Film, Comics, and Translation
Oct. 30th, 2006 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sen_no_ongakuThere's a compelling trailer up for a film called Renaissance. Perhaps it will succeed where Sin City failed.
The more I think about it, the more I believe that the film adaptation of Sin City was a failure, in that it provides nothing that the comic didn't already have to offer, and exposes the comic's weaknesses as well.
Movies are fundamentally different than comic books[1]. Comics are heavily implicit media: the action takes place between the panels, in your imagination. The reader is a critical part of the creative process[2]. As well, the reader has some control over h/h consumption of a comic, dictating the pace of the action; h/s has the luxury of picking out the details in a particular frame, flipping back a few pages to check something, stepping back and pondering a monologue.
In contrast, movies are a heavily explicit and passive media, asking us to absorb and receive rather than digest, subjecting us to their pace.[3]
That's not to say that film adaptations of comic books shouldn't be made. It is crucial, however, to acknowledge that a direct translation is fundamentally impossible, that what works in one media will not necessarily be effective in the other. The writer and director have to decide how to preserve the essence of a work while understanding that it will have to be recast and reshaped.[4]
And so in light of this, the frame-by-frame faithfulness of Rodriguez's adaption strikes me as incredibly naive.
The comic itself is noteworthy mostly because of its exquisite stark black-and-white compositions; one of the movie's selling points was its tight adherence to Frank Miller's original vision, its recreation of what really is an incredibly beautiful comic.
I would argue, however, that its devotion to the original medium was the film's greatest weakness.
The reader's ability to meditate on and inhabit these miniature paintings, is key to the comics' impact. When translated to film, that ability is taken away and the images' impact is consequently diminished, maybe even eliminated entirely. And so we're asked to concentrate more on the stories themselves rather than the aesthetic quality of their presentation.
However, the sophistication of Frank Miller's illustrations belies his storytelling which, though undeniably polished and even moving, is relatively pedestrian. The stories (in Sin City, anyhow) on which Frank Miller's art are hung are fairly standard noir; bleak to the nth degree, but nevertheless rooted in and faithful to a very traditional narrative style -- and maybe a bit childish, even, with their thick lines between good and evil, lacking the moral ambiguity that marks the best examples of the genre[5][6].
It's this weakness that the reduced impact of Sin City's visual style forces us to focus on. And I think that's one of the reasons why (as I recall) many people I know felt disappointed, dissatisfied, or even sickened by the film[7].
___
(1)Duh. I know. Bear with me.
(2)Scott McCloud, Understanding Comics.
(3)Generalizations, yes -- many exceptions to both statements can be found -- but I think they're useful and relevant generalizations.
(4)By no means do I claim this is easy.
(5)Without the internal moral ambiguity, anyhow -- none of the protagonists seem to suffer any self-doubt at all. One can certainly quibble with the philosophy behind a world in which extreme violence is the only possible solution.
(6)It occurs to me that Miller missed a chance to pull off a really breathtaking sleight-of-hand, contrasting the stark black-and-white of Sin City's external world with the actual shades of grey within.
(7)Not the only reason, of course. See (5).
The more I think about it, the more I believe that the film adaptation of Sin City was a failure, in that it provides nothing that the comic didn't already have to offer, and exposes the comic's weaknesses as well.
Movies are fundamentally different than comic books[1]. Comics are heavily implicit media: the action takes place between the panels, in your imagination. The reader is a critical part of the creative process[2]. As well, the reader has some control over h/h consumption of a comic, dictating the pace of the action; h/s has the luxury of picking out the details in a particular frame, flipping back a few pages to check something, stepping back and pondering a monologue.
In contrast, movies are a heavily explicit and passive media, asking us to absorb and receive rather than digest, subjecting us to their pace.[3]
That's not to say that film adaptations of comic books shouldn't be made. It is crucial, however, to acknowledge that a direct translation is fundamentally impossible, that what works in one media will not necessarily be effective in the other. The writer and director have to decide how to preserve the essence of a work while understanding that it will have to be recast and reshaped.[4]
And so in light of this, the frame-by-frame faithfulness of Rodriguez's adaption strikes me as incredibly naive.
The comic itself is noteworthy mostly because of its exquisite stark black-and-white compositions; one of the movie's selling points was its tight adherence to Frank Miller's original vision, its recreation of what really is an incredibly beautiful comic.
I would argue, however, that its devotion to the original medium was the film's greatest weakness.
The reader's ability to meditate on and inhabit these miniature paintings, is key to the comics' impact. When translated to film, that ability is taken away and the images' impact is consequently diminished, maybe even eliminated entirely. And so we're asked to concentrate more on the stories themselves rather than the aesthetic quality of their presentation.
However, the sophistication of Frank Miller's illustrations belies his storytelling which, though undeniably polished and even moving, is relatively pedestrian. The stories (in Sin City, anyhow) on which Frank Miller's art are hung are fairly standard noir; bleak to the nth degree, but nevertheless rooted in and faithful to a very traditional narrative style -- and maybe a bit childish, even, with their thick lines between good and evil, lacking the moral ambiguity that marks the best examples of the genre[5][6].
It's this weakness that the reduced impact of Sin City's visual style forces us to focus on. And I think that's one of the reasons why (as I recall) many people I know felt disappointed, dissatisfied, or even sickened by the film[7].
___
(1)Duh. I know. Bear with me.
(2)Scott McCloud, Understanding Comics.
(3)Generalizations, yes -- many exceptions to both statements can be found -- but I think they're useful and relevant generalizations.
(4)By no means do I claim this is easy.
(5)Without the internal moral ambiguity, anyhow -- none of the protagonists seem to suffer any self-doubt at all. One can certainly quibble with the philosophy behind a world in which extreme violence is the only possible solution.
(6)It occurs to me that Miller missed a chance to pull off a really breathtaking sleight-of-hand, contrasting the stark black-and-white of Sin City's external world with the actual shades of grey within.
(7)Not the only reason, of course. See (5).
