Awful Adaptations

I’ve written many times here about my issues with TV and movie adaptations of existing stories. Short synopsis: I usually find them lacking. Especially the more recent attempts. Extra especially the live-action adaptations of animated stories. So many are just plain awful.

I don’t mean they fill me with awe, at least not the good kind. Sometimes I am a bit in awe that the people involved all thought it was a good thing. Emperor’s New Clothes, perhaps? No one wanted (or dared) to say anything?

Recently, I got to thinking about the worst adaptations I’ve seen…

To be clear, I consider an adaptation to be an explicit retelling of an existing and known story, but in a different medium (the canonical example is a movie adaptation of a book). Adaptations include, but aren’t limited to, remakes and reboots, but generally don’t include sequels or spin-offs [see Revisiting the Well for details on the distinctions].

One giveaway of an adaptation is the title. If it’s the same as, or very similar to, the work it’s adapting, it’s almost certainly an adaptation. (Unless it’s a sequel or spin-off.) Of course, many adaptations don’t use the source title while still being clear — if not openly acknowledged — adaptations.

Some adaptors are sly and don’t acknowledge the source material. This varies from plagiary (bad) to homage (good), with many points between (and probably points outside). As always, intent matters but is hard to discern in art. One can’t always trust even what the artist says about their work, let alone any critic.

Nuances aside, my list of Awful Adaptations only includes acknowledged adaptations with clear reference to their source. And therefore, are rightfully judged in the context of their respective source works.

Which usually is exactly what makes them so awful.

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Ironically, the trigger (is that a trigger word?) for notes for a possible post was seeing two rather good adaptations. Interestingly (especially considering one of the entries below), both were of Agatha Christie novels.

The first was The Mirror Cracked (1980), a Miss Marple story (with Angela Lansbury playing Miss Marple). It’s definitely a product of the 80s, and a bit kitsch to boot, but — and this is what matters — it honors the 1962 text. The cast includes Rock Hudson, Tony Curtis, Geraldine Chaplin, Kim Novak, Edward Fox, and Elisabeth Taylor. Worth seeing just for the cast. Directed by Guy Hamilton (who did four early James Bond movies as well as Force 10 from Navarone).

The other was a 1989 adaptation of Christie novel now titled And Then There Were None (1939). The novel is one of her standalone stories — one she later adapted for the stage (with a different, more upbeat ending). There are more than half a dozen movie adaptations. The one I saw recently uses the second title, Ten Little Indians, the stage version’s ending, and wasn’t too bad. Cast includes Donald Pleasence, Brenda Vaccaro, and Frank Stallone (Sly’s younger brother). Worth seeing for Christie fans.

[I’d keep hoping to find the first version I saw as a kid, the 1965 adaptation directed by George Pollock, but it hasn’t turned up on the few streaming platforms I subscribe to. I should see if I can rent it from the library.]

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Anyway, here’s my list for the Most Awful Adaptations I’ve Seen:

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Andromeda Strain (1969), the novel by Michael Crichton.

The same-named 1971 Robert Wise film, made back when adaptations of modern books tended to stick to the text, was pretty good, especially for the day. But the 2008 made-for-TV two-part miniseries was another story. The first part, shown one night, was pretty good. Very faithful to the text. The second part went so far off-book our jaws dropped.

It had, as I recall, a really stupid and unnecessary extension of the plot. The virus turns out to be intelligent plus time-travel is involved. My sci-fi-loving buddy and I agreed it was awful and all the more so in comparison to the great start. Between us we (jokingly) take mentioning it with great disfavor because of the painful memories it invokes. It’s my canonical example of an Awful Adaptation.

Surprisingly, this offense of science fiction was produced by none other than Tony and Ridley Scott. Neither is credited with writing or directing, so perhaps that explains it. Producer credits on film and TV infamously mean almost nothing. (Oddly, in the music business, they mean a great deal. Producers are generally the ones responsible for the sound of recording.)

The strange, almost mind-breaking, thing about this one is the difference between the two parts. The first part seemed to earn the production a Wow! rating (or a very strong Ah! at the very least). The second part, though, undid all the goodness and more. I give the second part an Ugh! rating, and it was so bad I’m inclined to give the same overall. A strong Nah! rating at the very least overall.

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The ABC Murders (1936), the novel by Agatha Christie.

An awful TV adaptation of Agatha Christie’s book with John Malkovich as Hercule Poirot (awful casting). I found it so vile and disgusting that I vented my spleen in a post about it and won’t speak of it further.

Needle firmly pegged on the Ugh! rating for this one.

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Cowboy Bebop (1998), the Japanese anime directed by Shinichirō Watanabe and written by Keiko Nobumoto (with music by Yoko Kanno). As is often the case with anime, Cowboy Bebop is an adaptation of a manga original source.

The thing here is: the anime is considered a much-revered classic. [See this post for more.] It stands alone. Revisiting this well can only pollute the water. It would seem incredibly arrogant, or stupid, to try.

The 2021 Netflix live-action adaptation was a travesty on so many levels. [See this post for details.] Suffice to say that its awfulness was immediately apparent in the first five minutes of watching. I can’t remember if I even watched all of the first episode, and I don’t want to try to recall the experience.

Another never-should-have-been-made Ugh! rating (albeit not as loudly and vehemently as that utter piece of filth just above). That Netflix cancelled this series almost immediately says a lot.

