Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay I have always been fascinated by films that are based on stage plays. To be clear, I tend to be a sucker for a good musical, but that is not my focus today. (Perhaps in a future blog? 😊) Instead, I want to reflect on and examine multiple film adaptations of theater productions in an attempt to understand what is it about this subgenre of movies that tends to stand out from the others. What makes a mediocre stage play a bad film and (sometimes) a decent stage play a great film?
Let’s find out together, shall we? I have chosen to focus on a select few movies that I have either watched recently, watched awhile but ago but which left an impression on me, or that I grew up with and find myself thinking about several years after the fact. So, without further ado… On Character I had high expectations when I sat down to watch 1989’s Driving Miss Daisy. I had heard only good things about the film, specifically its star performances by Jessica Tandy and Morgan Freeman. And I have yet to come across a Freeman performance that I did not like. So, were my expectations met? For the most part, yes. While this film was not as compelling as I had hoped, I was certainly entertained and invested in the parallel journeys of Miss Daisy Werthan and Mister Hoke Colburn. In my opinion, Driving Miss Daisy relies initially on the natural curiosity of the viewer as to why Miss Daisy is so uptight about being driven around by Hoke. The film certainly takes its time acclimating us to the passive nature of Hoke trying to connect with the crotchety, standoffish Miss Daisy. But, during the second act, it clicked with me why this film works as an exploration of finding love through friendship. [SPOILERS TO FOLLOW] On her way to church, Miss Daisy learns that her synagogue in in Atlanta has been bombed and is in utter disbelief of how anyone could do such a thing. It is Hoke that has to remind her of the realities of prejudice by relaying the story of his childhood friend’s father who was killed by lynching. Tandy plays it very well when she fiercely objects to any sort of commonalities between the two situations. And yet one sees in her face the reluctant admittance of just that. For me, this was when I realized why this film was effective. As it goes on, it becomes less about the tensions between an old Jewish widow and her African-American chauffeur and more about the growing bond between them. Not only do they see themselves as the target of prejudice in a racist, anti-Semitic time and place, but over the course of the film they realize how much their own lack of self-confidence about who they are is reflected in the other’s experience of prejudice. I think that Driving Miss Daisy, while my least favorite of the four films that I will be discussing today, has something to offer when it comes to understanding what is vital to do when adapting a stage play to the big screen. Character is key; like any form of storytelling, if the audience does not buy into the flaws, personalities, quirks, and journeys of the characters than the audience will (more often than not) lose interest swiftly. I plan to revisit Driving Miss Daisy at some point in the future, but not anytime soon. Nevertheless, it is a worthwhile film that shows how pivotal compelling characters are to telling a good story either on stage or in film. On Storytelling A solid grasp on presenting compelling arcs for interesting characters, however, is only one piece of this “stage-to-screen” puzzle. In order for a film to show that it understands how to balance the best of the theater and the screen, it must have an essential element central to its presentation: a good story. My favorite film of the four I am talking about today (although perhaps not the best, objectively speaking), is the 1993 coming-of-age crime drama A Bronx Tale directed by Robert De Niro and adapted from Chazz Palminteri’s one-man show (Palminteri also wrote the screenplay for the movie). I have always been a fan of a good gangster flick. (lookin’ at you, Goodfellas!) But I have yet to see another one in this genre that is able to do what A Bronx Tale does. To put it simply, it finds a way to both embrace and transcend the tropes of gangster films and coming-of-age films in order to tell a compelling story. That story is about young Calogero, or “C,” growing up in the Bronx in the 1960s while being torn between two father figures: his biological father Lorenzo (De Niro), and local gangster Sonny (Palminteri). I certainly have a soft spot in my heart for this film, as it was one of the first gangster movies I remember watching with my father because he insisted I had to watch it with him. I remember laughing during some of it, but at such a young age I remember mostly being utterly absorbed by the dramatic tensions explored by De Niro and the actors themselves. This film was one of the first that showed me the complexities of prejudice in the real world, and just how impressionable young people can be when they unconditionally trust the adults in their lives. I feel unqualified to answer the question of whether or not this film is the best stage-to-screen adaptation I have ever seen. But I can say without question that it is, and always will be, one of my favorite films of this style. While it certainly is the one of the four films discussed here that feels least like a stage play, it is by no means hampered by such an approach. Rather, you can watch it without ever thinking how it was translated from stage to screen because (not knowing its production, of course) you could never even consider such a possibility. And, in my humble opinion, that is one of the best traits of this kind of movie. On Cinematography Released in 2011, Carnage is to-date the last English-language film of Roman Polanski. It is based on the play Le Dieu du carnage (“God of Carnage”) by French playwright Yasmina Reza, and tells the story