The Adaptation Obsession
Posted by Craig Mazin on 21 Oct 2008 at 10:55 pm | Tagged as: The Craft & Trade
The trend seems inescapable. Studios are obsessed with adaptations. The movie business, which used to be powered by original screenplays, is now concerned mostly with converting pre-existing works into films. If it isn’t a comic book, graphic novel, book, foreign film or video game, well…no one’s interested.
That’s the conventional wisdom, at least.
But is it true?
I don’t have any statistics to back the claim up, but let’s stipulate that everyone’s gut sense is true: studios are more motivated to fund adaptations than they are originals.
It’s nothing new, of course. Movie studios have always chased best-sellers and Broadway musicals, but as culture grows around itself, the movies inspire books that inspire movies that inspire musicals that become CD’s that become movies.
That’s how John Waters can write an original film called Hairspray that becomes a musical called Hairspray that becomes a film of the musical called Hairspray.
Fair enough.
But why are the studios so attracted to adaptations?
Here are some theories (with attendant debunking).
Adaptations Have Marketing Advantages
Competing for eyeballs has become a bloodsport in our culture, and if your movie is based on material that has already planted its flag in the audience’s brain, you can draft behind that awareness. Of course, this theory doesn’t explain the entire obsession, since many adaptations are of yet-to-be-released novels or extremely obscure comics.
Adaptations Are Easier To Create
Writing something new is hard, you see, whereas adapting a pre-existing work into a screenplay is like a cakewalk. Easier for the studios, easier for the writers.
Except that’s pretty much never the case. Movies often differ wildly from their source material, and the process of taking something that wasn’t written to be a movie and turning it into something that is can be brutal and, occasionally, impossible.
I’m a huge fan of the graphic novel Watchmen. I cannot fathom how the screenwriters managed to adapt all that material in a satisfying way. That’s an extremely high degree of difficulty.
Adaptations Do Better At The Box Office
That seems plausible. Think of all the huge hit films from comic books alone. The only problem is that it’s apparently not true. According to Variety, when you look at the top 20 films from each of the last ten years, you find that movies from original screenplays (and their sequels) actually earn more than adaptations! Don’t believe it? Well, consider The Matrix, all the Pixar films, the Austin Powers movies, Meet The Parents, Rush Hour…even our lowly little Scary Movie series.
So if it’s not money earned, then…?
Adaptations Are Cheaper To Make
Well, that just doesn’t seem very likely. Sure, big original spec sales like the one for Deja Vu can cost a pretty penny, but so can buying out the underlying rights to a bestseller.
So what’s left?
Maybe the dreaded psychological explanation?
Adaptations Feel Less Risky To Make
I’m sure everyone who read The Matrix thought it was a fantastic screenplay. That’s not the Big Question. The Big Question is…should you make it or not?
I’m happy that I don’t have to make those decisions. Not my problem. But for those who do, I suspect that there’s a comfort in making adaptations that goes beyond even the fact of the so-called “built in audience” (which often isn’t really built in).
No one would argue that there’s a natural human tendency that connects “belief in” with “realness,” and I think people view underlying material as more real than screenplays.
Why?
Books aren’t written to be movies. They’re written to be books. Same for plays and graphic novels and epic songs and video games. They are their own ends. They are, for better or worse, completed works of art.
Screenplays are not. Screenplays are transitional art. They are a theory, an imagining…but of something else.
I’ll argue that studios and producers are occasionally seduced by the notion of adaptation because it grounds them and their risk in something that is very real and permanent.
Does that make sense? No, not particularly, but I’m not here to pen jeremiads against irrationality. We are all irrational to one extent or another. What matters more, I think, is how to navigate the predictable currents of bias when we encounter them.
Hollywood will always buy original scripts. I don’t think they’ve gone completely out of style. Still, given the predilection for source material, more and more screenwriters are doing something very bold and very smart.
They’re writing their own.
My friend Larry Doyle, for instance, had a story for a very funny screenplay, but no one was jumping at it.
So he wrote the very funny book first. And, somewhat predictably, once it was real, he was hired to adapt his novel into the screenplay he had intended to write in the first place.
The movie is coming out next spring.
My former writing partner did something similar. He and his partner wrote the manuscript for a graphic novel, sold it to a publishing company, and then turned around and sold the film rights to Ben Stiller’s company, where they are writing the script.
I think you’re going to see this more and more. Don’t get me wrong: it’s not required. And there are still plenty of smart producers and executives who know a great original screenplay when they read one.
