This week marks 29 years since the CFS was involved in an exciting foot chase at college, the circumstances of which should elicit sympathetic nods from this blog’s vast readership. Because who among you hasn’t spent a long evening drinking beer before attempting to pilfer a painted bed sheet (“Welcome Dorsey Dolls!”) hanging from a freshman dorm to use as a slipcover?
It’s no easy thing to successfully adapt a beloved piece of literature into an equally satisfying movie. Whereas a book can meander, a movie depends on a certain tightness of structure to keep its running time and budget manageable. Which is why audiences familiar with a particular book often leave the theater grumpy that certain scenes, plot lines and characters have been discarded. On the flip side, a movie adaptation can be too slavish to its
Back in 2004, director Steven Spielberg decided the time was ripe to remake the granddaddy of all hostile alien narratives, H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds, the 1898 serialized novel telling the story of a Martian invasion as seen through the eyes of an unnamed narrator based in Surrey and his younger brother, based in London. This would be quite a departure for
As with any narrative art form, crafting a satisfying ending to movie is a tricky proposition. Even the strongest works can fall victim to a last few minutes that don’t quite follow through on the promise that preceded them. And while I don’t think a weak ending totally ruins a good movie, it certainly can leave you feeling a bit cheated. One such example, for me, at least, involves