Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Golden Compass, Among Other Things
The thing about movies made from books is that there are really only two choices. They either have to be fantastically done, adoring near slavish versions of the original texts - Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter - or they have to be completely different from the book, sharing only the titles - Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Mary Poppins, The Witches of Eastwick. The latter approach, as we can see from age of the titles, seems to be out of fashion. This is a pity because, look, if you're going to fuck the whole book up and add a lot of stupid exposition and a new, happy ending with a completely unconvincing, out of character inspirational speech, of all gruesome things, then just go whole hog and make a damn new movie that can then be good or bad on its own. As it is, you fucks, while I grant you that the movie was visually totally stunning and utterly gorgeous and all that, the rest of it made me unhappy.
In other news, there is no other news. M is going to be here this weekend, hurrah, yay, and I might just possibly go bowling tonight.