Last week, I summarized the findings of the first ten weeks of reviewing adaptations/reboots/remakes (ARR, mateys). This week, in part to keep the length of the last week's entry a readable length and in part to build up my buffer, I'll be applying the findings to two different franchises.

First up, Jem and the Holograms. Surprisingly, this 1980s cartoon, which lasted three seasons, has not been remade, rebooted, or adapted. Considering that GI Joe had a movie and at least two cartoons and a number of comics, that Masters of the Universe had a movie and a reboot cartoon, and My Little Pony has been brought back in the form of new toys and a new series, someone has missed an opportunity.

A quick brainstorm (done on the bus, mainly) leads me to the following possibilities for an ARR:
– remake the cartoon as a new cartoon, same characters, just in the Teens instead of the 80s,
– reboot the cartoon, continuing from where it left off and ignore or even lampshade the new musical style and outfits, updating Synergy with more modern-futuristic tech,
– turn Jem and the Holograms into a virtual idol (since holograms are now doing such in Japan already), making the group into a real pop band,
– adapt the cartoon into a feature film, similar to /Spice World/ and /Josee & the Pussycats/,
– create a feature film that acknowledges the passage of time since the end of the cartoon, in a cross between rebooting and remaking, with a dash of adapting.

From the above list, the easiest is the first option. My preference, if I had a say, is the last option. It'd allow me to get some digs in at the music industry without taking swipes at certain celebrities' predicaments, self-imposed or otherwise. Jerrica would now be in charge of her studio, and has retired from performing. For some reason, she isn't legally able to perform, either as herself or as Jem. However, she can still write songs and misses being with her former bandmates and friends, who have scattered to the four winds after the Holograms broke up. Still, she feels that she has something she has to say, through song, and realizes that, while she can't perform, there's nothing preventing her from using a virtual idol to be her proxy. That's right, Synergy no longer transforms Jerrica into Jem; Synergy *is* Jem.

(Aside: This goes back to a discussion I had with Steve about Virtual Stars. If anything can launch a Virtual Star's career, it'll be this role. However, the movie can't focus on the Virtual Star. The movie is called Jem & the Holograms. We have to see the group, and Jerrica was the core of the original and should remain the focus.)

The movie would go on to show Jerrica searching for musicians for the New Holograms. One should be related to the lead of the Misfits, just to bring them into the movie. A new antagonist, a rival girl band, would be introduced. The musical styles of the New Holograms and their rivals should be distinct. As the New Holograms prepare for a battle of the bands, the original Holograms catch wind of what's happening and drop in to assist, setting aside old arguments for the sake of friendship. Evenutally, the climactic battle of the bands happens. Win or lose, the New Holograms remain together. At the end, though, the original Holograms sit down with Jerrica and play one of their classic songs as an acoustic, for their ears only.

Ideally, merchandising will occur. (Thanks, Rob, for mentioning this in your "Launch or Be Lunch" series.) The obvious CD/iTunes release, featuring songs performed in the movie, including the acoustic at the end, is obvious. Dolls (or action figures, or both!) of the New Holograms can be made. Hopefully, legal issues with the Virtual Star can be ironed out beforehand. (The Virtual Star's creative team may later want to produce merchandise of herself, too, so it'd be helpful to make sure that the Jem doll doesn't prevent a series of VS dolls, plushies, statuettes, and action figures.)

What could possibly go wrong? Well, lots. First, the above? Unless someone at Hasbro is feeling generous and adds me to the creative team for the movie, I'm better off writing that as a fanfic. Add to that, I would need to take a crash course in script writing (or have a few examples to work from or an assistant with a lot of patience). Then there's my lack of knowledge of the original cartoon; I want to respect the original, but without knowing who the characters are, I might as well create my own story with my own characters at this point. I will wind up with something that is Jem in name only. However, if I didn't care, well, I could have that outline easily expanded.

My next example is something I am far more familar with, being the creator. Back in 2000, I worked at an ISP as the phone firewall (read: tech support) for the DSL service. After a few months of working, I really wished that someone had created BttH over TCP/IP (that is, Boot to the Head over TCP/IP). Many callers really really needed one. It was a stressful job that killed my life and drained my soul. During this time, one way to combat the urge to smack people upside the head was to write about a character who would do just that. Subject 13 was born; a text-based comic featuring a 17 year old girl with a foul mouth and short temper who got the power to, well, hit people hard. After my contract wasn't renewed (and boy did that feel good a few hours later), I continued working on the storyline, changed the location, and forced the heroine to mature a little.

