As I’m sure most people have noticed, there’s a huge trend right now for movie studios to forego the troublesome process of actually having to come up with new ideas, and just dig back into the past to resurrect formerly successful properties. That way, nobody actually has to think too terribly hard, and they can hope to gain a few ticket sales by cashing in on misplaced nostalgia. The success of these ventures has been uneven (to say the least), and every time word leaks out of another ill-conceived attempt to recreate something from our childhood, my question is always, “Why can’t they try to remake the bad films into something good, instead of ruining films that were good in the first place?”
This morning, I woke up (early, for some reason), and saw this tweet:
seattlegeekly: RT @GeekTyrant: NEVERENDING STORY: Another Childhood Film Classic Gets Jacked http://bit.ly/19nlmr – WHY do they feel they have to do this?
I expected my usual reaction of, “oh, geez, why?”…and didn’t get it. You see, yes, there’s a chance that they’re taking a film that’s loved by many who were kids when it came out and “updating” it to be bigger, louder, and — as is typical for today’s reimaginings — stupider (see trailers for the upcoming recreation of Disney’s “Witch Mountain” franchise for a prime example of what I’m talking about). However — and this is where I risk lynching by those only familiar with the film — if we’re lucky, this could turn out to be one of those cases where they just might improve on the original.
Some background: I grew up in Anchorage, Alaska. Now, Alaska in the 1980’s was still far enough removed from the Lower 48 that more often than not, we tended to run a few weeks behind the rest of the U.S. I must have been around nine or ten years old when I saw a trailer for the original “Neverending Story” on TV, and I was immediately entranced. A kid not much older than me getting literally sucked into a fantasy book, with fantastic creatures, flying dragons, and beautiful princesses? Awesome! And so I eagerly waited for the movie to come out.
And waited.
And waited. I have no idea how long I actually waited, but it was long enough in kid years that it turned into “forever.” This was before the modern technique of releasing trailers six months to a year in advance of a film to build excitement, so I’ve always assumed that Alaska just got the movie a month or two after it opened in the rest of the U.S. Whatever the reason, I was annoyed and anxious…I wanted to see that movie! And then, while wandering through a bookstore, I saw it: the book of the movie! It had pictures on the front cover of the kids from the trailer, the dragon…that was it! Now it didn’t matter that we hadn’t gotten the movie…I had the book! I got it, went home, and dove in.
I dove in much like Bastian did. Here was a kid much like me, for whom books weren’t merely printed words on paper, but entire worlds that would flow out of the pages, wrap around us and envelop us, drawing us in to the story as if we were really there. I was with Bastian on his adventures just as he was with Atreyu, Artax, Falcor, and all the rest. I fell in love with that book.
Not too long after I finished reading, word came out that the movie was finally opening in Anchorage! Finally! All the adventures I’d just lived, I’d get to see — the creatures, the battles, everything! I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so excited to see a movie…this was it. This was exactly what I’d been waiting for since that first trailer.
And then, over that next hour and a half, my ten-year-old self became suddenly, bitterly, painfully schooled in the realities of translating a novel to the screen. Roger Ebert’s review of “North” had nothing on the vitriol that spewed out of my young mouth when I “reviewed” the film to my family and friends. It was horrid! A tragedy! A disaster!
For years now, I’ve described the major differences between the book and the movie thusly: “Take your favorite childhood novel. Now, tear it in half, and throw the latter half away. Now, start randomly tearing pages out of the first half, until it’s about half the size it was when you started. Now, take what’s left, and shuffle it around until it loses nearly all resemblance to the original story. There’s your script!”
There were so many moments in the book that I’d played over and over in my head, that I’d been dying to see on the screen, that simply didn’t exist. One of the key scenes that I felt cheated on was when Atreyu and Falcor meet. In the book, Atreyu has lost Artax, spoken to Morla, and left the Swamps of Sadness on his own. Travelling through a canyon, he witnesses a battle between two great monsters: a luckdragon, and a shape-changer named Ygramul the Many…
The battle between the two giants was fearsome. The luckdragon was still defending himself, spewing blue fire that singed the cloud-monster’s bristles. Smoke came whirling through the crevices in the rock, so foul-smelling that Atreyu could hardly breathe. Once the luckdragon managed to bite off one of the monster’s long legs. but instead of falling into the chasm, the severed leg hovered for a time in mid-air, then returned to its old place in the black cloud-body. And several times the dragon seemed to seize one of the monster’s limbs between its teeth, but bit into the void.
Only then did Atreyu noticed that the monster was not a single, solid body, but was made up of innumerable small steel-blue insects which buzzed like angry hornets. It was their compact swarm that kept taking different shapes.
This was Ygramul, and now Atreyu knew why she was called ‘the Many’.
To have this scene played over and over in my head for weeks, seen from every angle, imagined from every possible vantage point, and then to watch in disbelief in the film as Falcor simply appears for no particular reason — a deus ex machina that bothered me at ten, even if I didn’t know the term — to pull Atreyu out of the swamp? Oh, this was just not right!
I didn’t watch that movie for years afterwards.
Eventually, as I got older, I started to wonder if it was really as bad as I remembered, and rented it. Of course, no, it wasn’t that bad. A little older, a little wiser, and a little more cognizant of the sacrifices that must be made when adapting a 377-page fantasy novel to a 90-minute movie, I came to realize that it’s really not that bad of a movie at all, and even had a lot of fun on one trip to Germany when I got to see some of the sets. However, it’s definitely one of those films where I need to keep it in a compartment entirely separate from that of the book. Two creations that share a name and many characters, but in most respects, are two entirely separate things.
So now comes word that there may be a new take on the film. Admittedly, it’s still in the very early stages of planning, but one key quote stood out to me: “The new pic…will examine the more nuanced details of the book that were glossed over in the first pic.” Now, who knows just what details they’re looking at (though they certainly have a lot to choose from), and this could be nothing but marketingspeak aimed directly at people like me who are more attached to the book than the movie, but I’d like to hold out at least a little hope that we may get something closer to what Michael Ende originally created.
