Monday Review: Snowpiercer
First things first, Luke Pasqualino (aka: D’Artagnan in my new television obsession, The Musketeers) appears to have at least a little bit of parkour training so YAY for that.
*ahem*
I read the two part graphic novel Snowpiercer a couple weeks ago. It was phenomenal; as I said at the time and have said since, it’s the most Russian French work you’ll ever lay eyes on. There isn’t a ton of action (plot yes, bloody explosions, no) and everyone is pretty much an asshole in one way or another, which doesn’t so much lend itself to a film adaptation. The art is very simple and very gorgeous, but stomps its food and says, “Ha! Good luck putting me on screen.”
What writer/director Bong Joon-Ho did instead, with the help of Kelly Masterson in the writing department, is adapt the concept.
This can be done well (The Musketeers, John Dies at the End) and it can be done poorly (take your pick). It is most often done poorly, as is evidenced by my rather paltry list of successes — yes, I know there are others, calm yourself. Adapting a concept is much, much more difficult than adapting a graphic novel frame by frame (think Sin City) or even another show, action by action, speech by speech (I am glaring daggers and giving you the finger, Gracepoint, in which not even the presence of Ten himself is going to convince me to partake. Broadchurch was compelling; Broadchurch Redux Lite is tripe waiting for a bowl of pho).
Why is the concept adaptation more difficult? Because one has to decide which of the original elements are the important ones, which ones can be discarded, which characters to keep and which to boot off the moving high speed train, which visual images need inclusion as are and which can be adapted.
(For starters. Don’t want to shoot my wad because tomorrow’s process entry will be about adapting concept, but I can’t just say “adapting concept” and leave the rest. Because that’s poor exposition. Boo on poor exposition.)
The narrative of the film is very, very different from that of the graphic novel; it has to be to make any sort of narrative sense. Phonebooth was a very intense film. Snowpiercer, like the aforementioned, has the constraint of being limited to a single place, though there’s certainly more variability than Colin Farrell had between his phone booth and his… well, there was really
just the phone booth. So, in both, but specifically in Snowpiercer because, well, the title of this review, the narrative and characters have to provide the momentum because the setting is physically incapable of doing so. The sense of the original Snowpiercer is very much intact, however: the hopelessness at the back, the opulence at the front, the absurdity of the whole situation. the man obsessed with his engine to the detriment of all else, the unreality of the reality in which the last few humans find themselves. The idea that survival isn’t the same as having hope and that, sometimes, survival is more hopeless than death (yeah, yeah, I know, happy Monday). The idea that, in the end, there’s really nowhere to go, that moving up isn’t actually better, it’s simply a different sort of horror. One that smells better, sure, and has better lighting. And a crazy-ass aquarium. And a salon. Sushi bar. Drugs. But through that is the end and past the end is nothing.
Short version: the narrative changes didn’t both me. At all. The core of the graphic novel remained very much intact, despite the moving around of pieces.
The film was visually stunning as well, a vast change from the grayscale shading of source material which was absolutely fine because who wants to stare at moving grayscale for two hours. No one. Not even me and I was an art history minor. Bong Joon-Ho was able to infuse even the darkest (by which I mean lack of light not gravity of concept) bits with a certain richness, with the sense of things moving in the shadows. The front of the train is Terry-Gilliam-esque opulent, a jarring and entirely appropriate transition. The visuals are part Korean-cinema, part Luc Besson-French (did I mention the parkour?), part Bong Joon-Ho’s own. There was even a fight scene in infared-goggle-visionby the audience (the train is going through a tunnel and the government forces are equipped while the rebels are not) I thought was going to be super gimmicky but was actually gorgeous and exceedingly well done. I loved every visual moment of this thing and there are one hundred twenty-six of them. The accompanying audio was perfect was well, an immaculate balance of dialogue, score, and absolute silence.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I wasn’t going to see Snowpiercer even after reading the GN because Chris Evans is the star; I mean, he’s a fantastic Cap, but his extreme lack of range of expression, both voice and facial, led me to question his ability to carry what is, essential, an indie movie due to the circumstances of its release (Weinestin wanted changes for the American
release, Bong Joon-Ho refused, Weinstein punished him by limiting the initial theatrical run). I have been forced to revise my opinion of his abilities; he really is quite good and we don’t see his constipated face once. Tilda Swindon is sublime as always and brings a sense of absurdist humor that is lacking from the graphic novel but which enhances the story to the nth degree. John Hurt is great, Ed Harris is super creepy; Kang-Ho Song, Ah-sung Ko, Octavia Spencer, Luke Pasqualino, and Jamie Bell round the core group of revolutionaries out nicely. Emma Levie is sweetly vicious, which is the most terrifying sort.
I’m going four and a half fingers on the hand of glory here, half a finger deduction for length — I would have gone 10-15 minutes shorter and ended it at a certain massive, hugely destructive explosion. Still, an unexpectedly awesome film.
I am so getting that “Surrender or Die” tattoo someday.
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