The first thing I have to figure out is format. The obvious format change is to make /Subject 13/ a comic; the premise involves super-heroes and a villainous organization that fits in alongside Marvel's Hellfire Club. (In fact, the S13-verse, as I sometimes refer to it, has expanded through various other projects to include a Teen Titans-like group, two powered armour users like Iron Man, and a foundation similar to FLAG from Knight Rider and the various Waybe charities from Batman. I have put a lot, possibly too much, thought into the setting.) Since super-heroics were the main thrust of the series, a comic is a perfect choice. The first "issue" could be easily compressed into three or four pages, showing how the main character, whose nickname is Nasty, got her powers and how she deals with the day to day. However, with Nasty's foul mouth and being in her own setting, the Big Two (Marvel and DC) are out (though DC's Vertigo line might accept her). Smaller, edgier companies are a possbility, as are manga-style lines from North American publishers. Or, as another possibility, Subject 13 could become a webcomic and not have to worry about the main character's vocabulary. The main problem, though, is my drawing skills. Specifically, the lack thereof.

In my wildest dreams, I could see the series being made into a TV show. Again, the big problem is the foul language. Too spicy for regular TV, and not enough sex and nudity for HBO. Of course, I could try turning the first arc into a movie, but I'd run into execs wanting a PG-13 movie to maximize the potential audience and the MPAA rating anything with excessive swearing (and Nasty is excessive) as an R. So, a proper movie is out, not without changing the main character too much. Animated, again, language, though a late night slot on a specialty channel could avoid the language issue. (And I could get my dream casting of Ricardo Montalban as the potentially recurring character, El Diablo Verde, a professional super-powered hitman. Really, when I was writing him, suddenly I heard Montalban's voice saying his lines.)

(Of course, I could just compile the issues into a book, either through traditional publishing or electronically. But, well, that means the example isn't an ARR. Still, not a bad idea. ^_^)

What could go wrong? As the original creator, I have a stake in seeing that the adaptation works. However, my lack of drawing skills and lack of experience in the business end of the entertainment industry are huge drawbacks. However, if I can find a willing artist, one who can work to a schedule so that we can build a proper buffer (me with writing, the artist with drawing) and find people with the right skills to build a webcomic site (and I do have the right contacts who can do that, thanks to previous experience running a convention), adapting Subject 13 as a webcomic seems to be the best idea. If there's enough of a following, a release of compiled strips, original stories not featured on the site, even an e-book of a NaNoWriMo story featuring Nasty and two other characters from the S13-verse are future possibilities.

Next time, a look into my mind. Be afraid.

Over the past ten weeks, I've looked at a variety of adaptations and reboots, most of which were successful to one degree or another. Most. In the successful cases, it is obvious that the main reason for the success was the care put into the making of the adaptation/reboot/remake (ARR for short). The care wasn't necessarily the only factor. Star Trek: The Next Generation had the luxury of not having a network watching over it, allowing the writers to explore more cerebral yet still interesting ideas. The Harry Potter franchise had the original creator (JK Rowling) maintaining some control over how Warner Brothers handle her creation. Casino Royale had a production company that respected the original work of Ian Fleming, who worked with Cubby Broccoli in earlier installments of the 007 franchise.

For the not-so-successful installments, the problems came from dashed fan expectations (The Phantom Menace and D&D 4th Edition). Note that both examples were still successful, at least monitarily. Fan reaction, though, was mixed. In the case of The Phantom Menace, some elements in the movie were not well received and others were caused by writing issues. With D&D 4th, a change in the core mechanics caused the fanbase to split. The game is very much playable, but earlier elements older fans came to expect had their importance diminished or were dropped completely.

Then there's Street Fighter. The movie had problems from the outset, adapting a fighting game, one that had an overall plot to the order of the fights, but the focus wasn't the story but the fighting. Adding to the problems were casting choices and a schizophrenic approach crossing between serious action movie and camp and back again. Yet, the movie is worth watching for Raul Julia alone, who seemed to know exactly what sort of movie he was in.

Based on the above, key elements to a successful ARR requires the original creators' input, a respect for the original material, and a respect for the fanbase. However, at times it may be necessary to place an editor in between the original creator and the adaptation, something The Phantom Menace needed and something /The Blues Brothers/ [link 10] did have. However, one subject examined, The Naked Gun brought up another criteria – format of the ARR. Of the first ten ARRs examined, four were in the same format as the original, five were from one medium to another, and one, "Number 7", was a parody/homage using the format of the original to tell its own story. The Naked Gun might be a textbook case of an adaptation finding the right format, going from TV series that needed full attention but might not get it to a movie that gets full attention.

