Okay, here's the deal. I'll never get it, folks. I mean, is it honestly asking too much for the Suits in Hollywood to make a great movie out of a great book nowadays? And, don't give me all the "Well, there was some editing to be done, and it's hard to capture the true spirit...." crap. If it's so hard to do, don't do it. End of discussion.
Take, for example, Stephen King movies. I'm not gonna get into a great debate over Stephen King's books and whether or not they are "quality" products. I like King's books, and, apparently, so do a jillion other readers. But, why can't anyone make a decent movie from one of his books? The only two people qualified to ever make a movie out of a Stephen King book are Frank Darabont and Rob Reiner. Why? Because these two men are the only guys that have made quality movies based on King's work. And, why is that? Because in both cases, The Shawshank Redemption and Stand By Me, the directors kept the movies as true to the book as humanly possible. Dialogue, locales, character development, almost every detail from the books is in the movies. (Curiously, both books are not the "horror" genre that King is known for. Could it be that it is just asking too much for a quality horror film to be made, like Scream?)
Look. I know it'll always be common practice to use best-sellers for screen fodder. I'm not proposing a federal law to stop that. All I'm saying is this: Make the movie based on the book. Hey, Director-People! We all know you know how to make movies. We all accept the fact that you have your "vision" for a movie. But, if the movie you're making is based on a book that the masses have read and enjoyed, why do you feel the need to change it to suit your fancy? Why ruin the book so you can add an extra explosion or new character or some odd plot wrinkle...or worse of all -- a different ending?
Think back, folks. At one time, books like To Kill A Mockingbird could be translated to screen and still be powerful and meaningful. A whippersnapper named Spielberg could take a book like Jaws, make a few minor changes, and scare a generation of people away from the sand for years. Today, a book is only a skeleton for some director to build his story on, and usually, said skeleton gets an unholy beating in the name of art from yonder auteur.
The latest criminal here is Clint Eastwood, and Exhibit A for the prosecution is the mishmash he's made out of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, the best-seller by John Berendt. If you are a fan of this book, run for the hills, 'cause this movie ain't the book. Not by a long shot.
The story here concerns Jim Williams (Kevin Spacey), an antiques dealer in Savannah, and his involvement in the death of his lover, Billy Hanson (Jude Law). Wrapped into this story is journalist John Kelso (John Cusack), an outsider to the sometimes-strange world of Savannah society, but an adopted soul to the city, all the same. The rest of the movie concerns the trial of Williams, and analysis of the funky Savannah townspeople.
If this sounds a bit vague, good. Vagueness is exactly what Eastwood has cursed this movie with. The book, a non-fiction account of the Williams case and the resulting four attempts to try him in court, was a colorful portrait of one of the most bizarre murder cases in Southern history, as well as a very funny commentary on the hoi polloi of Savannah society. It worked through the facts as they happened and mixed in social commentary as much for comic relief as for story drive. Now, Eastwood has treated all that like a mere gumball. He's chewed the story down to fit the big screen, all the flavor's gone, and we're left with 180 minutes of jaw-aching boredom.
The four trials are condensed into one. One of the more colorful background characters, drag queen diva The Lady Chablis, is elevated to co-star status, and becomes one of the witnesses at Williams' trial, something that never occurred in any of the four actual trials. The citizens of Savannah that Eastwood felt compelled to include as background spice all act star-struck, looking like cable-access TV hosts.
I was so looking forward to this movie, y'all. Savannah has always been a favorite spot in my fair state. It's a city like no other, full of eccentric pride, but still the Queen of the South. Anybody who grew up here has heard about the Williams case, and the trials, and the wonderful book John Berendt wrote. And, to be quite honest with you, there's not too many of us now who are even happy this movie was ever made. Not because of the factual differences, not because of the HORRIBLE Southern accents used by everyone who is not Southern by birth (note to Hollywood: We do not all sound like Scarlett O'Hara, you morons. Come listen for yourselves before you put the accent onscreen).
What bothers me the most is that Eastwood made the whole story so danged boring! Cusack and Spacey are usually two of the most watchable actors around, but here, they look strangled and washed out. Gone is the wonderful facial work and sarcasm of Cusack. The brilliant Spacey is only a memory here, replaced by a performance as flat and stereotyped as an LP. And, allow me to state for the record, The Lady Chablis is a drag queen, not an actress. Not by a long shot. I still wonder what RuPaul could've done with the role. The attempt to turn this story into a courtroom drama was a pacing crime, a murder more heinous than the one related onscreen.
The most disappointing thing of all is The Clint Man's directorship. I was all for his Oscar win for Unforgiven -- a brilliant piece of work, one of the best Westerns of the past thirty years. He managed to make something watchable out of The Bridges of Madison County, one of the more insipid best-sellers ever. His brooding style was perfect for Bird. Here, though, it looks like he was more interested in a long vacation in the city than making a movie. His choice to pepper the cast with local non-actors hurts, his choice to use The Lady Chablis was loyal but misguided. The person he hired to be the dialect coach ought to be shot. And, ultimately, Eastwood's legendary low-key directing style drags his actors down rather than frees their genius. There is only one really admirable scene in the entire movie. A quick scene with Spacey and Law, as they lie on the floor of Williams' study, is a brilliant piece of spookiness and quirk that grabs the spirit of the book with both hands. But, when it's over, all we're left with is the wonder of what might have been.
I offer this advice for the holiday weekend. Don't choke your dinner down so you can bumrush to the cineplex for Midnight. The turkey on your table is going to be infinitely better than the turkey on the screen. Go buy a copy of the book and read a great story. Then, when Midnight hits the HBO circuit, learn how wrong the movie really is.
Copyrighted image courtesy of Warner Brothers.
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