Adapting a classic novel to the screen is a treacherous task. Even when you do it right, die-hard fans will always find something to complain about.
“Her dress isn’t as pink as it was in the book”, one forum post will say.
“Why was my favourite line removed!”, etc…etc.
Often they are right. It is rare that a classic book becomes an equally memorable film. This certainly isn’t the case with the latest reboot of Brighton Rock by screenwriter/debut director Rowan Joffe (The American). In fact, Joffe’s remake asserts itself as an adaptation with little faith in its own ideas or the intelligence of its audience.
Brighton Rock was the first novel Graham Greene wrote after converting to Catholicism. At its core it explores two competing worldviews, with Greene creating characters who live life for ephemeral pleasure and characters who circumscribe their behaviour for a higher power to which they ultimately report. It is this central struggle between humanism and religion that drives the novel. Sounds heavy? It is a little, but Brighton Rock was also a kickass thriller. Greene took the audience experience seriously and crafted a seedy and strange noir thriller that aimed to excite without forgetting the ideas that propelled it.
There are now two film versions, which might be two too many for Greene who was never a fan of the movies made from his work. John Boulting’s excellent 1947 film sticks closely to the source material (Greene co-wrote the screenplay). Rowan Joffe’s attempt hits Australian cinemas this month, and Greene would have good reason to seethe. Relocating the action to the swinging sixties and taking a butcher’s knife to the narrative, Joffe crafts a handsome looking film, which unfortunately lacks the weight of substance.
It is difficult and perhaps unfair to look at Joffe’s film without first examining the context of the original source. One of the most interesting aspects of Greene’s novel and Boulting’s film adaptation was the way the ideas were explored through the protagonists Ida and Pinkie. These characters, a bar wench and a Catholic sociopathic gangster, were shocking for the era. They leant a controversial and edgy angle to their use as symbols for an ideological discussion- Ida for Humanism and Pinkie for Catholicism. Greene and Boulting played with the idea that a character like Ida, with such contrary values to the mainstream (of the time), could claim or at least vie for moral superiority over a Catholic man, even a deranged one like Pinkie. Their alien outrageousness as characters allowed the right amount of distance for the audience to see them for the ideas they represented and for Greene to critique them to his liking.
Ida in 1947 (Hermione Baddeley) and Ida in 2010 (Helen Mirren)
Adapting the book for a contemporary audience, Joffe certainly doesn’t have this element of controversy with the characters. Audiences, along with society, have changed through the decades, in anticipation of this perhaps, Joffe moves the action forward in time and pursues more rounded characterisations. In the case of Ida, he positions her as the dogged hero of the story. He also changes the narrative. Fred Hale is now an old lover of Ida’s and not a one-time acquaintance. This bestows on Ida a stronger reason to search for justice when he is killed. Unfortunately, it also neuters the idea that she is driven by a sense of human responsibility. In Joffe’s vision she is simply seeing through what is ‘right’ for a friend and as played by a competent, but completely miscast Helen Mirren (The Queen), she is a modern feminist heroine. Mirren projects such innate authority that it is impossible for an audience to criticise her actions in the way Greene wanted us to.
Greene and Boulting both poked fun at Ida’s personal crusade for Fred. After all, she only knew him a couple of hours. By strengthening her character’s connection to Fred and by making Ida such a relatable, infallible personality, Joffe removes the tension in the dynamic between the humanist ideas her character represents and those of Catholic Pinkie.
Pinkie in 1947 (Richard Attenborough) and Pinkie in 2010 (Sam Riley)
But where is Pinkie’s Catholicism in this adaptation? Despite a few minor references, Pinkie’s (Sam Riley, Control) religion is sidelined. When he marries Rose, the consummation of their corrupt union entails Pinkie pawing violently at her crotch. This is definitely not a trait of a virginal catholic boy who is terrified of sex.
These changes needn’t be a bad thing. It is understandable that Boutling’s interpretation of Ida would not fly post feminism, or even in a film set in the 1960s. The problem is that changing Ida and Pinkie essentially mutes what Greene was trying to explore and Joffe fails to find another way to present these complex ideas. Instead of the film functioning as a springboard to an exploration of ideology, the narrative is simplified- Pinkie is bad and Ida is good.
Rose in 1947 (Carol Marsh) and Rose in 2010 (Andrea Riseborough)
An aspect of complexity and substance does shine through in Andrea Riseborough’s performance. Riseborough’s Rose isn’t the shy, innocent wallflower of Boutling’s earlier film. When she screams at Pinkie for refusing to make a recording for her, the audience is privy to the depths of her own reckless neediness, and the lengths she will go to satisfy it. The contrast between good and evil and right and wrong may be lost in the characters of Pinkie and Ida in this new adaptation, but this conflict of ideology does occasionally spark up in Rose, whose choice to love Pinkie despite acknowledging his evilness is a poignant example of religious morality meeting true love.
Watching this adaptation, one wonders what Joffe hoped to achieve. He has stated a desire to remake the novel, not the original film, but his changes remove most of the ideas that drove both. One can only assume that he thought a contemporary audience would not want to engage with the meaning/s of life. But his lack of faith in the ideas, and his favouring of stylistic flourishing is troubling. This film is indicative of a recent trend of dumbing down material for a supposedly stupid movie-going public. What some filmmakers don’t seem to realise is that complex ideas are still relevant, they just have to find the right way to show us.