Now aware of the new issue, let's take another look at the other four whose ARR that crossed media. Street Fighter started as a video game, became a movie. The change in media is actually a non-issue; the fairly simple plot – defeat M. Bison's minions in one-on-one martial arts battles throughout the world – is easily adapted to the silver screen. The movie cut out most of the prior battles, gave more depth to what M. Bison's evil plans were. Street Fighter's main problems were never really the change in format.

Harry Potter could have had problems, especially in the later books, as details were sacrificed to keep the films to a reasonable running time. The last book was split into two movies specifically as a result of the length of the novel. However, with Rowling working with the film team, this problem was avoided, though some plot-critical events were lost. The change in format was taken into account, though could have been a point of failure.

Casino Royale was both an adaptation of a novel and a reboot of the 007 film series. The movie counts as both a change and not a change in the format. The final result took some liberties with the original novel to make certain scenes more accessable to the viewing audience (for example, the change from baccarat to Texas Hold'em poker), but remained true to the spirit of the novel. Yet, it maintained the visual aspect of the previous 007 movies while showing Bond becoming the 00 agent we've seen. Casino Royale could be used as a showcase on how to both adapt and reboot a franchise properly.

The discussion for The Blues Brothers did take into account the change in format, but some retiration is deserved. The movie took a musical sketch from Saturday Night Live, one that lasted five to ten minutes, and expanded it to a feature film with a running time of over two hours, adding a plot, a background, a motive, and even antagonists for the main characters. As will be seen in the future, the difficulty of taking what could be a one-note gag and strethcing it is high and takes skill, something the writers, actors, musicians, director, and producer of The Blues Brothers had.

So, what makes for a successful ARR? Care in the translation ranks high. Having strong writing adds to the success. Having the original creator may or may not help. Doctor Who didn't have the original creator, but did have someone (Russell T. Davies) who wanted to see the show succeed and was aware of the show's history. Meanwhile, The Phantom Menace had George Lucas helming and writing, but fan acceptance is mixed. (Said acceptance seems to be age-based, too, based on a very small data set I've seen. Okay, mainly anecdata, but there may be a trend building that the younger set prefer the prequels to the originals. Your parsecage may vary.) Yet, Lucas obviously also wanted to see The Phantom Menace to succeed.

Unfortunately, I haven't reviewed enough ARR failures at this point to determine what doesn't work. So, be prepared. In the coming weeks, some bad adaptations will be looked at, for as long as my sanity prevails. To keep from delving too deep into the dregs of Hollywood (and other places), I'll add some also-rans, near-misses, and some successes into the mix. Why torture myself and all of you? 🙂

Next time, putting what we've discovered into practice.

(As part of Speak Out with Your Geek Out.)

Hi.

I don't really follow sports except during the playoffs if the Habs are there, though a baseball game's a great way to spend the afternoon.

I may not keep up on mainstream gossip on what Britney, Lindsay, or J-Lo are doing, though I'm sure they're nice once you get to know them.

I may not like current music or going out to crowded bars, but I do get together with friends.

Sometimes we watch anime or discuss the relevance of the plot twists in Doctor Who.

Sometimes, we just sit around the table and pretend to be someone else in an imaginary land.

(more…)

In 1976, Dan Aykroyd introduced metalhead John Belushi to the blues. The two went on to form The Blues Brothers, a musical sketch on Saturday Night Live, singing blues standards to a crowd that normally didn't listen to such music. The duo then took the act out, performing at nightclubs, including their own afterhours club.

Aykroyd spent time working on a script to give the Blues Brothers a backstory. After judicious editing – Aykroyd went to great detail in his work – a filmable script for a full-length movie was produced. John Landis took the helm as the director of The Blues Brothers. The movie was released in 1980.

The plot was simple. Jake (Belushi) and Elwood (Aykroyd) Blues were asked by the nun who ran their old orphanage to earn the money needed to keep the orphanage open. She didn't want any tainted money; the money had to be properly earned. After a search for an idea and seeing the light, Jake and Elwood decided to get the band back together. The first half of the movie followed the Blues Brothers as they recruit the old band members and get instruments. The second half followed the band as they work to get the money at a variety of gigs, ending with a massive concert. During this, the Blues Brothers ran afoul of the law, starting with a speeding violation and expired licence and building up from there, the Illinois Neo-Nazis, the Good Ol' Boys country & western band, Jake's parole officer, and Jake's ex-fiancée. The action culminated in a massive chase involving the previously mentioned plus the Army, Coast Guard, Reserves, and state, county, and city law enforcement as the boys try to make the deadline to pay the orphanage's back taxes.

