Archive for the ‘Adaptation’ Category
Screwball Conventions: The Comedy of Errors and Courtships
Screwball [pronounced skrue’bol] is a noun that means unbalanced, erratic, irrational, and unconventional, in which became a popular slang word in the 1930s. It was applied to films where everything was a juxtaposition: educated and uneducated, rich and poor, intelligent and stupid, honest and dishonest, and most of all male and female. When two people fell in love, they did not simply surrender to their feelings, they battled it out. They lied to one another, often assuming indifferent personas toward each other. They often employed hideous tricks on each other, until finally after running out of inventions, fall into each other’s arms. It was fossilized comedy, physical and often painful, but mixed with the highest level of wit and sophistication, depending wholly on elegant and inventive writing. ~ via Modern Times
My introduction to such subgenre of comedy is very recent, and for someone who openly discloses his affection for romantic comedies, it is indeed a blissful discovery. In the last two weeks I have seen more films that I usually do in a single month, and my enamored admiration for the classics has never been as vigorous as it is now, and that what has led me to write this post in the first place. Truth to be told, however, is that I have had to truncate my original draft in order to make my exposition more concise and piercingly focused. You should grasp the matter of consistency that pervades the films that I have selected for my discussion below, as I try to elucidate meticulously their differences as well as their similarities. The bigger portion of the discussion will be reserved to what I believe is the quintessential screwball comedy, and that is The Philadelphia Story.
Aboard the Microcosmic Boat
“You’re only thinking of yourselves,” cries the devious, hulking Nazi to the others passengers of the lifeboat during a vertiginous typhoon sequence, “you’re not thinking of the boat.”
That line best highlights Lifeboat‘s maxim, Alfred Hitchcock’s World War II film, which points to the cause for all of the dangers to follow. That the “enemy” utters that line made it particularly indignant in 1944 (when critics lashed out at Hitchcock for his unpatriotic portrayal of Brits and Americans), and perhaps it still resonates today: we (as in anyone who’s not a Nazi) may have rallied together, expressed our contempt after the many hours of history lessons, and deservingly ridiculed the Nazi regime to great measures but, since then, we’ve certainly become more petulant, materialistic, and egotistical than ever.
The funny question in all of this is who would’ve pegged Hitchcock for a moral humanist? Certainly not me. I would like to believe that my universal humanism is more intricate to be correlated with a man whose métier was the psychological horrors that distort the glam of the American/British bourgeoisie. But I digress, though I’d like to acquiesce with the the selective consensus that, despite the film’s lack of technical excellence, this is probably the most characters-driven film within the director’s voluminous canon.
A Year in Reading – 2009 Edition
For me, 2009 was a great year as an avid reader despite the dark times and despaired thoughts that engulfed me in the bulk of it (an experience that I rarely share with anyone). I think the reason I was able to survive my own dejections is due to the great journeys these books have embarked me along the way. It was a form of escapism that I was able to receive something out of it at the end, and it was quite profound, quite personal. Of course, not every book listed here is bound to fit your literary flavor, but I must say that I don’t regret anything I have read so far, except perhaps a book or two. For now, you’ll also have to accept two or three sentences condensing my thoughts regarding each book, as I really don’t have the time to discuss all of them in detail. I hope that I’ll continue building a better library as this year goes by and I hope that you do too.
Quickies: A Confederacy of Dunces – La Moustache
- Book: A Confederacy of Dunes by John Kennedy Toole
“A Confederacy of Dunces” is an unusual novel that follows the exploits of the rotund, indolent Ignatius J. Reilly, who lives with his indomitable mother, Mrs. Reilly, in New Orleans. For years, Ignatius has lived off of his mother and her welfare checks. Then it happened: Mrs. Reilly plowed her car into a building, and to pay for the damages, she demands that the supercilious Ignatius should get a job, several in fact. Before he knows what has happened, Ignatius finds himself at the center of a worker’s revolt and the common share of several ingenious characters. It is here that John Kennedy Toole‘s sense of humor flourishes, which is either side-splittingly funny or merely quaint, usually exhibited by his keen ability to write in various dialects and recreating witty caricatures of popular stereotypes that comprise the individuals that populate this story. Yet, it is Ignatius that proves to be the most fascinating. He lives in his own egocentrically warped world, and he constantly strives, and fails, to force those he meets to confirm to his worldview. Ignatius is not a likable character, but it is hard to ignore him. He is so obnoxious, arrogant, and self-righteous that he becomes a walking farce that it is impossible to take your eyes off of him. “A Confederacy of Dunces” is not your typical novel; what it lacks in plot is more than made up in farcical vignettes, intriguing characters, vivid imagery, and unforgettable dialog. I ardently place it as one of the most important books in Southern literature.
A Revolutionary Insanity
In the midst of egotism, self-denial, social conformism, and self-made delusions that seem to pervade a large sum of Richard Yates’ Revolutionary Road, the voice of reason seems to lose its echo among all the society’s hypocrisy. Yet, Yates’ commentary manages to be carried out by his characters, even though their selfish acts often overlap their criticism of the American’s suburbia of the 1950s. Frank and April Wheelers, the young and frustrated couple regrettably harbors little affection for each other just as much they dislike their hollowed existence in the estates of Revolution Road. They recognize that their youth is withering away on meaningless and unfulfilling prospects that rarely provide incentive to incite self-worth.
November BoRT: The Implications of Modern Prometheus
“Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus: by Mary Shelley is considered by many to be the first science fiction novel ever written. That makes it the perfect title for our first Literary Design Challenge BoRT. Many attempts to translate Frankenstein to other formats have fixated on the science of bringing the monster to life, but the book itself doesn’t focus on this aspect at all. Instead, it examines what it means to produce life and the impact that has on those who comes are directly and indirectly involved with the process.”
Two years ago, when I took Major British Writers class in college, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus was included in the syllabus as a required reading. On the first day we began discussing the book, my professor began the lecture on lamenting those who referred to the Gothic novel only by its first name. He stressed that referencing the book without its subtitle didn’t foretell anything imperative about its premise, particularly since Frankenstein and his monstrous creation were indecently profuse in their pop culture manipulations.