of two pairs of parents whose children were involved in a physical altercation and decide to try and settle the matter themselves through a civil, mature, and adult discussion. However, as time goes on and things between the four of them get more tense, it becomes clear that these four people have more on their minds than just the well-being of their children. One day, I may write about my impressions of Roman Polanski as a filmmaker. But, probably not because most of his movies failed to resonate with me on any sort of meaningful, emotional level. And, to be honest, even Carnage was not the most heart wrenching, tense, or powerful film I have ever seen. However, I thought it was a fascinating approach to adapting a one-set stage play. My recollection of watching Carnage is not one filled with emotional investment in the characters’ personal struggles and flaws. Nor is it one defined by a love for the themes being explored by Polanski and his take on Reza’s story. Instead, I think mostly about the way that the film’s cinematography does such an excellent of capturing the claustrophobia, “in-your-face” atmosphere necessary for this play to be pulled off on the screen. This achievement can be credited to Pawel Edelman, whose thirty-year career includes my favorite Polanski film (2002’s The Pianist) and one of my favorite musical biopics (2004’s Ray, starring Jamie Foxx). Almost every single shot within the apartment of Penelope and Michael Longstreet (played by Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly, respectively) is either close-ups of the characters faces as they express their anger, frustration, guilt, and depression, or corner shots to show just how small the space that the actors are working with is. This type of cinematography, for me, evoked what I was supposed to be feeling throughout the film’s 80-minute runtime. A sense of frustration on behalf of the Longstreets and their guests, Nancy and Alan Cowan (played by Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz, respectively). A desire for these four seemingly capable adults to just set aside their own assumptions about each other and let their better angels prevail. And, towards the end of the film, a longing for all of them to shut the hell up so that their children can resolve their differences without their parents so haplessly intervening on their behalf. It will never be the most impressive stage-to-screen adaptation that I have seen. But, Polanski’s Carnage did its job in showing me the kind of impeccable, important work done by cinematographers on pictures like this to simulate the stage both for the purposes of realism and visual and spatial exploration of theme. On Conflict Of the four films I am discussing today, this last one undoubtedly feels the most like a theater production. Fences, the 2016 Best Picture nominee based on the 1985 Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning play of the same name by August Wilson, is a master class in translating the stage to the screen. In short, it balances everything that makes live theater so engrossing with the advantages of filmmaking. In other words, it embraces conflict in both its craft of storytelling and in its design to pull off an incredibly human tale. Viola Davis and Denzel Washington carry the emotional weight of Fences as wife-and-husband duo Rose Lee and Troy Maxson. Washington’s Troy is a severely flawed man with a brash temper and a chip on his shoulder about never making it to Major League Baseball before the color barrier was lifted in 1947. He constantly argues with his son Cory over the latter’s desire to seek out recruiters for a college football scholarship, and the resulting tensions greatly strain his marriage with his wife. Davis’s Rose Lee is a woman who has given up any notion of dreams of her own, sacrificing all she is for her family. However, Troy betrays her trust which causes her to question the legitimacy of their relationship and her chosen path in life. And yet, it is Troy’s damaged relationships that somehow keep his fragile family ties from disintegrating entirely. Needless to say, Fences has the heart and character one desires out of any good film let alone a well-translated theater production. But, similar to Polanski’s Carnage, the film has a tremendously impressive understanding of space, atmosphere, and editing that both clearly emanates and expertly transcends the confines of the stage. Thanks to the efforts of Denzel Washington (who also directed the film), Fences is quite possibly an enigma. When I saw it for the first time, I could not stop thinking about just how the cast and crew were able to balance the stage and the screen to the point of making what is, in my humble opinion, a modern masterpiece of filmmaking. I could say so much more about this movie, but instead I just want you to watch it. Trust me, you will not be disappointed. So, what do I think makes a perfect stage-to-screen adaptation? My answer will never be limited to one specific quality. Rather, I find the diverse approaches to these types of films to be more intriguing than anything. But, ultimately, I think adapting stage plays into films can be viewed like adapting anything else: it must have compelling characters, an enticing narrative, some top-notch technical work, and the exploration of the human experience that all great films have. What are your favorite films based on stage plays? What stage-to-screen adaptations did I not talk about that you think deserve some attention? Which of my opinions about these films do you find utterly misguided or moronic? Let me know in the comments below. Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst
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Austin McManusI have no academic or professional background in film production or criticism; I simply love watching and talking about movies. Archives
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