The Book
Richard Yates' novel, Revolutionary Road, is a story about a couple, Frank and April Wheeler, (played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in the film), who move to the suburbs in Connecticut. In an attempt to escape their frustrations of the husband’s dissatisfying, yet well paying job, and the wife’s larger ambitions of what she wanted her life to look like. They plan to move to France. This move is symbolic of a whole new life, ( “really living” they call it) and is challenged forcing the couple to choose between the safety of their current suburban life or the many risks of the unknown.
As a writer and former suburbanite I read this novel at an especially perfect time; right around the holidays so I got to read amidst the crunchy autumnal leaves of the Angeles Crest forest and as I read it I thought of our own small town tragedy. A young boy gone missing, then found strewn above a river in women’s clothing. I remembered this walking through the two blocks on Main St. past the See’s Candies shop that housed an authentic See’s Candy retailer, an older woman with a pink rinse. An image that fit our consumer expectations; how disturbing it can be to go through a shopping center and be struck dumb with a teenage girl behind a See’s Candy counter her butt crack peeking out of her jeans as she reaches down to get that special diabetic sugar free fav of your Lola, Abuela, Oma, Nona, Halmoni, or just plain Grandma’s. This also brings on something that suburbs tend to lack overall…diversity. It is my personal belief that in homogeny there is something slightly creepy lurking. Either way at that moment I thought if I went to any suburb and spoke to the people I’m sure there would be a story there. Every small town has an April Wheeler and us city folks will still slow down to hear her story.
In terms of the craft aspects I found valuable about this novel, I was mostly struck by Yates’ overall voice and style, patience with detail but also there were some really witty turns of perspective. One thing that struck me initially was his personification of a fight. “Then the fight went out of control. IT quivered their arms and legs and wrenched their faces into shapes of hatred, it urged them harder and deeper into each other’s weakest points, showing them cunning ways around each other’s strong holds and quick chances to switch tactics, feint, and strike again. In the space of a gasp for breath it sent their memories racing back over the years for old weapons to rip the scabs off old wounds; it went on an on.” If this were going to be a review on ways in which the adaptation of this novel is lost in the film I would definitely have to note craft jewels like this. Another aspect that I think any director would have difficulty capturing was Yates’ lovely details; yet another way film can not translate all the greatness of this novel for word lovers.
Writes Yates: “As she talked she stared in absent minded fascination at the way the dying sun shone crimson through her husband’s earlobe and made his dandruff into flakes of fire but her thoughts were hurrying ahead to the evening.”
Coincidentally, or perhaps not, a lot of emphasis on the scene seems to be a common aspect of novels that are adapted into film, their very distinct scenes, the tension building, the stakes increasing.
This is one of the first scenes in the novel when Frank is driving April home after the play.
1. Always remember that AT LEAST two things are going on (for the writer): The writer’s INTENTION and the characters’ DESIRE:
Five minutes later, dancing, he found that the small of April Johnson’s back rode as neatly in his hand as if it has been made for that purpose, and a week after that almost to the day, she was lying miraculously nude beside him in the first blue light of day on Bethune St. drawing her delicate forefinger down his face from brow to chin and whispering, “It’s true Frankie. I mean it. You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”
Writer’s intention: introduce characters, in this case he uses the road their driving on to illustrate how the Wheeler’s past relates to all the sections of towns they’re driving past. Character’s desire: to be nostalgic to be loved and admired by his wife. To convey an adoration he once received from his wife.
2. Interior vs Exteriors – what is said and what is unsaid. Aligning the reader.
“Because it’s not worth it,” he was saying now, allowing the blue-lit needle of the speedometer to tremble up through sixty for the final mile of highway. They were almost home. They would have a few drinks and maybe she would cry a little- it would do her good- and then they would laugh about it and shut themselves in the bedroom and take off their clothes, and in the moonlight her plump little breasts would nod and sway and point at him, and there wasn’t any reason why it couldn’t be like the old days.
