The difference between the books and the movie: John Carter
Yesterday, I wrote what I hoped to be a fairly unbiased review of the
new John Carter movie. If you are new to my blog, I should reveal that
I am a lifelong fan of the Barsoom novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs, the
source for John Carter. Today, I want to look at the movie again from
what I am jokingly referring to as the fanboy perspective, from the
point of view of someone intimately familiar with the original story,
with an eye towards describing the differences in the two versions of
the stories and trying to understand why those changes were made.
There may be spoilers in what follows, but I don't imagine they will
be so severe as to ruin either the movie-going experience or the joy
of reading the novels.
I should note also that I am not going to talk about every difference
between the books and the movie. I expect there to be
differences—books can't be adapted verbatim, for reasons of time and
storytelling. For instance, in the movie John Carter is given the name
Dotar Sojat meaning "my right hand" by Tars Tarkas. In the books,
Dotar and Sojat are the names of the first two warriors Carter kills
and thus his Barsoomian name. There is not a lot of value explicating
this; the writers used a name from the source, which often is enough
to get a giddy sigh from the fans of the original work, and they are
able to suitably adapt the name to add more meaning to the story they
are trying to tell. In this case, we don't have to have pages of
Carter and Tars Tarkas fighting together to see that they build up
trust and friendship between them, the movie spares the viewer time by
having Tars Tarkas announce his dependence on his new comrade, by
naming him "my right hand."
One detail in the books that make even their fans grimace is the
method by which John Carter travels from Earth to Mars. Frankly said,
the reader has no idea how it happens and neither does John Carter:
As I stood thus meditating, I turned my gaze from the landscape to
the heavens where the myriad stars formed a gorgeous and fitting
canopy for the wonders of the earthly scene. My attention was quickly
riveted by a large red star close to the distant horizon. As I gazed
upon it I felt a spell of overpowering fascination—it was Mars, the
god of war, and for me, the fighting man, it had always held the power
of irresistible enchantment. As I gazed at it on that far-gone night
it seemed to call across the unthinkable void, to lure me to it, to
draw me as the lodestone attracts a particle of iron.
My longing was beyond the power of opposition; I closed my eyes,
stretched out my arms toward the god of my vocation and felt myself
drawn with the suddenness of though through the trackless immensity of
space. There was an instant of extreme cold and utter darkness. (A
Princess of Mars)
…and John Carter opens his eyes on the planet Mars. But using this
method in the movie would bring hoots of derision and monumental
eye-rolling from critics—Carter got to Mars by wishing himself there?
Instead, the screenwriters take other elements of the story and expand
them to fill their need: the priest class of Barsoom has the ability
to travel between the planets and Carter stumbles across one of their
way stations in the Arizona desert and is accidentally transported to
Mars. This method is more palatable to a mainstream audience and also
opens the door to further plot development, allowing this priestly
class, the Therns, to become the overarching villains of the story and
provide a threat that could support a franchise of movies. Also, by
couching the plot change in terms familiar to the audience familiar
with the books, the screenwriters placate that same audience somewhat.
Thus the story change maximizes the benefit to novice viewers and
minimizes the pain for fans of the books, deriving the most advantage
overall.
Of course, it could be argued that the movie could have remained true
to Edgar Rice Burroughs's original vision, but that would have pushed
the movie closer to an independent sort of movie, one suitable for art
houses. Filmed that way, John Carter could have become a cult favorite
on the art house circuit though the odds on that happening are pretty
long and the profits pretty small, especially when compared to a
potential movie franchise. Just by choosing to go the blockbuster
route, the crew narrowed down the parameters of the kind of story they
could tell.
