder in her home.  When Virginia dies, her boyfriend (one of the regulars) decides to seek retribution by becoming a vampire killer.  He enters Eli's home and finds her sleeping in a bathtub...FILLED WITH BLOOD.  Both films altered this scene, instead showing Eli/Abby asleep nestled in blankets.  In the Swedish film (and the book) Oskar warns Eli, so that she can wake up and kill the intruder.  In the American film, the intruder is not Virginia's boyfriend, but a police officer and Abby is awakened by his uncovering of one of the windows and burning her face.  Owen is present, but it's definitely not as poignant.

THIS IS WHERE I SPOIL THE ENDING!!

In the end scene, Oskar is rescued by Eli from a group of his bullies.  He's in the school gymnasium, doing water aerobics (or practicing freestyle in the American version = much more manly) when a group of his bullies come in and basically attempt to murder him by drowning.  Eli raps at the window and one of the boys, nervous about what's happening to Oskar, tells her that she can come in.  The Swedish film shows the entire scene from Oskar's POV underwater, and I thought that was a nice way of getting around it.  Eli could have asked to come in; we just didn't hear it.  The American film just shows her busting in.  Both films show Oskar underwater during the attack, but in the Swedish film his eyes are closed (as detached hands float by).  When he's released, he surfaces and sees Eli, then smiles sweetly at her.

In the American film, his eyes are OPEN as several body parts plus a couple of detached HEADS float by!  He pops up, sees Abby, and does a little wobbly nervous smile.  It feels like every ounce of meaning is just drained from that scene.  In the book, there is one surviving boy, who is also shown in the Swedish film.  In the American film, they all die.

One thing that I really missed from the ending of both films is that the one remaining boy (RIP American film's one remaining boy) later goes on to tell the police that Oskar was saved by "an angel."  I loved that!  I think that it really illustrates what Lindqvist was trying to say, about how morally grey we all are, and how much of our "goodness" is just based on perception.  It would have been hard to show this in either movie, and would probably have dragged out the ending, but I still missed it.

However, both films include an end scene where Oskar and Eli communicate using Morse code through the walls of the steamer trunk she's stashed in as they run away together on a train.  I loved that little addition in both and was surprised that that didn't come from the book.

So in conclusion, I rate the Swedish film:

And I rate the American film:

Okay, so I read the entire book for the third or fourth time and finished (literally) right before the trailers began.   A few quick notes about the theater: We got there at 8:45 for a midnight showing and got to sit in our theater seats for that entire time. JACKPOT! There were a bunch of people dressed up  as Katniss, tributes, or Capitol dwellers. (I only had on my mockingjay pin.)  When they showed a trailer for the new Twilight movie and for the Snow White movie with Kristen Stewart, people booed...and I smiled at their booing. (In pride!) I was so giddily excited to see what Lionsgate and Gary Ross had in store for me and every other Hunger Games fan out there. First off, some advice to all fans of the series: DO NOT READ THE BOOK AGAIN RIGHT BEFORE YOU SEE THIS MOVIE. Do you hear me? Don't do it. You'll regret it if you do.

Okay, as I continue on I am going to assume that whoever is reading this blog post has already read the entire book series. In terms of the movie, I'm not sure how someone who hasn't seen it yet would feel. I mean, you already know the entire plot from the book so I'm really not spoiling anything. The way I see it is this: You will be entertained by the movie, it is a pretty good movie all around, but there are a lot of differences from the book and I will lay them out for you. You've been warned.

The movie opens in a similar fashion as the book, only there are a few text prompts that explain what the Hunger Games are before anything actually happens. Katniss is consoling Prim after she has a nightmare, which doesn't happen in the book--Prim has moved to their mother's bed before she wakes up. Mrs. Everdeen was much more put together in the movie than I would've liked her to be. The audience doesn't know that she works with medicines and this information is deleted from the entirety of the movie so Katniss never makes any references to knowledge of first aid or healing and Rue never helps Katniss with herbs for her tracker jacker stings. I loved the scene between Rue and Katniss in the book when they swap remedies and split supplies but it doesn't exist in the movie; instead, the two of them just eat together and then basically set up the firewood for their sabotage plans. The scene when Rue dies was still very moving but the film did little to develop a relationship between Rue and Katniss.

Gale and Katniss' relationship in the movie stays pretty true to the book and it was a highlight for me overall. The beginning scene with the two of them hunting creates a realistic belief by the audience that these two characters have a history. The dialogue between the two stays true to the book and we get the feeling of Gale's underlying distrust of the system.  Additionally, we get to see Gale watching the Games once or twice during the movie and that is something we don't ever see in the book: any glimpse of what he might be feeling as he sees Peeta and Katniss together.

Another highlight from start to finish is Effie Trinket. Elizabeth Banks does a wonderful job in character and even when she had lines that didn't appear in the book, she provided comic relief--comic relief that I'd hoped would come from Haymitch but... not so much. I was disappointed that Haymitch doesn't even appear until the tributes are already on the train--there was no falling off the stage or drunkenness or vomiting. He's coherent throughout and I thought that was a letdown.