The plot, while basic, serves as the framework for the music. Ultimately, The Blues Brothers is a musical, featuring a number of blues artists, including John Lee Hooker, Cab Calloway, Aretha Franklin, and Ray Charles, showcasing a number of different blues styles. The soundtrack has placed consistantly in the top ten blues albums sold, reaching an audience that had never heard the blues or never considered the blues as listening material. The car chase through Chicago was recorded at speed, hitting over one hundred miles per hours, and setting a new bar for chase scenes for movies following.

The potential for trouble starts with taking a five minute musical sketch and stretching it to an over two hourrunning time. This issue was mentioned in the discussion of The Naked Gun, with the added problem of having almost no characterization of the Blues Brothers prior. The stretching problem would become a inevitable for any Saturday Night Live sketch made into a movie; sometimes, a gag can only go so far. Fortunately, Aykroyd's background work, much of which never was shown on screen, helped him work out the motives of the characters in the film. Staying true to the original sketch also helped; the sketch was all about the music, and so was the movie. It's easy to fill in much of the running time when all that needs to be done is link from song to song. Random destruction, such as police chase through a mall, also fills time, especially when the scene adds to the motivation of two of the pursuers.

The movie is an unqualified success, especially at the core reason it was made; to get a wider audience for the blues. By staying focused on that goal and adding action and comedy elements to attract an audience that wouldn't normally go to a musical, The Blues Brothers will remain a classic.

Next, a look back at what we've discovered so far.

(Apoloigies for the delay. I messed up the scheduling.)

 

In 1967, Patrick McGoohan produced and starred in one of television's most surreal and thought provoking series. The Prisoner featured the struggles of a former agent, referred to as Number 6, against the masters of the Village, a home for people who knew too much. Throughout the show, the balance between the needs of society and the needs of the individual were brought into contrast, with neither side really getting the upper hand. The Prisoner was conceived originally as a seven episode series, though the network, ITV, wanted more. Eventually, seventeen episodes were produced. The ending, "Fall Out", remains as one of the most discussed endings as fans of The Prisoner try to figure out what it meant.

Given the nature of the series, a remake would be daunting. There have been several attempts. One was a four book graphic novel series from DC, showing the Prisoner as still being in the Village, despite being free to leave. (His response, "Free to stay.") The graphic novels managed to convey some of the surreal essence, but created more questions. Another was a miniseries on AMC in 2009 that took the concept but made makor changes to the plotline.

As mentioned, remaking, rebooting, or adapting The Prisoner and keeping the right tone is difficult. Both sides, the Prisoner and the Village, need to be portrayed as having needs and goals; both sides must make gains and have some sympathy from viewers. Oddly, one TV series managed to do this.

In 1999, the CGI-animation series Reboot took on the challenge. Reboot started in 1994 as a light action-adventure series aimed at pre-teens and young teens. The show took place inside a computer called Mainframe, following the lives of the system's inhabitants. The main cast was Bob, an anti-virus program known as a Guardian, Dot, entrepreneur and later the command.com of the system, Enzo, Dot's little brother, and Frisket, Enzo's pet. These four protected Mainframe from the likes of Megabyte and Hexidecimal, sibling viruses, and their minions (Hack and Slash for Megabyte, SCSI for Hex).

The second season saw more mature writing slip in. New characters were introduced, including AndrAIa, a young game sprite with AI capabilities who slipped out of her game cube. A new threat also came into play, a virus called Daemon. Although Daemon was never shown, her web minions were, trying to invade Mainframe. Through an alliance with Megabyte, Bob was able to turn back the invasion. Once the system was safe, though, Megabyte turned on Mainframe's protector and hurled him into the Web.

After the end of the second season, ABC, the American network airing the show, dropped Reboot. YTV, a Canadian cable network specializing in youth programming, continued to back the series. This allowed Mainframe, the production company, to make a third season that turned darker. Season three was split into four arcs: the first showed young Enzo as he tried to be Mainframe's Guardian and ended with Enzo, AndrAIa, and Frisket leaving Mainframe in a game cube; the second showed the sprites, now compiled up, searching for their way home; the third brought back Bob, sailing with software pirates; and the fourth showed the battle to save Mainframe from Megabyte's predations.

