Читать книгу From Page to Screen / Vom Buch zum Film - Группа авторов - Страница 21

Albeit it may seem a recent breakthrough in adaptation studies, the cultural/contextual angle has been part of the field for decades. According to Elliott (2014: 577), during the 50s, scholars like Asheim already pointed out the relevance of culture and contextual factors such as the industry and the audience in the eventual shape of film adaptations. Although the 70s, the 80s and part of the 90s were dominated by formalist theories, the mid-90s witnessed adaptation studies veer again towards context and its implications; in this vein, the research conducted by Cartmell, Whelehan, or McFarlane were paramount to cement the bond between the discipline and cultural and contextual theories (Elliott, 2014: 577–578).

Even if their approaches may differ in some tenets, scholars like Casetti or Hutcheon continued to intertwine the analysis of film adaptations and the myriad of elements forming their production backdrop (Elliott, 2014: 580–582). Theirs and other studies helped consolidate and expand the bibliography that turned the traditional balance of forces around in order to foreground the impact of cultural and contextual approaches, as formal aspects were backgrounded and embedded under the umbrella of the aforementioned perspectives. As Elliot (2004: 238–239) demonstrates by dissecting a number of adaptations from Victorian novels, the time of production, ideology, and cultural conceptions among other factors influence even those films that “pursue a hyperfidelity” to the original material. Therefore, adaptation could be defined as “a phenomenon of recontextualisation of a text, or, even better, of reformulation of its communicative situation” (Casetti, 2004: 83), which is why attention should be shifted to the dialogue between text and context, an element that could be branched into the context of production and the prospective context of reception.

The importance of these two items pinpoints a crucial and necessary component already underscored in previous passages: the film industry. In the case at hand, this agent is embodied by Hollywood and its influence in the final product. To some extent, Hollywood’s approach to literary adaptations tallies with French auterists’ tenets: film adaptation is a way to democratize literature and a means to make it reach a wider audience (DeBona, 2010: 4). According to DeBona (2010: 5), the mainstream American film industry, either consciously or unconsciously, resumes Bazin’s seminal concept of “mixed cinema” together with some of its pillars. In like vein, Hollywood tends to craft a digest of the original that galvanizes its acceptability by watering down some of the aesthetic complexities included in the source text. This florid description hides but a commercializing strategy that seeks to widen the potential scope of the product, oftentimes supplemented with the ancillary changes that might be made depending on the specifics of the prospective audience.

This is where film genre plays, in our view, a major role. It is not within the purposes of this chapter to delve into the heated debate triggered by potential definitions of film and literary genre, nor to advocate a particular position in this unrelenting discussion. To explore such issues, we recommend readers to turn to the way more substantive works by scholars like Altman (1984), Bennet (1990) or Browne (1998), among others. Even at risk of being criticized for its apparent simplicity, the present paper will rely on Grant’s (2007) ideas to craft a straightforward definition of film genre. Thus, the following pages will conceptualize “genre” as a group of films that shares a number of common elements, addresses spectators in a particular manner and intends to offer a specific range of experiences and emotions to the audience (Grant, 2007: 4). The significance of the prospective receivers posited by this definition dovetails with some of the ideas in the previous passages and with the particular genre in which Matilda is going to be framed: family films.

In accordance to the definition of genre introduced before, Brown (2013: 2) portrays the “family film” as “a feature-length production explicitly designed for the joint consumption of adults and children, and received as such”. Even if family films encompass very different subgenres (musicals, action films, comedies, animation), they can still be understood as an overarching category that embraces diversity as it charts a map where structural, ideological, and emotional commonalities can be pinpointed (Brown, 2012: 11). According to Brown (2013: 2–4), the concept “family film” stems from Hollywood’s decision (compelled by the adoption and entry into force of the Motion Picture Production Code) of limiting and dimming adult content as they started targeting family audiences previously overlooked by the topics and tone that permeated most movies in the first breaths of the post-sound era. From that moment onwards, family films have evolved in several ways, but most of these transformations were guided by an identical purpose: welcoming and appealing to an extensive audience formed by different generations and age ranges.