Another fairly big change which worked pretty well for the movie was
in the character of Dejah Thoris. Bearing in mind that the original
novel, A Princess of Mars, was published in 1912 and was generally
intended for an audience of boys and young men, Dejah Thoris as
written is really not more than a plot point. She's beautiful and in
need of rescuing, giving John Carter a reason for his subsequent
actions. Burroughs makes it clear that she is smart and well-trained
in swordplay, making her something more than just an ornament, a model
of the strong woman that Carter needs by his side, but she isn't
developed very far as a character in that first book. In the movie,
however, Dejah Thoris is not only smart but something of an academic
(Carter refers to her regularly as "professor") and still also a
swordswoman, capable of not only defending herself but engaging in
witty banter as she does so. Modern audiences would have been
disturbed if Dejah Thoris was as flatly portrayed as she is written,
and given that a potential franchise needs support across all
demographics, a solid female role model can only help, especially in
the young girl and teen girl segments. And frankly, it's pretty hard
to read Dejah Thoris without wincing at the stereotypical portrayal of
her from the time period. This updated version seems a much better
match for John Carter, especially to audiences with experience with
relationships, which the intended audience for the books surely never
had. I freely admit to being totally messed up into my 20s about how
men and women relate in part because my first impression of it came
from the Burroughs books.
But on the other hand, the attempt to make John Carter himself more
accessible to mainstream audiences doesn't work so well. In the books,
Carter is a stoic warrior, a man of few words and little humor, but
generally radiating charisma. He is the greatest swordsman of two
worlds, unbeaten and unbeatable. But that sort of uber-competence
doesn't work with movie-going audiences; for some reason, we want to
see our heroes with flaws. The plot goes out of its way to demonstrate
his ability as a fighter and his ability to strategize in its time in
the Arizona desert, but then, somehow, Carter seems to forget most of
it when he gets to Barsoom. The movie's John Carter is somewhat
impatient and selfish, traits that belong nowhere near the character
as he is written. The books' John Carter fights on Barsoom because he
sees injustice and because he can make a difference, and while the
movie's John Carter ultimately arrives at the same determination, it
takes a lot of work to get him there. And while it may make his
character more accessible, it also makes him weaker and distinctly
less heroic.
One difference that was somewhat mixed in its success was the
portrayal of Woola. The novels make it clear that Woola, a beast
called a calot and the Barsoomian analog of a dog, is perhaps John
Carter's most steadfast companion on Barsoom, the archetype of the
doting watchdog. When John Carter shows appreciation, even affection,
when Woola originally leaps to his defense, Woola commits himself to
Carter's protection, never wanting to leave his side. The movie does a
decent job of showing this, but then takes it perhaps a bit too far by
making Woola a comic bit. First, Woola is ugly, described in
Burroughs's writing as nothing so much as frog the size of a Shetland
pony but with ten legs. The movie plays up the ugliness by letting us
see often into Woola's hideous mouth, wherein is hidden his huge blue
tongue. Being a faithful dog, the movie pulls out the stereotype that
dogs apparently are incapable of life without drooling and slobbering
over their owners, and it is made that much funnier by the dog using
its huge blue tongue to show its affection for John Carter. And while
calots are fast animals in the books, in the movie, Woola runs at
ridiculous speed, leaving trails of dust behind it as though it were
more Barsoomian roadrunner than dog. I understand why this relatively
minor change was made—Woola offers some levity and appeal to a younger
audience, and cynically, if it succeeds, then perhaps every child will
want a stuffed Woola—but the actual carrying out of this change
becomes grating to the adult audience. But the vision and conception
of the beast feel dead on; the movie just pushes what passes for
personality a trifle too far.
There is one fairly large change that I have no explanation for; I can
neither figure it out from a writerly point of view nor from a
marketing one. The main conflict of the movie is between the two
city-states of Helium and Zodanga. For some reason, the plot of the
movie requires that Zodanga be a mobile city, basically a city that
walks on tremendous legs all over the planet. While it has a gee whiz
factor and is impressive in the idea of it, the fact that Zodanga is a
walking city has no bearing on the story of the movie at all, and very
little time is spent there, so that there are no long scenes of the
city to wow the audience. This one just feels like change for change's
sake.
So, ultimately, I generally understand why the writers changed what
they did to make the movie more accessible. I can accept them though
in some cases I don't really like them very much. That's the trouble
with the devoted (some might say "obsessed") fan; I really wanted to
see the books that Burroughs wrote in cinema. But that movie would
have even worse reception than what the one we have has received. And
it is the very rare moviemaker who can ignore cost and income in
pursuit of a vision.