But…if your material is offbeat or challenging or not “instantly gettable” as the town so often desires, consider this another path. The psychology of the buyer doesn’t always make sense, but just as it’s capable of working against you…
…there’s no reason to think you can’t turn it around and make it work for you.
IMO the Marketing Advantages have a lot to do with it. A film that shares its title with a TV show or novel has a built-in audience of fans of the existing property, and that non-zero baseline, however small, is probably attractive to producers.
As you wrote, this doesn’t really apply to adaptations of very obscure or unwritten works (unless the original authors are not obscure), but I would put those in a different category from things like The Notebook or Get Smart. There may not be any universal explanation.
Craig –
I personally think you hit it on the head with your first and last explanation. When someone buys an adaptation, they are buying a product that has already been tested and already made an impact in the marketplace. It’s like what’s done with a lot of D2DVD projects: there’s a lot more enthusiasm behind The Mummy VII than behind (insert original screenplay title).
Looking at it from a producer’s role, I can’t blame them. It really doesn’t make financial sense to take a leap on an unknown quantity when you can tap into an existing demand and then grow its potential. Even if the statistics show that original screenplays will rake in the big money, that’s like betting on black-eight every time.
I have a different theory. The fact is, it’s hard to read a screenplay. That is to say, it’s hard to read 100 or so pages of text and effectively extrapolate from it two hours of actual people fighting, fucking, and running from lethal crop dusting biplanes in Illinois farm country. The great producers and executives of old who had those skills are few and far between. So today’s screenwriters are forced to adopt strategies which make it easier for the–frankly–witless readers to envision the movie that can be made from their scripts. Two such strategies are:
One, create scripts which are novelistic in their descriptions of character and action. Shakespeare’s longest line of stage direction was “exit chased by a bear.” You think you could get away with putting that in a screenplay in 2008? Today you’d have to put in a whole page of the guy walking in the woods, hearing a twig snap behind him, walking some more, and then SUDDENLY HE TURNS AND 800 POUNDS OF DROOLING, STINKING DEATH CRASHES DOWN ON TOP OF HIM (etc). I’ve actually gotten notes from low-level execs asking me to punch up my descriptions before he submits it to the next guy up the ladder.
Two, create a graphic novel so the dummies don’t have to actually translate words into images–you’re doing their work for them by, basically, giving them the movie’s storyboards. Next thing you know, screenwriters will actually have to produce the finished movie BEFORE the suits will buy the script–which, to a certain extent, is already happening: it’s essentially the premise behind the Sundance Film Festival.
Thanks for that. Great analysis. Oy.
David Benioff’s fabulous career also owes itself to a book (The 25th Hour) that he then wrote the screenplay for. Since then he’s sold on spec (Stay), sold a pitch (Troy) and written on assignment (Kite Runner, the Kurt Cobain project, etc…).
Here’s the difference between an original screenplay and an adapted screenplay:
If the screenplay is based upon an underlying property which rights the studio controls by dint of a copyright licensing/transfer agreement or because they are in the public domain — adapted screenplay.
If the screenplay is based upon an underlying property which rights the studio controls by dint of a work-made-for-hire agreement — original screenplay.
-Ted
What if the studio wants you to adapt a public domain property, but they don’t contractually assign it to you?
They say to you, “Hey, we’d like you and Terry to write a movie version of the Sodom & Gomorrah story,” but they don’t specifically put “based on The Old Testament” in your contract.
I think it’s considered an original.
In other words:
They want to do a movie version of [a famous historical event, myth or legend], but they do not want the screenplay to be based upon an account of the [famous historical event, myth or legend] that has been previously published or produced.
Rather, they want the screenplay to be based upon a new account of the [famous historical event, myth or legend] created as work-made-for-hire.
Which is exactly how I defined “original screenplay.”
Go back and re-read the Variety article. Notice that they consider the sequels to the THE MATRIX to count as “originals” — even though they were inarguably based upon underlying property that had been previously produced, and even though they carry the screen credit “Based Upon Characters Created by …”
How is that possible?
Because the studio that produced the two Matrix sequels controlled the rights in the underlying property by way of a work-made-for-hire agreement.
“Original screenplay” and “adapted screenplay” denote the legal disposition of the underlying property (characters, or character and plot = story) upon which the screenplay is based.
-Ted
I guess I’m quarreling with your phrasing above where you suggest a company can control a work because it’s in the public domain.