During the first arc, the writers started playing with various parodies, including episode 3.1.3 "Firewall", a 007 parody. However, Episode 3.2.3, "Number 7", was the most daring of the second arc. Normally, in a game, sprites will double click their icon to reboot as part of the game to stop the User from winning. Outside the game, rebooting normally doesn't do anything. In "Number 7", after leaving yet another golf game, Enzo (now calling himself Matrix) and AndrAIa find themselves back in Mainframe. Except, it's not at all as it should be. AndrAIa suggests rebooting, in case Mainframe also was taken up into a game cube. Matrix hesitates, unsure and not wanting to return to being his younger self. They do so; Matrix becomes Megabyte, AndrAIa turns into Hexidecimal, and Frisket becomes SCSI.

At this point, music reminiscent of The Prisoner's starts playing. Matrix tries to figure out what is happening, but slips from time to time into Megabyte's voice, sometimes mid-sentence. He storms into Phong's office in a scene straight from The Prisoner's opening sequence, demanding answers from Bob. However, because Matrix couldn't keep his temper, Bob marks him for filing and deletion. Once again, in a scene taken from The Prisoner's opening sequence, Matrix is picked up like a file card and is taken by robotic arm to a filing cabinet. Matrix escapes by infecting the arm and making it drop him. (And, yes, during this, he did say, "I will not be pushed, filed, briefed, or deleted.") He smashes a vid window and is transported to a dark room, with two binomes (a 1 and a 0) on a teeter-totter with cameras, a jury of masked binomes, and Bob as the judge.

The episode then switched to its own version of "Fall Out", with Matrix trying to defend himself and the jury chanting "Guilty" before the sprite can say anything. Eventually, Matrix lets his temper get hold of himself and he swipes with Megabyte's claws, destroying the scene, leaving just a vid-window that shows his reflection. The Megabyte in the vid-window claims to be what Matrix fears the most, going viral when his code should be defending against viruses. Matrix destroys the vid-window and returns to his current form. Another vid-window appears, again reflecting the sprite. The Matrix in the window claims to be what he is afraid of, what he's become in his travels, older, unrecognizable by his friends and family in Mainframe. Matrix shoots the window, destroying it.

Footsteps are heard. Matrix says, "No, not you." From the shadows steps young Enzo, the original. The young Enzo claims to be what Matrix is afraid of, of what he was, small, weak, what Matrix had to shunt aside to survive in the games. Enzo then uses the classic line, "Be seeing you," complete with the the hand gesture. As he walks away, Rover, the Village's retrieval unit, engulfs Matrix.

The spoof of such a classic TV series could easily have fallen apart. The big risk was that many of the show's viewers would be far too young to know about The Prisoner. However, the writing team ensured that the lack of knowledge wouldn't hinder the plot. The Prisoner was a framework to tell a story about what Matrix feared the most and gave him the impetus to work out what he needed to. The addition of golf metaphors ("How's your back, Nine?") allowed the expected humour to come out despite the seriousness of the plot.

Overall, the parody worked. "Number 7" took the essence of The Prisoner but wasn't straitjacketed by it to tell its own story. Matrix matured, getting a new outlook on his digital life and on his mission.

Next time, stretching five minutes to two hours.

"Yes, it is very impressive, but that's not why we're here."

In 1982, David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, and Jerry Zucker, collectively known as ZAZ, brought their brand of humour to the small screeen.  Police Squad!, a parody of classic Quinn-Martin police procedural series, starred Leslie Nielsen as Sergeant Frank Drebin, Detective-Lieutenant, Police Squad. The show was a torrent of jokes and gags subtle and blatant, from the opening titles to the freeze frame of the closing credits. Alas, the series lasted just six episodes. The network (ABC) claimed that the show required people to pay attention; their studies showed that most households used the TV as background noise, paying attention only time to time. The network may have had a point; in the first episode, if you missed Drebin's opening narration mentioning a rash of assaults of models that left them nude in laundromats on the west side of town that wasn't his assignment, seeing the laundry basket in his back seat in a later act would be confusing.

ZAZ continued making feature films. In 1988, they released The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!, with Nielsen returning as Drebin.  This time, ZAZ didn't have to worry about people not paying attention; at the theatre, people are paying to watch the movie.  The jokes could get a little racier as well, though the Naked Gun series is relatively clean. With a larger budget, ZAZ got Ricardo Montalban to play the conniving villain who schemed to cause an international incident by killing the Queen of England, and Reggie Jackson, who was paid half a million for just three days of work. (I'd say Jackson was very convincing in his role as an outfielder for the Angels.)

