by Linda Seger
to Peter
Table of Contents
Title Page
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION - TURNING FACT AND FICTION INTO FILM
PART ONE - WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?
1 - WHY LITERATURE RESISTS FILM
THE IMPORTANCE OF THEME
BUILDING UP DETAIL
THE WORK OF THE NARRATOR
THE REFLECTIVE VOICE
THE NOVEL AS INFORMATION
TIME MOVEMENT IS FLUID
POINT OF VIEW
SUMMARY
CASE STUDY: Field of Dreams
2 - WHY THEATRE RESISTS FILM
THEATRE: AN EXCHANGE BETWEEN ACTOR AND AUDIENCE
THEATRE IS THEMATIC
THEATRE EXPLORES HUMAN-CENTERED THEMES
THEATRE CAN USE ABSTRACT SETS AND SPACES
THEATRE USES FLUID SPACE
THEATRICAL DIALOGUE: EXPLORING IDEAS
CHOOSING THE PLAY TO ADAPT TO FILM
CASE STUDY: Driving Miss Daisy
3 - WHY THE TRUE-LIFE STORY RESISTS FILM
CHOOSING A WORKABLE STORY LINE
CREATING DRAMATIC ORDER
THE TRUE-LIFE INCIDENT
WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR?
BE CAREFUL
CASE STUDY: Reversal of Fortune
4 - FROM FILM INTO FILM
WHAT QUALIFIES AS A REMAKE?
CONTEMPORARY SIGNIFICANCE
CONTEXT
THE STORY LINE
THE VALUE SYSTEM
BE CREATIVE
CASE STUDY: Fatal Attraction
PART TWO - CREATING THE SECOND ORIGINAL
5 - FINDING THE STORY
THE ELEMENTS OF A GOOD STORY
LOOK FOR THE CLIMAX
IDENTIFY THE CATALYST
IDENTIFY TRANSITION SCENES
SEPARATE THE STORY LINES
EXPLICITLY DRAMATIC STORY LINES
FINDING THE STORY ARC
INTENTIONALITY
LOOK FOR SCENE SEQUENCES
BUILDING UP THE CLIMAX
LOOK FOR THE IMPLIED SCENE
INTEGRATING PLOT AND SUBPLOT
CHANGING PLOT TO SUBPLOT
RAISING THE STAKES
KEEP THE STORY SIMPLE
PINPOINT TIME CHANGES AND CHRONOLOGY PROBLEMS
WHEN THERE’S NO STORY
CASE STUDY: The Phantom of the Opera
6 - CHOOSING THE CHARACTERS
FIND THE MAIN CHARACTER
DEFINE THE CHARACTERS’ FUNCTIONS
CUT CHARACTERS
COMBINE CHARACTERS
CHOOSE SYMPATHETIC CHARACTERS
LOOK FOR CHARACTER DETAILS
IDENTIFY THE CONFLICT
IF YOU LOVE THEM, KEEP THEM
APPLICATION
7 - EXPLORING THE THEME
FINDING THE THEME
METHODS FOR IDENTIFYING THE THEME
TRANSLATING THEMES INTO FILM
FINDING THEMES IN TRUE-LIFE STORIES
NONFICTION MATERIAL BASED ON AN IDEA
APPLICATION
8 - CREATING AND SHADING STYLE, MOOD, AND TONE
DEFINING STYLE
RECOGNIZING THE MOOD
RESPONDING TO THE TONE
SHADING STYLE, MOOD, AND TONE
HOW DOES THIS APPLY TO FILM?
BALANCING STYLE ELEMENTS
WHAT’S THE STYLE OF YOUR SOURCE MATERIAL
SET UP THE STYLE IMMEDIATELY
INTEGRATING THE STYLE
MORE THAN JUST STYLE
APPLICATION
SUMMARY
PART THREE - TWICE TOLD—TWICE SOLD
9 - OPTIONING A STORY
WHAT CAN YOU OPTION?
AN OPTION VERSUS A SALE
WHEN IS A WORK IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN?
LEGAL LIABILITIES IF YOU DON’T OPTION RIGHTS
RESEARCHING PUBLIC DOMAIN MATERIAL
FINDING OUT WHO HAS THE RIGHTS TO THE STORY
WHOSE LIFE IS IT, ANYWAY?