The biggest difference in the film is the mockingjay pin. *sigh* In the book, Katniss receives the pin from Madge, a friend from District 12. She wears it not knowing its significance until she and Rue have a discussion in the arena. In the movie, Madge doesn't exist. Katniss finds the pin in the Hob, gives it to Prim to "protect her at the Reaping", Prim gives it back to Katniss, and then there is never a discussion with Rue. Oh, and Katniss wears the pin on her dress at the very end of the movie as a sign of her rebellion, which never happened in the book. I was such a fan of the way the pin was introduced in the book--not so much in the movie.

On a side note, I didn't mind that Cinna gave her the mockingjay pin as a sort of "secret" between the two of them. I was one of those people who complained about Lenny Kravitz' casting as Cinna but I'll eat crow on this one because he really could do no wrong. I was surprised as how much I liked him in that part.

The movie does capture the general feeling of the games and it doesn't skimp out on a lot of the violence. There are definitely a few deaths I was surprised to see included, but at the same time a lot of the deaths are just skipped over. (e.g. Katniss doesn't battle anyone for the backpack) After the initial battle at the cornucopia, 12 die instead of 11. WHY? Thresh is killed by the muttations instead of Cato. WHY? I guess just to move the story along but these little changes could've just used one dialogue line and stayed true to the book. (edit: It might be unclear how Thresh dies in the book. The scene near the end was changed, however, because in the book Cato comes frantically running past Peeta and Katniss and Peeta is limping as they all run together to the cornucopia. This would've been an even more adrenaline-filled scene if it'd stayed true to the book.)

Throughout the Games, we are shown how the gamemakers create and edit the arena and I have to say, that was quite interesting. It was something we never got to experience in the book and it added to the movie. Because readers know what is coming in books two and three, the filmmakers added a few details into the film to give hints at where the series is going. After Katniss gives her salute to Rue, we see riots in District 11. We see a few conversations between President Snow and Seneca Crane about the purpose of the games and containing the tiny bit of hope created by them. I understand why these scenes were included but I wish there was a way to include them without taking out scenes I wish were retained. And so it goes.  I think a much more successful way to incorporate the underlying tension in the districts would've been to include the Avox in the movie and flashback while Katniss explains to Peeta where she recognized her from. That happens in the book but the Avox, who has several scenes with Katniss in the book, is absent from the film.

Other scenes that are absent or changed in the movie:

• Katniss never receives bread from Rue's district
• Katniss never receives sleep potion or gives it to Peeta
• They never receive a feast basket when they are starving. (also, they are never starving)
• There is  never a dried-up stream or torrential rain
• Peeta never really appears all that sick. At the end of the games, he just hops down off the cornucopia and he and Katniss look/act rather healthy. There is no mention of either requiring any hospitalization, no metal leg or cane.
• Katniss' dress for the interview has ZERO jewels on it. And she twirls in her dress to create flames in what is probably the cheesiest scene in the movie.
• Peeta throws a heavy object in training to prove to the Careers that he is no one to be scoffed at
• Rue steals a knife from a Career during the training period.
• Katniss doesn't have flames painted on her nails. (easy fix)
• The muttations at the end are just CGI dogs and not combinations of the tributes and wolves. This made me sad. 
• Katniss is never visibly thirsty. She finds water right away and doesn't have to wander around trying to find it. She stays basically healthy throughout the entire Games except for her tracker jacker stings and her leg burn.
• After Peeta professes his crush on Katniss during the interview, she doesn't injure his hands.
• After Katniss wakes up from hallucinating from her stings, Rue is there explaining that Katniss had been asleep for days and that she'd been changing her camouflage.
• The sponsor gifts are delivered with a little noise, in a metal case with actual notes from Haymitch. (this change made sense to me)

I wish that there was a little more development for the Peeta/Katniss love story. As it is in the movie, it kind of moves straight from him professing his love at the interview to their one heartfelt conversation the night before the Games to Katniss caring for him.  She never tells him the story about Prim's goat and they don't really talk about anything of substance in the cave. The entire Games feels like it is about 5 days when it is supposed to be two weeks. That's what I was missing--I wanted it to feel a bit less hurried and to actually see the tributes in pain, hungry, and thirsty. And I wanted to see Peeta near death and Katniss nurse him back to health over time. In the book, I felt like Katniss was conflicted about her feelings but in the movie, I just never felt like she liked him all that much.

The movie ends at a similar point that the book does but continuing the discussion on Katniss and Peeta, I was missing his realization that it was all faked, or at least a good portion of it was. In the book, Haymitch prepares Katniss for the post-Games interview and tells her that he doesn't need to do so for Peeta because "he's already there." Peeta only finds out Katniss' jumbled feelings after that. The movie ends with Peeta still being clueless and Katniss making eye contact with Gale back in District 12. And with President Snow looking generally evil and plotting. And with Seneca Crane being locked in a room with poisonous berries. 

Using our new ratings system, I'd give the new Hunger Games movie:

This is actually probably somewhere between 3 and 4 stars. I think I would've enjoyed the film more if I hadn't read the book directly beforehand. The glaring omission of several of my favorite characters (mostly Madge and the Avox) and the character inconsistencies of Mrs. Everdeen and Haymitch nagged at me.  I wanted to see more of the Capitol and all the inventions, and I was missing a lot of relationship development. I will be going to see it once or twice more in theaters with members of my family and I can't wait to hear what they think. What did YOU think? Did you catch something I missed? Did you love it? Let's discuss in the comments!