Taken from : Pandora's Longbox
http://perrynomasia.blogspot.com/2012/03/difference-between-books-and-movie-john.html
new John Carter movie. If you are new to my blog, I should reveal that
I am a lifelong fan of the Barsoom novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs, the
source for John Carter. Today, I want to look at the movie again from
what I am jokingly referring to as the fanboy perspective, from the
point of view of someone intimately familiar with the original story,
with an eye towards describing the differences in the two versions of
the stories and trying to understand why those changes were made.
There may be spoilers in what follows, but I don't imagine they will
be so severe as to ruin either the movie-going experience or the joy
of reading the novels.
I should note also that I am not going to talk about every difference
between the books and the movie. I expect there to be
differences—books can't be adapted verbatim, for reasons of time and
storytelling. For instance, in the movie John Carter is given the name
Dotar Sojat meaning "my right hand" by Tars Tarkas. In the books,
Dotar and Sojat are the names of the first two warriors Carter kills
and thus his Barsoomian name. There is not a lot of value explicating
this; the writers used a name from the source, which often is enough
to get a giddy sigh from the fans of the original work, and they are
able to suitably adapt the name to add more meaning to the story they
are trying to tell. In this case, we don't have to have pages of
Carter and Tars Tarkas fighting together to see that they build up
trust and friendship between them, the movie spares the viewer time by
having Tars Tarkas announce his dependence on his new comrade, by
naming him "my right hand."
One detail in the books that make even their fans grimace is the
method by which John Carter travels from Earth to Mars. Frankly said,
the reader has no idea how it happens and neither does John Carter:
As I stood thus meditating, I turned my gaze from the landscape to
the heavens where the myriad stars formed a gorgeous and fitting
canopy for the wonders of the earthly scene. My attention was quickly
riveted by a large red star close to the distant horizon. As I gazed
upon it I felt a spell of overpowering fascination—it was Mars, the
god of war, and for me, the fighting man, it had always held the power
of irresistible enchantment. As I gazed at it on that far-gone night
it seemed to call across the unthinkable void, to lure me to it, to
draw me as the lodestone attracts a particle of iron.
My longing was beyond the power of opposition; I closed my eyes,
stretched out my arms toward the god of my vocation and felt myself
drawn with the suddenness of though through the trackless immensity of
space. There was an instant of extreme cold and utter darkness. (A
Princess of Mars)
…and John Carter opens his eyes on the planet Mars. But using this
method in the movie would bring hoots of derision and monumental
eye-rolling from critics—Carter got to Mars by wishing himself there?
Instead, the screenwriters take other elements of the story and expand
them to fill their need: the priest class of Barsoom has the ability
to travel between the planets and Carter stumbles across one of their
way stations in the Arizona desert and is accidentally transported to
Mars. This method is more palatable to a mainstream audience and also
opens the door to further plot development, allowing this priestly
class, the Therns, to become the overarching villains of the story and
provide a threat that could support a franchise of movies. Also, by
couching the plot change in terms familiar to the audience familiar
with the books, the screenwriters placate that same audience somewhat.
Thus the story change maximizes the benefit to novice viewers and
minimizes the pain for fans of the books, deriving the most advantage
overall.
Of course, it could be argued that the movie could have remained true
to Edgar Rice Burroughs's original vision, but that would have pushed
the movie closer to an independent sort of movie, one suitable for art
houses. Filmed that way, John Carter could have become a cult favorite
on the art house circuit though the odds on that happening are pretty
long and the profits pretty small, especially when compared to a
potential movie franchise. Just by choosing to go the blockbuster
route, the crew narrowed down the parameters of the kind of story they
could tell.