CAN ANYONE GO AFTER AN OPTION?
RIGHTS TO A CONVICTED FELON’S STORY?
PREPARING FOR THE MEETING WITH YOUR SUBJECT
HOW LONG SHOULD THE OPTION BE?
HOW MUCH, AND WHO PAYS?
GET CREATIVE CONTROL
MISTAKES MADE IN OBTAINING RIGHTS
USING A STANDARD OPTION CONTRACT
HOW TO FIND A LAWYER
ERRORS AND OMISSION INSURANCE
AFTER YOU HAVE GAINED THE OPTION
10 - WRITING A DOCUDRAMA FOR TELEVISION
WHAT IS A DOCUDRAMA?
THE NETWORKS AND YOUR DOCUDRAMA
IS YOUR STORY FICTION OR FACT?
FOLLOW CHRONOLOGY IF POSSIBLE
USE THE FACTS YOU KNOW
USE TIME COMPRESSION TO TIGHTEN
GUIDELINES TO FOLLOW
HOW TO PITCH THE STORY
WHAT KIND OF PROJECTS INTEREST THE NETWORKS?
SUMMARY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY LINDA SEGER
THE ART OF ADAPTATION
AFTERWORD
WINNERS OF THE ACADEMY AWARD FOR BEST PICTURE - 1930-1990
WINNERS OF THE EMMY AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING MINISERIES AND DRAMA/COMEDY SPECIAL - 1977-1990
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX
Copyright Page
PREFACE
Have you ever noticed how many films are adaptations? Adaptations are the lifeblood of the film and television business. Think about how many of our great films come from books, plays, and true-life stories: The Birth of a Nation, The Wizard of Oz, Gone With the Wind, The African Queen, Casablanca, Shane, High Noon, and Rear Window, to name a few. Even the classic Citizen Kane was loosely based on the true-life story of William Randolph Hearst.
Most Academy Award- and Emmy Award-winning films are adaptations. Consider these amazing statistics:
• 85 percent of all Academy Award-winning Best Pictures are adaptations.
• 45 percent of all television movies-of-the-week are adaptations, yet 70 percent of all Emmy Award winners come from these films.
• 83 percent of all miniseries are adaptations, but 95 percent of Emmy Award winners are drawn from these films.
In any one year, most of the talked-about films will be adaptations. In December 1989 such films included Sea of Love, War of the Roses, She-Devil, The Little Mermaid, Henry V, My Left Foot, The Bear, Glory, Black Rain, and Steel Magnolias. Nineteen-ninety’s adaptations included Awakenings, Postcards from the Edge, Bonfire of the Vanities, Memphis Belle, Dances With Wolves, The Russia House, Henry and June, Reversal of Fortune, GoodFellas, Hamlet, Cyrano de Bergerac, The Grifters, and Misery.
These adaptations are not the exclusive domain of experienced writers and big-name producers. Many new writers have gotten their start as screenwriters by optioning a book or true-life story and insisting that they be hired to write the script. Barry Morrow (Rain Man) optioned the true-life story of Bill (a mentally retarded man), which went on to win an Emmy Award. Anna Hamilton Phelan’s first script, Mask, was based on the life of Rusty and Rocky Dennis (Rocky was a boy with craniodiphicil syndrome, a genetic disorder that causes severe distortions of the face). Brian Ross wrote a script on spec of a true-life story called A Friendly Suit, which has been optioned several times but has not yet been made. However, that script led to NBC’s hiring him to write two docudramas, Cast the First Stone and On Thin Ice: The Tai Babilonia Story. Leoni Sandercook got her start with the television movie A Season of Fear, again a true-life story. Kurt Luedtke wrote Out of Africa, his second produced film, partly because he was optioning a little-known but important book about Denys Finch-Hatton, which provided the key to making Out of Africa workable. Earl Hamner began his career by adapting his novel into a television series, wh
ich became the long-running The Waltons.
