I watched the first episode of Deadly Class this week (mostly because Lana Condor and Benedict Wong are in it), and combined with this Tumblr thread about about language translation, which culminates with:
it got me thinking about how any screen adaptation of a written or comic work is inherently transformative. The TV adapters make all sorts of decisions about things that aren't necessarily made explicit in the source text, such as soundtrack, set design, wardrobe, etc., in addition to how close to adhere to the source.
In the case of Deadly Class, which is based on a comic, they appear to be adhering to the source pretty closely, which is probably not surprising considering it started in 2014 and is ongoing. However, the comic (for reasons that aren't yet clear to me; I haven't read it, so maybe it's entirely explicable later) is set in 1987, which the TV adaptation gives nods to in the set dressing (tube TVs, some period-appropriate cars, some vaguely '80s-esque clothes, although they're mostly in school uniforms, so that barely registers), but doesn't really commit to the immersion, particularly in the soundtrack choices, which have been entirely contemporary, so when the references to Ronald Reagan being the protag's declared arch enemy come up, it seems jarring and anachronistic. Given that the protag also has some very '80s-based prejudices towards former patients of mental health facilities, the dissonance created is... not great. I feel like this was a case where they either needed to go hard on the '80s aesthetic or update the setting to modern day. Splitting the difference isn't showing anyone in a good light. (Except Lana Condor, who currently plays the only character I care about at all. We're only on ep 1, though; there's still time for them to say something boneheadedly wrong about her apparent yakuza roots.)
This is mostly reminding me of Marvel's misstep with their Netflix adaptation of Iron Fist, which they did (blessedly) modernize from its '70s roots... except for the decision to keep the protag white rather than Asian-American, which fans was clamoring for as soon as the project was announced. It would have done nothing but add depth, nuance, and interest to the character, not to mention give Marvel the chance to, you know, apologize for having such a tone-deaf character to begin with, but apparently staying true to the source material was only important when needed to excuse giving us a white dude into Asian mysticism. (And I say this as a white person who practices martial arts. His story isn't one we needed.)
The one instance I can think of where I was genuinely impressed with a movie adaptation recently was American Assassin, which was based on a novel series my dad found to be utterly mid-tier generic in the spy thriller genre (he read a lot of these and other series mysteries on business trips before he retired.) Because the movie had been in development for over a decade, the source material was now seriously dated, so, aside from characterization, they basically scrapped all source material plots and did their best to write a movie that delivered a Mitch Rapp who was relevant to current audiences. (They were possibly aided by the author being dead at this point, though apparently they had his wife's stamp of approval.) I was so worried when I saw the trailers, because it looked like it was going to be "guy pursues revenge fantasy against Middle Eastern terrorists" thing entirely, and then the story went in an entirely different direction. The villain was a disaffected former military white boy from Texas! The person I was seeing the movie with didn't really understand my glee at that, but I'd honestly gone in with such low expectations, and for once I was pleasantly surprised.
this in particular has bearing on more than just translation, but possibly in any adaptive or interpretive creative work:
knowing you're going to fail, you get to decide how to fail
which is actually quite freeing, once you think about it
it got me thinking about how any screen adaptation of a written or comic work is inherently transformative. The TV adapters make all sorts of decisions about things that aren't necessarily made explicit in the source text, such as soundtrack, set design, wardrobe, etc., in addition to how close to adhere to the source.
In the case of Deadly Class, which is based on a comic, they appear to be adhering to the source pretty closely, which is probably not surprising considering it started in 2014 and is ongoing. However, the comic (for reasons that aren't yet clear to me; I haven't read it, so maybe it's entirely explicable later) is set in 1987, which the TV adaptation gives nods to in the set dressing (tube TVs, some period-appropriate cars, some vaguely '80s-esque clothes, although they're mostly in school uniforms, so that barely registers), but doesn't really commit to the immersion, particularly in the soundtrack choices, which have been entirely contemporary, so when the references to Ronald Reagan being the protag's declared arch enemy come up, it seems jarring and anachronistic. Given that the protag also has some very '80s-based prejudices towards former patients of mental health facilities, the dissonance created is... not great. I feel like this was a case where they either needed to go hard on the '80s aesthetic or update the setting to modern day. Splitting the difference isn't showing anyone in a good light. (Except Lana Condor, who currently plays the only character I care about at all. We're only on ep 1, though; there's still time for them to say something boneheadedly wrong about her apparent yakuza roots.)
This is mostly reminding me of Marvel's misstep with their Netflix adaptation of Iron Fist, which they did (blessedly) modernize from its '70s roots... except for the decision to keep the protag white rather than Asian-American, which fans was clamoring for as soon as the project was announced. It would have done nothing but add depth, nuance, and interest to the character, not to mention give Marvel the chance to, you know, apologize for having such a tone-deaf character to begin with, but apparently staying true to the source material was only important when needed to excuse giving us a white dude into Asian mysticism. (And I say this as a white person who practices martial arts. His story isn't one we needed.)
The one instance I can think of where I was genuinely impressed with a movie adaptation recently was American Assassin, which was based on a novel series my dad found to be utterly mid-tier generic in the spy thriller genre (he read a lot of these and other series mysteries on business trips before he retired.) Because the movie had been in development for over a decade, the source material was now seriously dated, so, aside from characterization, they basically scrapped all source material plots and did their best to write a movie that delivered a Mitch Rapp who was relevant to current audiences. (They were possibly aided by the author being dead at this point, though apparently they had his wife's stamp of approval.) I was so worried when I saw the trailers, because it looked like it was going to be "guy pursues revenge fantasy against Middle Eastern terrorists" thing entirely, and then the story went in an entirely different direction. The villain was a disaffected former military white boy from Texas! The person I was seeing the movie with didn't really understand my glee at that, but I'd honestly gone in with such low expectations, and for once I was pleasantly surprised.