The inclusive and constantly expansive nature of this genre, together with the need to keep pace with social changes and communal tastes, makes it take myriad forms, especially from the early 80s onwards (Brown, 2012: 165). Thus, family films oscillate between the kindness, humor, and suburban trifles portrayed in Mrs. Doubtfire (Garces Williams et al., Columbus, 1993), the antics and mischief of a horde of little monsters named Gremlins (Finnell, 1984) and the impressive, high-on-special effects fratricidal battles between robots in Transformers (Di Bonaventura et al., Bay, 2007). Despite this transparent variety, Brown’s (2012) research on the genre proves that family films are prone to merge, not necessarily at once, certain customary features: a very limited (or total absence of) gore and sexual content, recurrence of humor and love, pedagogical bottom lines, happy and optimistic endings, fast-paced narrations, reliance on emotion and sensorial appeal, or the presence of fantastic and magical elements to name only a few. In addition, Brown (2012: passim) underscores that they also tend to share a series of underlying messages (the importance of family and friendship, good clearly overcoming evil, love as a driving force of human behavior) and purposes (fostering family unity, having a good time, relaxing, and escaping from daily routine).These and other traits can be slightly different depending on a decisive factor to understand the history and shape of family films: age rating.

The relationship between the film industry and these labels has changed over the years. For instance, Brown (2012: 193–194) affirms that in the 60s–80s period, the R rating (no children under 17 allowed without supervision) was positively perceived both by producers and consumers, so several films were written and shot to fit in this category. However, the content conveyed in these movies limited the breadth of the prospective audience; consequently, the 90s and the turn of the century witnessed an aim of growing standardization in the (low) levels of harshness and explicitness displayed by family films. Against this backdrop, age rates like PG (parental guidance is advisable) and PG-13 (parents strongly cautioned; inappropriate content for children under 13) gained traction while R-rated films became progressively less important in most-watched movies lists (Brown, 2012: 193). The result has been an even more encompassing notion of “family entertainment” that has rocketed the potential addressees and economic gains of any product presented under a family-friendly light (Brown, 2012: 193–194). Since most regular moviegoers are teenagers and young adults (Williams, 2012: 220), age rating seldom becomes a serious problem. However, scandals like those triggered by the allegedly tolerant rating of films like Gremlins or Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, led Hollywood to draw a thick line between pre-teen spectators and older audiences in order to strengthen the protection of young children (Antunes, 2017: 2–4). In this vein, films that were considered rather innocuous in the 80s would now immediately qualify for a PG or even a PG-13 rating.

In addition, we shall not forget that the current context of reception of these types of films has torn down continental and transoceanic borders. American productions are now consumed globally and in consequence, the all-inclusive nature of the genre should be achieved with a kaleidoscope of preferences and inclinations in mind. As Brown (2012: 3) describes, one of the main objectives of family films is to reach global audiences by delivering products that blur differences beyond ages and generations to overcome other divisive labels like race, gender, or religion as well. This implies a careful consideration of the acceptability patterns that apply not only in the context of production, but also in a variety of potential contexts of reception worldwide. Consequently, age rating overprotective tendency is also informed by global distribution and commercial expectations overseas.

Both in the origins of the family film and in its most contemporary versions, literary adaptations have been an essential piece to build the backbone of the genre. From Little Women to the Harry Potter saga, The Lord of the Rings, or The Chronicles of Narnia (Brown, 2012) several productions have attempted (sometimes for good, sometimes for ill) to take stories from the page to a screen most families worldwide can comfortably sit in front of. As stated in the introduction, Dahl’s writing has recurrently drawn the attention of film directors and screenwriters, and Matilda, one of his most acclaimed and influential works, could not be an exception.

However, the film is in fact “exceptional” in several ways, including its inception. As it will be argued in upcoming sections, Matilda has indeed passed through the sieve of Hollywood’s apparatus in order to become a more commercial product that triggers the emotions spectators will expect to find in this sort of production. The film was age rated as PG, which basically implies that it should be accessible to unaccompanied children of any age, albeit parents should keep in mind some scenes may trouble younger or more sensitive infants. Consequently, we can see that some of the features and edges of the book outlined in the introduction have been either adapted or smoothed to craft a more palatable film for the audience it intends to reach.

