đđđ„ The essentials of adaptation
Screenwriters don't simply adapt, they adopt.
This rebroadcast tackles questions on adaptations, and addresses the idea that writing an adaptation is inherently lesser than writing whatâs considered an original screenplay.
Daniel Wallace, who wrote the book Big Fish, on movie adaptations:
The best adaptations are inspired by the source material, not dictated by it. The screenwriter doesnât work for the author; he takes possession of the story, and owns it as much as the novelist does. If not, if there is even a hint of subservience, the adaptation and the movie it hopes to become will suffer, and sometimes die a grisly, unliterary death. And if youâve never seen an unliterary death itâs a sad thing to watch.
How does someone go about adapting a written story to film format? Thanks.
âSam
The first issue you face with any adaptation is rights. The author of the original material generally holds the copyright, which means they have say over whether or not a movie can be made based on the material, and for what price. So if youâre serious about adapting the work, youâll want to check with the original authorâs publisher (in the "sub-rights" department) and get contact information so you can start the process of buying or optioning these rights. ("Optioning" is something like "leasing-to-buy," where you pay a fraction of the money up front, with a promise to pay more later if the movie gets made.)
Itâs important to note that copyright expires, so if youâre looking at adapting something originally written in the 1800âs, thereâs a good chance the work is considered to be "in the public domain," which means you wonât have to secure any rights at all.
Of course, thereâs a big difference between having the rights to a story and actually having a movie to make. Adapting a story into movie form is a lot harder than it might seem at first.
The basic problem is that movies work so differently than most fiction or other prose.
In novels or short stories, the prose is the final product. Screenplays, on the other hand, are blueprints. Theyâre a plan for making a movie, but not the movie itself. While the author of a novel has the final say about everything that happens in a story, the screenwriter is by default only one of many hands in making the movie, and everyone who becomes involved with the project will change it in one way or another. Thus the screenplay has to communicate the overall vision for the movie, above and beyond all the details of character, plot and theme. A book is just a book, but a screenplay has to be a story, a plan, a sales tool and a mission statement all in one.
Fiction can ramble. Screenplays have to be ruthlessly efficient.
In fiction, the author can say what a character is thinking. In movies, a screenwriter doesnât have that option, without resorting to some device like a voice-over or flashback.
Movies are fundamentally a visual medium, so the screenwriter has to be able to tell the story with images. Yes, thereâs sound and dialogue, but the picture is king. In a book, the author can say what a character tastes or smells or feels. In a movie, all the audience can experience is sight and sound, so the screenwriter needs to communicate everything through only these two senses.
Itâs an exaggeration to say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but it would be very hard to capture the essence of The Matrixâs bullet-time on paper without having seen if first, or the feeling of a John Williams soundtrack. But this efficiency comes at a cost. With rare, art-house exceptions, movies have scenes. The viewer is seeing and hearing something that is taking place at a specific time and location. Movies move relentlessly forward at 24-frames per second, and the viewer cannot choose to stop and think about something, or flip back a few pages to catch something they missed.
Of all the literary tools available to the writer, the most valuable may be insight. The novelist can choose to tell the reader what the character is thinking, or fill in extra details, or sketch out relationships, that have nothing to do with the current scene. In fact, the novel doesnât need to have "scenes" at all. Moments and observations can float freely in space and time, arranged in whatever order best suits the story.
A movie has basically the same goals as a novel. It wants to transport the viewer into a different place and time, making them feel like what theyâre seeing and hearing is real. A movie has many advantages over a novel. Not only are there concrete visuals, but you hear the characters speak and watch them fight.
But movies lack insight. Aside from an occasional voice-over or narrator intrusion, a movie canât communicate anything to the viewer beyond what is seen and heard. Since a movie canât flat-out tell you what the hero is thinking, it has to be very specific with its images and sounds to let you know whatâs going on inside a characterâs head.
Given these challenges, it becomes clear why adapting a book into a movie isnât a matter of feeding the pages into a projector. It also explains when bad movies are made from good books.
The most important thing is to approach the project as a movie, with all the strengths and limitations of the medium, rather than as a novel or short story. Focus on the primary characters, their goals and obstacles. Rather than trying to winnow down the source material to fit into 120 pages, try to invite in only the elements you really need; that is, build up rather than strip down.
Now for the terrifying truth: a screenplay is the worst of both worlds. Itâs a work of literature that has to conform to all the limitations of a movie, yet without any of cinemaâs special abilities. That above all else is why screenwriting is so hard.
The screenwriter has to look for ways to take ideas that "float" in a novel and tie them down to specific moments, locations and times. Sometimes this means simply repurposing internal thoughts as dialogue, but more often it involves a fundamental rethinking of the structure, storyline and characters to achieve the goal.
And most importantly, remember that adaptation isnât any easier than writing a screenplay from scratch. So donât beat yourself when certain aspect worked in the novel but not in your script. Theyâre different beasts.
So, I understand the merits of re-making movies from the past, or making old TV shows into features. I also get it from a studios perspective inasmuch as itâs a known property that has a fanbase, or has made a profit in the past.
But when I see studios making adaptations of toys like âMagic 8 Ballâ or âBattleshipâ or âStretch Armstrongâ it really bums out the aspiring writer in me. It makes me think Hollywood doesnât want my original idea. Can you talk me down from the ledge?
â Logan
Los Angeles
Logan, Iâm right there on the ledge with you. But when you look down past your shoelaces, you realize that itâs not rocks and crashing waves below. The ledge weâre standing on is about eight feet high. At the bottom is concrete.
Jump wrong, and itâs going to be painful. Jump carefully, and youâll be fine.
Yes, I rolled my eyes when the âBattleshipâ movie was announced. But Iâll happily see a modern naval war movie, and if it has to be named after a Milton Bradley property, so be it. A hidden upside to writing a movie based on just a title is that the screenwriter has huge latitude, unlike a book or TV adaptation.
Pendulums swing. It was dumb to make a movie out of a theme park ride before Pirates of the Caribbean. This trend towards making movies out of properties with no inherent narrative will eventually end. In the meantime, letâs root for the best versions of these projects.
Good movies are a blessing, regardless of the source.
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