Several running gags from the TV series were brought back for the movie, including having the guest star killed in an unusual manner. However, instead of killing Montalban in the opening credits, his character was killed at the climax of the movie in one of the more unusual deaths in cinematic history. (Fell off the upper deck of the stadium, run over by a bus, run over by a steamroller, and run over by the USC Trojan Marching Band playing "Louie, Louie". Heck of a way to go.) The sequels followed the pattern. Robert Goulet was the lucky actor to be killed both in the TV series (executed by firing squad) and Naked Gun 2-1/2: The Smell of Fear (knocked off the roof of a tall building, bounced off an awning to land safely on his feet, then mauled by a lion).

One of the main problems in bringing a TV series, especially a half-hour comedy, to the big screen is fleshing out the plot to last ninety to one hundred and twenty minutes.  Fortunately, the ZAZ team had several movies already under their belt by the time Police Squad! aired, including Airplane! and Top Secret. On top, the entire purpose of Police Squad! was to spoof police procedurals, throwing in as many gags as possible during the running time. Extending both the plot and the number of gags was simple enough; adding a romantic subplot and a plot-relevant baseball game helped with both.

The adaptation to the movies benefited Police Squad!. The reputation ZAZ gained through their previous works brought in new viewers while the audience that had seen the show on TV could finally get more. Movie audiences would pay attention to what was on screen; the distraction of a busy home would not be a factor. Restrictions imposed by the network's Broadcast Standards and Practices could be ignored to a greater degree.

The Naked Gun is an unusual case in terms of movie adaptations. It was more finding the right format for Police Squad! than remaking it for the silver screen. Ultimately, the change of format was the best thing that could happen.

Next time, a twist for the column.

 

n 1953, a former British spy, on the eve of his wedding day, worked out his apprehension over his marriage by writing a story and, in the process, created one of the best known secret agents, James Bond. Ian Fleming's first novel, Casino Royale gained popularity, leading to twelve novels and two collections short stories. In 1954, Casino Royale was made into its first adaptation as a CBS TV movie featuring the agent "Jimmie Bond". Later, in 1962, Cubby Broccoli, working with Fleming, adapted Dr. No as a theatrical release starring Sean Connery.

With the success of Dr. No, other 007 novels were adapted. The follow up, From Russia With Love, also remained faithful to the original novel. The third movie, Goldfinger, kept close to the original until the titular villain's plans were revealed.   Goldfinger also marked the start of the success formula used in most of the 007 movies that followed, with car chases, gadgets, and beautiful women. Parodies, including the 1967 Casino Royale with Woody Allen, the 1966 Our Man Flint with James Coburn, and the 1997 Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery with Mike Myers came out, all inspired by the 007 movies.  As a franchise, 007 was only recently topped by Harry Potter in terms of revenue.

In 2006, the James Bond franchise received a reboot, going back to the beginning to show how Bond became 007 in Casino Royale. Daniel Craig took over the role of Bond and brought the spy back to his roots in the novels as a newly appointed 00 agent. The movie followed the plot of the original novel closely. The changes made were more to account for viewers' knowledge and for dramatic effect; for example, baccarat, a game that turns on the draw of a card, was replaced with Texas Hold'em poker, which had gained a large following through televised games.  Gone was the suave spy as portrayed by Roger Moore.  Craig's 007 was more a blunt instrument, leaving a swath of disruption in his first mission. Bond was more human, dealing with insecurities and inexperience while trying to penetrate Quantum (replacing SMERSH from the original novel).

The new Casino Royale counts as both a reboot of the 007 franchise and an adaptation of the original novel. The risks were that fans wouldn't accept Daniel Craig as Bond, that the reboot would feel like a step backward after decades of a sophisticated and experienced 007, that too many changes were made. Keeping close to the original story helped; with Casino Royale the first 007 novel, the expectations of Bond as a new 00 agent were kept reasonable. The movie still had elements from previous movies that worked; a car chase that ended in a record number of rolls, gambling in the high society of Monte Carlo, and the beautiful foil Vesper. Events from Casino Royale continued into the following movie, Quantum of Solace, showing both Bond's human side and his evolving into the 007 of previous movies.

Once again, having a production team that cared for the property beyond the revenue  generated helped. It would have been easy to use the title and created a plot out of random elements in the book, as had happened with Moonraker. Instead, EON continued its work in treating 007 with respect.

Next time, an adaptation finds its audience, in colour!

 

One of the biggest movie franchises wrapped up with the release of the second half of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The movie adaptation of the young wizard's tale definitely deserves a look.