I certainly understand the enthusiasm for proven properties — books, plays, graphic novels and comic books with a built-in audience. What I DON’T understand is the wisdom behind buying the rights to a book that has not even been published yet. Or, at the most, is barely off the printing presses and out in bookstores, with no sales track record as of yet. What am I missing in your analysis? What are the studios gaining by buying a book that has not even been proven in the marketplace yet — instead of simply buying an original screenplay? If this is a trend, I really do want to understand it. Thanks.
Tina:
If a well-connected producer like, say, Scott Rudin reads an unpublished manuscript and loves the story, loves the characters, thinks it can be a terrific movie…why not buy the rights right then and there?
Part of it is simple competition. If you can buy an exciting book first before anyone else, then you potentially win (assuming the movie does well). Part of it is economics. Buying a novel before it becomes a huge best-seller is one way you might be able to save yourself some dough.
I’d like to think that if I had read Silence of the Lambs before it was published, I would have done whatever I could have to purchase the film rights to it. A great story is a great story, whether it’s yet sold or not.
Craig: Thanks for the reply. But I realize I was not specific enough. Based on your friend Larry’s experience — and considering Hollywood’s appetite for adaptations — you suggest it might be wise for a writer to take that great idea and turn it into a novel first, rather than an original screenplay. Not a bad idea based on the above — but because the two writing disciplines are so disparate, I think it would be hard for someone who is used to only writing screenplays to just dive right into writing narrative fiction with a great degree of success. So of course a great story is a great story, published or not, sold or not — the issue is this: considering the time it might take a screenwriter to master that very different form of writing — to make that great original idea a terrific, page-turner of a novel — would you still recommend this as a way to go?
Tina:
If you want to write and sell a screenplay, give it a go. If you’re having trouble getting a bite, only then is it worth considering writing a novel and going that route…unless you prefer to write the story as a novel.
It’s really up to you. And, of course, there’s no guarantee that anyone will want your novel any more than they wanted the screenplay.
Craig: Thanks, this clarified things for me: “If you’re having trouble getting a bite, only then is it worth considering writing a novel and going that route…unless you prefer to write the story as a novel.” I have made a pretty good living writing and selling scripts for the last ten years, and was lucky enough to have a movie made from an original screenplay. But it does seem to be harder than ever out there — for a number of reasons — so I appreciate your perspective on this. I asked because writing a novel is so different and I don’t have the skill and practice at that as I do in screenwriting. It would be a huge undertaking to go the novel route. But you bring up a good point, so maybe it’s time to exercise those narrative fiction-writing muscles, just in case a script I love doesn’t sell! Thanks for the replies, and the example of Larry’s novel and subsequent script sale.
For many years, I wrote movies and TV shows. After the last TV show I was working on got cancelled, I decided to make my next project a novel instead of a screenplay — partially because it’s a contemporary fantasy and movies of that type are usually based on pre-existing material, but mostly because I wanted people to actually read it.
Like most screenwriters, I’ve written a ton of movies that never got made and it’s always a little heartbreaking, because you put so much work and love into the thing and then, if it doesn’t get made, it just sort of disappears. Now that I’ve had a couple books come out (the Nightmare Academy series), I’m really sold on the idea of writing novels in addition to screenwriting. Even though my book series was purchased by Universal, I get a lot of satisfaction from knowing that it exists as a novel and people can read it even if the movie doesn’t get made. Plus, it’s nice to have your work be the end product (for once) and not just a blueprint for something else.
And, as for Tina’s question about it being hard to move between writing screenplays and writing narrative fiction — they are a bit different but storytelling is, ultimately, storytelling. Oddly enough, the biggest trouble I had moving from screenwriting to prose was dialogue attribution (which you never do in a screenplay) and remembering that it was okay to include your character’s thoughts.
Anyway, I’ve really enjoyed it for reasons other than purely commercial considerations and I’d encourage people to give it a shot if it’s of interest. And I love your site, by the way. Never posted before, but this topic was close to my heart.
Dean Lorey:
Good on you for making the jump. I myself am noodling on a novel right now in between all the other deadlines, so it’s slow going, but fun. And yeah, it is a bit odd remembering to write “he said” and so forth.
Anyway, glad you enjoy the site.