Another fairly big change which worked pretty well for the movie was
in the character of Dejah Thoris. Bearing in mind that the original
novel, A Princess of Mars, was published in 1912 and was generally
intended for an audience of boys and young men, Dejah Thoris as
written is really not more than a plot point. She's beautiful and in
need of rescuing, giving John Carter a reason for his subsequent
actions. Burroughs makes it clear that she is smart and well-trained
in swordplay, making her something more than just an ornament, a model
of the strong woman that Carter needs by his side, but she isn't
developed very far as a character in that first book. In the movie,
however, Dejah Thoris is not only smart but something of an academic
(Carter refers to her regularly as "professor") and still also a
swordswoman, capable of not only defending herself but engaging in
witty banter as she does so. Modern audiences would have been
disturbed if Dejah Thoris was as flatly portrayed as she is written,
and given that a potential franchise needs support across all
demographics, a solid female role model can only help, especially in
the young girl and teen girl segments. And frankly, it's pretty hard
to read Dejah Thoris without wincing at the stereotypical portrayal of
her from the time period. This updated version seems a much better
match for John Carter, especially to audiences with experience with
relationships, which the intended audience for the books surely never
had. I freely admit to being totally messed up into my 20s about how
men and women relate in part because my first impression of it came
from the Burroughs books.
But on the other hand, the attempt to make John Carter himself more
accessible to mainstream audiences doesn't work so well. In the books,
Carter is a stoic warrior, a man of few words and little humor, but
generally radiating charisma. He is the greatest swordsman of two
worlds, unbeaten and unbeatable. But that sort of uber-competence
doesn't work with movie-going audiences; for some reason, we want to
see our heroes with flaws. The plot goes out of its way to demonstrate
his ability as a fighter and his ability to strategize in its time in
the Arizona desert, but then, somehow, Carter seems to forget most of
it when he gets to Barsoom. The movie's John Carter is somewhat
impatient and selfish, traits that belong nowhere near the character
as he is written. The books' John Carter fights on Barsoom because he
sees injustice and because he can make a difference, and while the
movie's John Carter ultimately arrives at the same determination, it
takes a lot of work to get him there. And while it may make his
character more accessible, it also makes him weaker and distinctly
less heroic.
One difference that was somewhat mixed in its success was the
portrayal of Woola. The novels make it clear that Woola, a beast
called a calot and the Barsoomian analog of a dog, is perhaps John
Carter's most steadfast companion on Barsoom, the archetype of the
doting watchdog. When John Carter shows appreciation, even affection,
when Woola originally leaps to his defense, Woola commits himself to
Carter's protection, never wanting to leave his side. The movie does a
decent job of showing this, but then takes it perhaps a bit too far by
making Woola a comic bit. First, Woola is ugly, described in
Burroughs's writing as nothing so much as frog the size of a Shetland
pony but with ten legs. The movie plays up the ugliness by letting us
see often into Woola's hideous mouth, wherein is hidden his huge blue
tongue. Being a faithful dog, the movie pulls out the stereotype that
dogs apparently are incapable of life without drooling and slobbering
over their owners, and it is made that much funnier by the dog using
its huge blue tongue to show its affection for John Carter. And while
calots are fast animals in the books, in the movie, Woola runs at
ridiculous speed, leaving trails of dust behind it as though it were
more Barsoomian roadrunner than dog. I understand why this relatively
minor change was made—Woola offers some levity and appeal to a younger
audience, and cynically, if it succeeds, then perhaps every child will
want a stuffed Woola—but the actual carrying out of this change
becomes grating to the adult audience. But the vision and conception
of the beast feel dead on; the movie just pushes what passes for
personality a trifle too far.
There is one fairly large change that I have no explanation for; I can
neither figure it out from a writerly point of view nor from a
marketing one. The main conflict of the movie is between the two
city-states of Helium and Zodanga. For some reason, the plot of the
movie requires that Zodanga be a mobile city, basically a city that
walks on tremendous legs all over the planet. While it has a gee whiz
factor and is impressive in the idea of it, the fact that Zodanga is a
walking city has no bearing on the story of the movie at all, and very
little time is spent there, so that there are no long scenes of the
city to wow the audience. This one just feels like change for change's
sake.
So, ultimately, I generally understand why the writers changed what
they did to make the movie more accessible. I can accept them though
in some cases I don't really like them very much. That's the trouble
with the devoted (some might say "obsessed") fan; I really wanted to
see the books that Burroughs wrote in cinema. But that movie would
have even worse reception than what the one we have has received. And
it is the very rare moviemaker who can ignore cost and income in
pursuit of a vision.
Taken from : Pandora's Longbox
http://perrynomasia.blogspot.com/2012/03/difference-between-books-and-movie-john.html