3. DO THINGS get worse?
“It strikes me,” he said at last, “That there’s a considerable amount of bullshit going on here. I mean you seem to be doing a pretty good imitation of Madame Bovary here and there’s one or two points I’d like to clear up. Number one, it’s not my fault the play was lousy. Number two, it’s sure as hell not my fault you didn’t turn out to be an actress and the sooner you get over that little piece of soap opera the better off we’re all going to be. Number three, I don’t happen to fit the role of dumb, insensitive suburban husband, you’ve been trying to hang that one on me ever since we moved out here, and I’m damned if I’ll wear it. Number four---“
She was out of the car and running away in the headlights, quick and graceful, a little too wide in the hips.
And they just seem to get worse and worse from here.
The Film
Let me start off by saying what I will NOT do. I will not go into the casting or particular personal nuances of the actors as I am not an actor and don’t claim to know anything about acting. Also I will not go into whether or not this particular cast matched the cast of my imagination because I think this is a risk that is explored in all adaptations and as the audience we are beginning a new contract with a new and different creator. At the ticket counter as we purchase our tickets, or perhaps at the electronic kiosk, we are saying I am willing to be open to your vision. I will be accepting of your visual version of this tale. Because also let’s face it there are some risks novels can take that film can’t. Novelists can keep us captivated on and off for days sometimes weeks, while filmmakers have to keep us entertained and captivated in one room for two hours without us considering it false imprisonment. Now to what I will speak about in this section. Well I think it might be fun, albeit obvious, to begin with ways in which the film differed from the novel. Then go on to speak about aspects that I found especially delightful about the film as well as things that I wished were included in the film.
One way the film differed from the novel was that I was surprisingly more entertained by the character of John Givings, played by Michael Shannon, a mentally ill son of the suburban town’s realtor/meddler. His keen observations delivered with the freedom and abandon of a person who suffered from mental illness contrasted so well against his mother’s, played by Kathy Bates, contrived demeanor. The audience did something we do not do often which was laugh out loud. Another thing I do not do often is read a book twice or watch a film twice however, I was surprised to find how much of the film mirrored the novel that I was able to at times finish the sentences in the dialogue. It was a strange sensation like déjà vu. The film added a scene where the Campbell’s, the Wheeler’s best friends agree not to discuss them any more. Whereas in the novel Mrs. Campbell would gossip and rant on about them while Mr. Campbell’s resentment grew for his wife. This silent war, in my opinion, led more to the story the viewer and the reader’s impression rather than tidy it up with this little scene. Also another way the film differed from the novel, and this very well could be a common phenomena with adaptations, is that the film’s dialogue contained some expository elements. For novelists this would be a no-no, but I see how this may be a tool in screenplays. You know Joey walks up to Mike and says, “Geesh it’s a lot colder than last year when the Truman’s accidently ran over your dog remember?”
Mike kicks a rock across the street and scrunches his shoulders, keeping his hands in his pockets, “Of course I remember how could I forget. It was the first day their daughter Milly let me get to second base with her. Now she won’t even look at me.”
While this may be a conventional tool to screenplays it still felt a little heavy handed. One reviewer aptly described the sensation of always being aware that you were watching a film.
The final tiny detail that was the smallest bit distracting was that we have seen this dynamic duo before, in the Titanic. Which wouldn’t make any impression at all, if the main plot of the story weren’t based around whether or not this couple boards a boat to go to France. Like most of you I could not help but jest to my partner, “I hope this is better than their last boat ride.” Which I’m sure would be funnier if it weren’t the most obvious joke to tell.
The fact that it was so obvious made me wonder why the film insisted on changing the details of a purchase of the wife going out and purchasing innocent items like French books into her making “Steamer” reservations. This confusion would have been easily avoided and the audience may have been less jarred out of their cinematic dream. Either way I found both a delightful escape from the failing economy and intemperate climate.