Many novelists look to film to give their stories a second chance and to increase readership. Million-dollar options are no longer uncommon among the most successful novelists. New novelists, as well, hope to see their stories turned into film, often writing specifically with an eye to movie structure and characters. Pete Dexter, who wrote the best-selling novel Paris Trout, sold the film rights to his book on the condition that he write the screenplay.
More and more executives and producers are turning to adaptations for their film material. Many of them say that it’s more commercially viable to do material that already has an audience. Others cite the paucity of good original scripts, saying that many scripts are derivative and unoriginal. But the cost can be high. Doing an adaptation means paying for the project twice—first to purchase the rights, second to pay for the screenplay. And the material needs to be evaluated twice: first the potential workability of the source material must be assessed; then it must be decided whether the screenplay is the best translation of the story.
Just as some of the greatest successes in films have been adaptations, so have some of the greatest failures. One adaptation, Heaven’s Gate, brought down a studio (United Artists). Another, Raise the Titanic, was responsible for the demise of Marble Arch Productions, a once strong and successful production company. Another, A Chorus Line, already had over a million dollars invested in rights before the cameras rolled. Yet in spite of a record run on Broadway, audiences did not come to see the film. Obviously, a great deal rides on doing an adaptation right.
Adapting from one source to another is a process. The Art of Adaptation is about how to do it. This book breaks down the process to guide writers, producers, film executives, and directors who struggle with the conversion of source material to films. It can also help novelists and playwrights convert their own works into screenplays (and from my experience of consulting with novelists and playwrights, I’ve discovered that most of them have that desire).
This book builds on the material in my first two books, Making a Good Script Great and Creating Unforgettable Characters. You needn’t have read them to be able to use this book, but if you’ve never written a screenplay, you will probably want to read some basic screenwriting books in addition to this one to guide you through the process (see Bibliography).
Most of the concepts in this book come from my own work as a consultant on a number of film adaptations, many of which are currently in development and some of which have been produced, such as Romero, about the archbishop of El Salvador who was assassinated in 1980; The Neverending Story II, based on the novel by Michael Ende; and Flowers in the Attic, from the V. C. Andrews book. Produced television adaptations include Pancho Barnes (about a woman aviator in the early days of flying), The Fourth Wise Man (based on the novella of the same name by Henry Van Dyke), and the Australian miniseries The Rainbow Warrior, about the New Zealand ship belonging to the pro-peace organization Greenpeace that was blown up by French government agents in July 1985.
Throughout the book I will be drawing on films that are well known to readers. All of these are available on video—you may want to rewatch some of them as you read the book.
If you want to return to the original source material, it can easily be found in bookstores and libraries. I have focused on fiction that I find enjoyable to read, hoping you will enjoy it too.
Most examples of novels and their film adaptations are drawn from Gone With the Wind, A Room with a View, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Deliverance. For examples of short-story adaptations, I refer to several that are found in the book No, but I Saw the Movie, edited by David Wheeler. I refer to such well-known plays and their film adaptations as Amadeus, The Little Foxes, Driving Miss Daisy, and The Visit; the latter was the focus of my dissertation project and the subject of a film in the 1950’s. My examples of true-life stories made into films focus on well-known people and on films that are easily found in a video store.
Whether you are a seasoned writer or a novice, I hope this book will help you clarify the key concepts that can make the difference between an adaptation that works and one that doesn’t—concepts that can make the adaptation as good as, or even better than, the original.
HOW TO USE THIS BOOK
This is a resource book. You don’t need to begin at the beginning and read it straight through. If you are currently working on an adaptation, you may want to begin with the Introduction, which gives an overview of the work of the adaptor, then move directly to Part Two, which contains practical methods for translating a work’s story, characters, theme, and style into film.
Part One will help you analyze your source material, so you’ll understand why problems arise. If you’re optioning material, you’ll want to study Part Three in order to protect yourself legally.
This is a practical book. I hope it will be useful at every stage of your adaptation.
INTRODUCTION
TURNING FACT AND FICTION INTO FILM
You’ve read the book. It was visual, cinematic. The characters were compelling, the story involving, the style entertaining. But the film didn’t work. Why?
You loved the play. It seemed like a sure thing for a film. Millions had seen it in the theatres, but audiences stayed away from the film. What went wrong?