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The Sandman (1989-1996), the graphic novel written by Neil Gaiman, drawn by various artists.

Maybe not quite a classic, but certainly one of the more notable graphic novels. I generally like Gaiman’s work a lot, but his most recent stuff seems to suffer from overmuch pandering to identity politics.

The Netflix live-action adaptation, which Gaiman was associated with, was not well-received. And rightfully so, I thought. I wrote about this rather extensively [see this, this, and this], so won’t go on about it further.

Suffice to say, yet another Ugh! rating. Should not have been made. Netflix (again rightfully) cancelled this one, too.

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Preacher (1995-2000), the graphic novel written by Garth Ennis, drawn by Steve Dillon and others.

Definitely not to everyone’s taste, but certainly an original story. The AMC adaptation was, as I wrote in 2018, “awfully awful.” [See this post for details. It’s one of the first posts where I got into my problems with adaptations, although this much older one also gets into it.]

Yep. Another Ugh! rating. Kind of goes without saying on this list.

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The Joe Leaphorn, Jim Chee, Bernie Manuelito Navajo Tribal Police novels written by Tony Hillerman and Anne Hillerman.

The original series by Tony Hillerman ranks as one of my all-time favorite mystery series. [See this post for more.] Been a fan since the early days. Daughter Anne carries on the series with an emphasis on Bernie Manuelito (who still hasn’t got her own Wiki page, damn it). I’ve enjoyed these, too.

[In fact, I just finished re-reading the 18 originals and am working my way through the eight continuations. A rare case where I’ve accepted a new author taking over for one who died. I usually won’t.]

But Dark Winds, the 2022 AMC television adaptation based on those books was, I thought, awful. When I heard there was an adaptation, I was eager and hopeful (I should know better, but ever the optimist). While Amazon Prime only offered the first episode of seasons one and two, it was (more than) enough to show me where the show was going. Not in any direction I wanted to go! [See this post for details.]

And, of course, it gets an Ugh! rating.

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A Christmas Carol (1843), a novella by Charles Dickens.

I’ve written about this wonderful timeless story quite a bit, it’s one of my absolute favorites. I re-read it every Christmas and watch as many adaptations as I can. And there are a lot of them, from faithful to wild. (One of my favorites is the old Mr. Magoo animated version from 1962.)

The only one I’ve hated is the 2019 British miniseries with Guy Pearce and Andy Serkis. As much as I love the story, I couldn’t get through this. It’s the second entry on this list featuring a British attempt to turn a light work into a horror story, and I call UF (Utter Fail).

And need I say: an Ugh! rating.

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Generally speaking, with some notable exceptions, most adaptations lately seem bad, and I think there are (at least) two big reasons for it:

1. Too much political messaging.
2. Dumb writers. Smart writing requires smart writers.

I’ve been watching a lot of older movies and TV shows lately (because most new stuff is so bad), and even when the jokes or plots are dumb, there is something somehow better about the writing. It’s as if they used better building materials back then. Or perhaps it’s a matter of actual expertise with the craft of writing.

Visual stories today seem very by-the-numbers as if constructed with LEGOs. What I call “iconic” writing and not in the good sense of the term. I mean it as in computer desktop icons — simplified images intended to represent something more complex. Modern screenplays seem to rely on these icons rather than expressing the complexity or nuance of the story. And, thus, modern writing comes off as dumb.

I suspect that the wretchedness that passes as an education system in this country is largely to blame, but I also think the interweb has — contrary to its promises — made people dumber. We suffer from a disturbing lack of critical thinking, and this is painfully apparent in many movies and TV shows. Dumb writers write dumb stories.

Modern audiences often seem just as dumb, just as willing to accept the icons rather than trouble their brains with the nuances of a good story. Modern audiences don’t seem to crave content that makes them think. And, honestly, perhaps audiences never really did. Perhaps thoughtful stories are a small niche for the more philosophically inclined.

Can’t help but think that’s a shame. So many of modern life’s problems seem due to not thinking things through. Modern culture doesn’t really stress it as a value. Indeed, having too much intelligence is often devalued by pop culture (as well as the far right). Hard to sit by and watch sometimes, though.

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I wonder about how our standards have slipped. I knew people who liked anything with science fiction or good CGI. Now nearly everything is science fiction, and CGI is ubiquitous, but still some people have (what seems to me) a surprising ability to ignore the awfulness of a story because it has some element they crave.

I call it shit-covered raisin theory. Loving the raisins so much that the shit doesn’t matter. Granted, every aspect of life has a Yin of shit to the Yang of raisin, but I’m surprised by how much shit people will eat to enjoy the raisin. Maybe I just have a very low tolerance for shit.

And, as always, there are the orthogonal axes of quality (good vs bad) and appreciation (like vs dislike). We often confuse what we like (for whatever reason, and there’s no accounting for like) with what’s good (which is far more objective). [See this post for more.]

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To end on a positive note, I was reminded recently of what might be the best adaptation ever: the Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003), by Peter Jackson. Most fans of the books acknowledge that Jackson nailed it — actually brought to life what we’d imagined for so many years. Very, very impressive job, it gets an easy Wow! rating (and I think it’s time to watch it all again).

Too bad about his adaptation of The Hobbit (2012-2014). That was a definite Ugh! rating, especially in contrast to the first trilogy.

Stay original, my friends! Go forth and spread beauty and light.

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