What started as a children's story of a young orphan who discovers that his parents were  wizards turned into an engrossing epic of good and evil mixed with a coming of age. JK Rowling's first book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, came out in 1997 and took  the publishing industry by storm. Each book in the series took place each year at the fabled Hogwarts, the story growing more intricate as Harry matured and learned more about  magic, Voldemort, and himself.

Naturally, when a book becomes a phenomenom, Hollywood wants to get in on the act. Warner Brothers picked up the movie license and, in 2001, released the film version of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. The adaptation to the silver screen carried risks.  At the time the first movie came out, only four of the planned seven books had been released. This added a complication to the adaptation of what could be safely removed from  the movie without losing potential plot elements. At the same time, the time limitations  of a movie required the removal of scenes. Casting would also be critical. Actors would  have to be found to portray the characters as they grew. The potential for disaster looms;  a child actor could decide that an acting career isn't what he or she wants during the teenage years. The child actor could also hit puberty early, growing out of the part.  Worse, the first movie could bomb at the box office, killing the series.

Once again, like in previous installments of Lost in Translation, directors and writers  cared about the property. Casting brought in talented actors, both young and old. Helping  the younger actors were a supporting cast of experienced talent that could be used as  tutors and role models during filming. Many of the young actors grew into the roles, especially James and Oliver Phelps, who played the Weasely twins, Fred and George. The  length of the last book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, was dealt with by spltting  it into two movies instead of cutting out critical elements.

Overall, the Harry Potter franchise was treated well. Warner Brothers saw the value of the  series and didn't use it to turn a fast dollar. Again, as previously mentioned, taking care to properly adapt a title is critical to ensuring the final result isn't reviled by fans.

Next time, a cold war icon gets a reboot.

This entry is going to veer away from the visual medium. Reboots don't just happen on screen. Adaptations can still be informative even when in a different genre. In the case of this entry's subject, a reboot can be polarizing.

In 1974, Tactical Studies Rules, a small company in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, released what would become a culture-changing phenomenom. The original release of Dungeons & Dragons was a three-booklet boxed set, adapting the company's previous Chainmail fantasy miniatures rules for fantasy role-playing. As the game's popularity grew, the rules were revised and expanded. The expansion resulted in a split as Dungeons & Dragons and Advanced Dungeons & Dragons were released. The former kept to the previous rules; non-human characters were classes in and of themselves. AD&D, however, allowed non-humans to take on roles such as fighter, thief, magic-user, or cleric.

The game exploded in the 80s. Ads for the game appeared in comics, in magazines, even on TV. AD&D entered the cultural subconscious. To be fair, it was never a smooth ride. People looking for a scapegoat latched on to the "D&D is Satanic" bandwagon. (Oddly, that didn't hurt sales. Something about forbidden fruit being the most tantalizing.) Sure, the game got tagged as a nerd pastime, but those who played enjoyed it.

After about a decade of rules revisions published through various supplements and through Dragon Magazine (TSR's own house publication), a new edition was released. The second edition brought together the various rules updates and cleaned up some of the problem spots. Around this time, TSR's licensing included computer and video games, cashing in on the new trend that was inspired by AD&D. The 90s, though, saw a boom in the number of RPG publishers competing with TSR for the top spot. Although none really came close, several companies, including White Wolf (Vampire: the Masquerade) and Steve Jackson Games (GURPS), rose up with their own systems and gained their own followings.

During the 90s, where various activist groups such as Bothered About Dungeons and Dragons failed, upper management succeeded in the destruction of TSR. As a result of some poor decisions by upper management, the company declared bankruptcy. Its assets were sold off; the biggest asset being the D&D trademark. The game was picked up by Wizards of the Coast, the creator of Magic: The Gathering.   A new edition came out, called Dungeons & Dragons. The system changed the mechanics drastically, switching to a pure d20 plus modifier core mechanic, but kept the key ideas (classes and levels, Vancian magic) intact. Overall, D&D 3rd Edition was successful; the game was still the 800 pound gorilla of the industry. WotC also released the rules as part of an Open Gaming License, letting other companies use the core rules for their own settings. The 90s saw many small companies releasing settings that used the d20 rule set.

With the very brief history of D&D out of the way, we come to the subject of this entry - Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. As with the previous editions, the third edition rules gained a lot of cruft, adding to the complexity to an already complex game. In 2000, a fourth edition was released. The d20 mechanics were kept, but characters' abilities had undergone a massive change. Vancian magic, that is, magic where the caster forgets the spell after casting, was gone. Instead, characters of all classes gained powers at each level. Wizards no longer were a one-shot wands of Magic Missile at first level, nor did hostile cats pose a lethal threat to them. Fighters saw their abilities with swords improve with each level; no longer were they the meatshield at lower levels and cannon fodder at higher ones.