Nevertheless, some aspects that, considering the current state of affairs in this regard may not match the standards of a PG family film, have been included in DeVito’s adaptation of the book. Albeit he eventually crafted a toned-down version of Dahl’s story, this did not prevent Mara Wilson, the protagonist, from feeling a little scared when she first read the script or mothers from leaving the theatre with their children before the film was over during its first screenings (Vilas-Boas, 2016).

This apparent challenge of conventions and assumptions illustrates a tug of war between the studio and the will of Dahl’s relatives. As Swicord (Vilas-Boas, 2016), one of the screenwriters of the film, states in an interview, after the release of movies like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) or The Witches (1990), Dahl did not want another of his works to be adapted. Some of the changes made in the original stories upset the Welsh author, and he was extremely reluctant to let characters like Matilda “go on screen” (Pirnia, 2015). Any attempt to make an adaptation of Matilda should therefore meet two requirements: maintain the essence of the original and have the approval of the author’s family, something Swicord and Kazan got after working for free on the script for a whole summer (Vilas-Boas, 2016). The film was eventually shot, but this story transcended the category of an anecdote and operated as a constraint that partly shaped the final product. As our subsequent analysis will show, Matilda flouts some generic and rating maxims in order to achieve a delicate balance between commercial aspirations, specific genre features, and a compulsory fidelity to the source funneled through the decisions of the screenwriters, which were in turn strongly determined by the expectations of the author’s next of kin.

The clash between the studio and Dahl’s family regarding the level of faithfulness the film should show helps bring up another controversial concept that has underpinned adaptation studies since its first steps as a nascent discipline: fidelity. Grosso modo, fidelity could be defined as “the extent to which a given aesthetic object – traditionally, in adaptation studies, a film – reflects a faithful understanding of its source – traditionally, a literary text, especially a novel, play or short story” (Johnson, 2017: 87). Rarely has a concept so central in the forge and discussions of a discipline arisen such a heated rejection by many of the scholars working inside its margins. One of the foundations of the criticism against fidelity studies can be found in Bluestone’s pivotal work Novels into Film (1957: 4–5) where he challenges old truisms (like the apparently indispensable replication of the spirit of the text in the motion picture, or the assessment of the quality of the film according to its parallelisms with the book) in order to address adaptation as a process of mutation conducted in a media that follows different narrative patterns than those of literary works.

Subsequent scholars like Naremore and Murray (as cited in Johnson, 2017: 91–92) built on Bluestone’s ideas, seeking to escape the anchor of fidelity to explore new horizons that include points of focus like the roles and influence of the film industry, the commercial apparatus, or the prospective target audience among others. But either as a pervasive point of return or as the elephant asking for more popcorn in our living room, fidelity has hovered over a vast quantity of the research historically conducted on film adaptation. In fact, albeit some scholars consider it a long gone controversy, fidelity is still a topical issue some academic circles have revisited and used as a platform for current research. Relatively recent works such as Kranz’s and Mellerski’s (2008) or MacCabe’s, Murray’s, and Warner’s (2011) compendiums of essays evince this fact, even if contributions advocate for a nuanced approach that welcomes and encompasses several aspects beyond faithfulness.

That said, the present paper does not revolve around the dual construct created by “faithful” or “unfaithful films”. On the contrary, it understands an adaptation as a product in its own right that “replicates but does not repeat” (Casetti, 2004: 83), that mutates and is shaped by the influence exerted by the macro and micro-agents that may be involved in the process: the new media of representation and its constraints, the film industry, the context of production and reception, ideology and culture, directors, screenwriters, or spectators, among others. In like vein, building our analysis on a comparison between the two products does not imply aligning our work with fidelity studies: our purpose is not to present (in)fidelity as something necessarily positive or negative, but rather to analyze modifications both in contextual features, the main topics addressed, and in Matilda’s characterization according to those parameters extensively discussed throughout this theoretical framework.