Why is it that the worst failures and the greatest successes so often are adaptations? Why do some work and others don’t? Is it that the writers and producers don’t know their jobs? Or is there something intrinsic to the adaptation process that spells trouble?
In spite of what we may think, there is no such thing as an easy adaptation. We’ve probably all heard people say, “All you have to do is film the book.” Francis Ford Coppola tried that with the 1974 version of The Great Gatsby, and it failed. Others say, “This was immensely popular, it’s bound to be a blockbuster.” Bonfire of the Vanities was a best-seller, but the film was panned. Many writers and producers have undertaken a project that seemed to be a “sure thing,” only to fail after thousands—or millions—of dollars had been spent.
By its very nature, adaptation is a transition, a conversion, from one medium to another. All original material will put up a bit of a fight, almost as if it were saying, “Take me as I am.” Yet adapting implies change. It implies a process that demands rethinking, reconceptualizing, and understanding how the nature of drama is intrinsically different from the nature of all other literature.
The adaptor is much like the sculptor Michelangelo, who, when asked how he was able to carve such a beautiful angel, replied, “The angel is caught inside the stone. I simply carve out everything that isn’t the angel.” The adaptor is sculpting out everything that isn’t drama, so the intrinsic drama contained within another medium remains.
What do you need to do to make an adaptation work? What does the process include?
CONDENSE OR EXPAND THE MATERIAL
Very few original sources will be equal to a two-hour film. The six-hundred-page novel will be too long, the short story or newspaper article will be too short. The first job of the adaptor will be to figure out how to fit the original material into different time parameters.
Rarely does a film story begin and end where the book does. True, there are notable exceptions. The film Gone With the Wind begins with the first scene of the book and ends with the last scene of the book. More often, though, beginnings and endings are found within the body of the story. The book The Color Purple begins with the first incident of incest between Celie and her father, several years before the point in time when the film begins. The film Stand by Me ends eleven pages before the end of the novella.
The nature of condensing involves losing material. Condensing often includes losing subplots, combining or cutting characters, leaving out several of the many themes that might be contained in a long novel, and finding within the material the beginning, middle, and end of a dramatic story line. These choices can be frustrating, since writers sometimes need to give up sc
enes and characters they love in order to make the film work.
Cutting and combining characters helps condense an unwieldy novel into a workable form. In the film Gone With the Wind, you know the characters of Scarlett O’Hara, Rhett Butler, Melanie, Ashley, Aunt Pittypat, Dr. Meade, Prissy, and Mammy. If you read the book, you would be introduced to several other important characters, such as Archie, Will, and the governor. In the book, Scarlett’s mother, Ellen, was a very important figure whose values and kindnesses and images of what it meant to be a Southern lady served as both an example to Scarlett and as a reason for her considerable guilt about much of her behavior. Yet Ellen was rarely seen in the film. She needed to be sacrificed because of the length of the novel.
The work of adapting the short story demands adding rather than subtracting. Usually a short story has fewer characters than a novel, and they are in a simple situation, sometimes one without a beginning, middle, and end. In many short stories there are few, or no, subplots to complicate the action. Working with the short story demands adding subplots, adding characters, and expanding scenes and story lines.
Many of our best-known and best-loved films come from short stories. These include Stagecoach, It Happened One Night, All About Eve, It’s a Wonderful Life, and High Noon. One of my favorite musicals, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, came from the very charming short story “The Sobbin’ Women” by Stephen Vincent Benét.
“The Greatest Gift,” a short story by Philip Van Doren Stern that became the film It’s a Wonderful Life, revolves around a single incident: George wants to kill himself and an angel takes him back to see how life would be without him. The screenwriter used this incident, but expanded on George’s backstory and relationships. In “The Tin Star” by John M. Cunningham, which became High Noon, the main character dies at the end. For the film, relationships and a victorious ending were added.
For other film adaptations of short stories new scenes and situations were added to round out and develop characters and story line. In “Stage to Lordsburg” by Ernest Haycox (Stagecoach), the role of Ringo became a focus of the story, expanding the role for John Wayne. In the adaptation of “Night Bus” by Samuel Hopkins Adams (It Happened One Night), subplots were strengthened and filled out with detail.