Adaptational Incompetence

My computer is having… issues with the charger, so I am working on a different computer. I don’t know how this affects my writing output; I’ll be doing my best, but I don’t know if I can write as much the next few days as I work this out. As such, we’re counting words on Saturday Note and Fun Facts for the word count total for the day.

Not that you guys keep track of these things, but it’s happening.

I am currently playing Assassin’s Creed: Origins, and I have Egypt on the mind, so I was tempted to talk about Egyptian myth or a fantasy based on Egyptian history/mythology. But instead this occurred to me (it came up in conversation recently).


Adaptational Incompetence

One of the most famous examples of a change in characterization from the book to the movie adapting it comes from the film adaptation of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. In the relevant book scene, after Harry’s name has been expelled from the titular cup, Dumbledore calmly asks Harry if he put his name in the Goblet (he is too young to be a competitor in the tournament). In the film, Dumbledore instead pins Harry against the wall and angrily demands to know if he had done this. As Asher-Perrin points out in this Tor recap, the point of this change isn’t born out of ignorance of the scene, but instead to show Dumbledore as someone incredibly invested in Harry’s safety. He’s upset because it shows that he cares; in the book, he DOES care, but he’s able to emotionally detach himself enough to decide he wants to see how this plays out. And again, as Asher-Perrin points out, in the film he doesn’t know what to do about the situation, and it’s Snape who suggests waiting to see what happens, rather than Dumbledore deciding to do this on his own, on the spot.

Now I realize that Harry Potter is controversial right now, but that’s the most famous example I can think of this flip of characterization. Just about everybody on the Internet knows about this change. But it’s a common thing to see in adaptations, if you ever stop and think about it: in order to show a more emotionally satisfying or charged scene, the writers of the adaptation make the characters less thoughtful, less clever, less patient, and very often, less competent all around.

[Order of the Phoenix also has a good example in the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort–in the book, Dumblydore effortlessly counters and blocks all of Voldy’s attacks, whereas in the movie, he’s barely keeping up.]

A movie or television show is a visual story, one that condenses a lot of what goes into an adaptation. To make visually appealing and memorable scenes, as well as giving the actors a lot to do with their performances, the makers HAVE to do big, loud moments. The resulting changes mean that you have to give something the audience will remember.

Part of why I’m thinking about this is that the new season of The Witcher features Sigismund Dijkstra, Redania’s spymaster, more than the last season. In the past season, his introductory scene, that establishes him to the audience, has him walk into the room where the King of Redania is hanging out with his buddies and about to drink. Dijkstra throws a knife into one of them, and makes the other take the drink–which turns out to be poisoned. They were planning to assassinate the king, and he took them out! This shows that he’s ruthless, deadly, and able to suss out the danger in seemingly harmless people, unlike the clueless king who needs him to keep functioning.

Except… if he was really a good spymaster, these two would never be in the same room as the king unsupervised. They’d be dead in a ditch, and the king would be going about his day without a clue that he was ever close to getting murdered. It makes a very memorable scene, and shows off what we’re supposed to think, but it indicates that the writers don’t know how to more subtly tell us that this guy is good at his job–which they should, because the man’s job IS subtlety.

[I’m reminded of my dad’s whole thing while watching Law & Order: “If I were the boss of these guys, they’d all be fired.”]

Or another fantasy example: The Lord of the Rings. These are still amazing movies, don’t get me wrong. But there are scenes in which you see the characters trying to work things out which are patently obvious. It’s not treated as a twist that Sauron is targeting Minas Tirith, but it is treated as if it’s valuable intel they didn’t already know. Except… it’s the capital of the most powerful kingdom of Men, one that has historically opposed Sauron, and it’s also right across the way from Mordor. Yeah, of course Sauron wants to take them out first chance that he can. That’s a ‘duh’.

This is a dramatic moment, and gives the audience a chance to be told about Minas Tirith and its significance right before we see it. But in-story, the notion that no one realized that it was Sauron’s game plan? That’s just silly. Again, that’s not so egregious, and in this case it’s not treated as a twist as much as valuable intel.

There is a balance that’s needed if you’re writing scenes–if characters are meant to be intelligent or competent, they can’t be making rookie mistakes for the sake of memorable moments. Adaptations will sometimes have to fudge this because you have to convey the information quickly to the viewer in a visual way. But it’s incredibly frustrating when that way is done by… making the characters dumber or not as useful as their written counterparts.

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