Dean: awesome post. Thanks for sharing an experience that was both personally and professional fulfilling. Just to clarify: I don’t think the difficulty lies so much in going back and forth between screenwriting and writing narrative fiction but in not having written in one or the other discipline in a long, long, looong time! But your and Craig’s posts are a good reminder of this avenue … and of the creative rewards inherent in that choice.
Great post, but I think you missed a big piece of the puzzle, which Steve partially touched on:
Screenplays are far too limited in their ability to tell a cinematic story.
Films adapted from comic books derive a lot of their cinematic power from visuals, cinematography, and direction. A screenplay for these films will always lack what is arguably the single most important element for a comic-book film’s success. Without an accompanying graphic novel or storyboard or cartoon, it is simply unreasonable to expect a producer to see the potential.
With a play, the expressions and delivery of actors is critical to the audience’s ability to engage in and feel the characters. The writer’s words can never capture the nuances of thought and emotion that an actor can evoke in a split-second. I highly recommend a googling of “mirror neurons” for anyone who wants to understand film as a medium.
With a novel, one can at least parse out ornate visual descriptions over the course of 200 pages — descriptions that would fall flat if they were jammed into the minimalist structure of a screenplay. With a novel, even in the absence of actor’s expressions, one can still express the inner life of characters by delving into their thoughts and feelings.
With a spec screenplay the writer must tell the bulk of the story with two rudimetary tools: 1) dialogue that works with a monotone delivery 2) simple visuals that can be completely captured with a few words.
Many great films simply do not work well on the page. Sometimes reading the recipe isn’t enough to know what the final result will taste like.
This also a big part of the reason why successful directors have so much power. If a producer can not see the final result they can at least have faith that it will be good, given a director who consistently delivers.
I wish that long ago I had come to understand this very painful fact. If you want to sell a spec you must write the best screenplay and not the best movie.
This is the part where I get flamed for saying the screenplay isn’t as important as we think.
Reagan:
If you had sad that the screenplay isn’t as important as we think, then sure, I’d be the first with the flamethrower.
But you didn’t.
I agree with your point. Screenplays contain less information than, say, an illustrated screenplay. And screenplays contain less information than a typical novel. No doubt about it.
That doesn’t mean that the screenwriter doesn’t possess that information, or at least much of it. I mentally “watch” every scene I write.
And that brings this article to mind: http://artfulwriter.com/?p=191
Craig:
Good luck with your novel. It’s sort of freeing, isn’t it? I’m sure Larry Doyle can answer any publishing questions you might have, but feel free to give me a shout if you like. Take care…
Eh, at this rate, we’ll both be in the Motion Picture home when I’m ready.
Thomas Whiteside wrote a long, 3 part series in the New Yorker called “The Blockbuster Complex” — back around 1981. In it, he delves rather deeply into the psychology of how and why adaptation vs. original is such an important part of acquisition rituals at studios.
It originally ran under the “Onward and Upward with the Arts” section.
And thanks for the b’day greeting. Automated or not, I wuz touched.
Great blog youse twos.
Hi, all. I found the blog and comments fascinating as I have done just that with my script/novel.
I wrote a screenplay which got interest and, by way of something to do, went on to write the novel. The book sold first (in Germany, and Japan at least) and the film is now on International release (www.marcello-movie.com) with the book out in UK today (www.marcellosdate.com).
The best part of this process for me was moving from book to script in the early stages. As I redid one, I was able to add some of those changes into the other, therefore polishing both at the same time. It’s a great way to ‘feel’ if something’s not working in either medium.
Of course, at some point they had to part company inevitably, as both are different mediums and had to be treated differently. But the overall process was really useful, especially as a first time script/novel writer, as I was.
On the flip side of the adaptation issue are the novelists and comic writers/artists. I went to an MFA program with a number of aspiring literati, and even those who eschewed pop culture and rolled their eyes at the mention of television began to drool at the concept of a film option. They flocked to the theaters when a novel adaptation came out, especially based on the work of a ‘literary’ writer. When some of the MFA crowd was published, there was general excitement. But when someone’s novel was optioned, there was even more enthusiasm.
Film has become the true literature of our time, and it’s seen as a final validation of almost any creative endeavor. Those surly comic aficionados who like to play the role of the slighted artistic stepchildren are gleeful when a big budget film of their favorite work hits the screen, even if they do eventually insist that it doesn’t measure up to the original work.
I’m wondering if part of the equation is the fact that artists in all narrative mediums are producing work with the concept of cinematic adaptation somewhere in their brain, maybe even in the subconscious.