The potential drawbacks were vast. Would the new rules be accepted as D&D? Internet flame wars still rage over that very question. The new mechanics also saw a return to D&D's miniatures heritage. The new edition almost required minitures on a battle map. Gone was the exploration aspect of previous versions; the fourth edition changed abilities to an encounter-based economy. A good DM could bring in exploration, but the core mechanics didn't allow for a random encounter. With the new rules, a wizard could take a hit from an orc with a longsword and still fight; whether this is good or bad depends on the player.

Not all the changes were accepted by players. One common criticism is that the game feels more like a collectable card game (CCG), not a role playing game. Each power, whether a wizard's arcane spell, a priest's divine miracle, or a fighter's martial exploit, had a set of rules of its own. With the character builder, software to assist in character creation, players could print the power cards and play them like a CCG. Various players' books have been released, with some players and DMs feeling that they need to get each one to stay current. And, yet, D&D is still the 800 pound gorilla of the RPG industry. The game continues to evolve with the release of the Essentials line, a streamlined version of the fourth edition rules.

Dungeons and Dragons 4th Edition shows that there is a limit to how many changes a fanbase will expect. A too large change of focus can alienate fans. Yet, the current version of the game is successful. New players keep coming in, partially through the efforts of WotC's Encounters  series of games which play to the strengths of the new rules. It is possible to overcome a gap an adaptation creates by supporting the new fans. And sometimes, it is impossible to avoid alienating a portion of the existing fanbase, no matter what is done.

Next time, a young boy and his hero's adaptation.

In the previous three entries, I've looked at reboots that were successful, either popularly or financially. Even The Phantom Menace more than paid for itself, despite some major problems. This time around, though, it's time to look at a not-so-successful adaptation.

Movie adaptations of video games are fraught with peril. What works for good gameplay may not make the narrative sense needed for a movie. Some elements need the unreality of a video game to work and just can't be done well in a live action film. Some games may not have a narrative hook to begin with – the fighting games popular in the 80s and 90s are a good example, especially the adaptation looked at in this column.

Street Fighter became popular in video game arcades in the 80s and 90s. Many quarters were consumed as Chun Li, Ken, Ryu, and Guile fought through opponents to defeat the evil M. Bison. The plot for the game was enough to explain fighting different opponents in different locations. The game was popular enough to spawn both a role-playing game (Street Fighter: The Role Playing Game from White Wolf) and a movie.

Street Fighter – The Movie was released in 1994. It featured action movie star Jean-Claude Van Damme as Guile and Raul Julia in his last role as M. Bison. Among the co-stars was popular singer Kylie Minogue as Cammy. As one of its many problems, Street Fighter had every character from the video game. Every. Each character had on-screen time and got to show off signature moves.  

The movie, though, couldn't decide whether it wanted to be an action movie or an action comedy. It veers from one to the other all the way through. There are times when the movie deliberately heads into camp territory. Considering that one of the writers was Lorenzo Semple, whose previous works include Flash Gordon and the 1960s Batman TV series, the camp comes from an honest place. At the same time, some of the cast didn't seem to be aware that the movie wasn't serious. The result is schizophrenic.

There are points of brilliance in the movie. Each character was able to use his or her signature move at least once. Raul Julia was delightfully over the top as M. Bison, chewing the scenery as only a seasoned pro could, with relish. And possibly mustard. The armed forces DJ heard at the beginning and during the end credits was none other than Adrian Cronauer (who was played by Robin Williams in Good Morning, Vietnam). Some of the supporting characters held their own in the massive cast and did have some good, deliberately funny lines.

Overall, though, the movie failed to deliver on its promise. It didn't have enough one-on-one fights to reflect the game. The cast didn't have a depth of acting ability. At a time when movies were growing darker in tone, Street Fighter was bright, a throwback to Technicolour days.

There is a lot to learn from Street Fighter. One is that a video game doesn't necessarily translate well into a new medium. Some details just don't work outside a game environment. Another is that having well-known talent can't save a movie that doesn't know what it wants to be. (With the caveat that Raul Julia, even while fighting a terminal disease, can still bring his A-game and save a movie from total disaster.) However, attention to details can turn a movie from horrible to "so bad it's good".  Street Fighter is the type of movie a group of friends can put on and heckle for fun. It should become a cult classic.

Next time, get out your dice!