A new remake of The Picture of Dorian Gray is being heterosexualised to remove the essential queer themes of the original story. An upcoming adaptation of Wuthering Heights has suffered a nonsensical and white-washed casting. There are rumours of a new Netflix remake of Pride & Prejudice — which has had at least 17 different remakes since 1938 — while other Jane Austen novels remain under explored. Clearly Hollywood has some kind of obsession with literary classics; or, more importantly, with butchering and shortcutting them.
But before we dive into why this keeps happening, let’s discuss what exactly makes a novel a “classic”. Though there is no sure-fire way to determine whether a book is a classic or not, it is generally agreed that classics are socially relevant and explore universal and/or timeless themes to deserve the title. They must stand the test of time as a fresh and eye-opening exploration of ideas, relationships, and themes. Think To Kill a Mockingbird, The Handmaid’s Tale, Jane Eyre. Classic literature informs culture and society, makes history, sways the masses. What I’m trying to say is that they’re pretty important.
It’s unsurprising then that people feel the need to make these works more accessible and digestible by adapting them to film and TV. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing — I would still recommend, you know, actually reading the book — but it’s certainly a project fraught with danger. We’re all familiar with the disappointment that comes from seeing your favourite book/game/story being misinterpreted and wrangled into a film that is totally unrecognisable.
The Picture of Dorian Gray was written in 1890, by author, poet, playwright, and notorious homosexual, Oscar Wilde. The novel is about a young man, Dorian Gray, who becomes immortal after having his portrait painted. Painted by Dorian’s friend, Basil, who is in love with him, the portrait has now trapped Dorian’s soul in the canvas, unbeknownst to Basil. As a result, Dorian stays young and beautiful, while his likeness in the portrait becomes more and more aged and decrepit the more misdeeds and crimes Dorian commits, becoming a physical manifestation of his sins. Oscar Wilde depicted his experiences as a gay man through his characters so clearly, that the book was used as evidence against Wilde in his indecency trial. With this in mind, it’s pretty disturbing to learn that Netflix is in the process of remaking The Picture of Dorian Gray as a TV show where Dorian and Basil are reimagined as siblings, thereby erasing the important queer themes that allowed for this book to make history.
Another classic has been threatened with an adaptation this year, and this time it’s one of my favourites; Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. The 1847 novel tells the fraught love story of Catherine, a childish and untameable heroine, raised alongside the adopted Heathcliff, a mistreated, dark-skinned, young boy. The two fall in love after growing close throughout their childhood, but because Heathcliff isn’t the “right” kind of man for Catherine, she marries someone else. When she dies tragically due to complications in childbirth at 18, Heathcliff goes crazy with grief and regret and turns into the story’s villain. The timeless, gothic tale has been picked up by Saltburn director, Emerald Fennel, someone I would have expected to treat this treasure with the respect it deserves. But alas, 34-year-old Margot Robbie has been cast as basically-a-child Catherine, and Jacob Elordi has been cast as Heathcliff, whose ethnicity in the novel is intentionally ambiguous but described as “dark-skinned” – which Elordi is notably not. The Australian representation doesn’t make up for the fact that Catherine’s young age and Heathcliff’s ethnicity are integral parts of their character and stories, which shouldn’t be sacrificed for the sake of having a cast of “in-demand” actors.
As for the Netflix Pride and Prejudice adaptation, it is still in the early phase of planning, so I still have some hope for it, despite it being the millionth remake. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the story, but I also love Emma and Northanger Abbey, some of Austen’s other novels, which have proportionally fewer remakes than Pride and Prejudice. Let’s just hope we don’t have another Netflix’s Persuasion on our hands, which fell victim to “iPhone face” casting and a massacring of Austen’s language (I’m still reeling from Dakota Johnson saying, “now we’re worse than exes; we’re friends.”).
This follows a long history of beloved novels being twisted into cheap imitations. Take Mike Flanagan’s remake of The Haunting of Hill House, originally written by Shirley Jackson, written in 1959. Don’t get me wrong, I actually love most of Flanagan’s work, but I can’t think about his Hill House without being overcome with a spitting rage. There is absolutely no trace of the original story, as Flanagan keeps some character names, and the novel’s title, and the concept of a haunted house, and nothing else. At that point, you might as well just call your TV show something else, because there is absolutely no connection to the original story. I’ve never felt so disappointed by a show, especially when Jackson’s original short story is masterfully written and wonderfully creepy.
I’m not completely unreasonable; I know not every single little detail and scene in a novel can be squeezed into a film, and that sometimes things need to be cut. In fact, I even think a little creative license can amplify a story (if done right), but this can be done without jeopardising the overall sanctity and power of the original story. So, if you’re looking for some classics adaptations that aren’t awful, feast your eyes on these little gems:
Jane Eyre
Novel: 1847
Film: 2011
Jane Eyre is one of my favourite novels of all time, and this adaptation does a great job of translating the morally gray themes and gothic nature of the original story, except that the scene where Rochester dresses up as an old fortune teller woman in an attempt to get Jane to admit her feelings for him is left out by the director (COWARD).
The Great Gatsby
Novel: 1925
Film: 2013
Maybe this is a controversial opinion, but I think Baz Luhrmann’s film adaptation of The Great Gatsby is better than the book (F. Scott Fitzgerald was an alcoholic who may have stolen stories from his wife Zelda, so I don’t feel too bad about saying that). It’s campy, it’s tragic, it’s visually stunning.
Emma
Novel: 1815
Film: 2020
It’s difficult to articulate how perfect this movie is. At its core, Emma is a lighthearted, satirical, funny story about regency romance, and this Autumn de Wilde adaptation is so spot on and true to the essence of the original that I cannot recommend it enough. Plus, it’s a gorgeous movie with a brilliant soundtrack. Please, treat yourself to watching this masterpiece.
The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay.
Novels: 2008-2010
Films: 2012-2015
Uh, yeah, I DO consider The Hunger Games a literary classic, do you have a problem with that? I would argue this series is the only from the teenage dystopian novel craze that actually did a good job at satirising and criticising modern society, and the impact of the novels is not lost through the films.
Romeo and Juliet
Play: 1597
Film: 1996
Once again, Baz Luhrmann shows how to take someone else’s story and adapt it to screen with respect, while at the same time making it your own. It takes true skill to take a tragic love story set in 15th century Renaissance Italy, and flawlessly transition it into a 1990’s Italian mob feud with gun-toting, Hawaiian-shirt-wearing characters. It’s raunchy and a bit silly, just like Shakespeare would have wanted.
Dracula
Novel: 1897
Film: 1992
Bran Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula is a bit of a slow and dense read, so I wouldn’t blame you for opting for the film version. Thank God we have this sexy little adaptation featuring Gary Oldman and Winona Ryder, which is anything but stuffy and old.
Call Me By Your Name
Novel: 2007
Film: 2017
If you think reading about someone fucking a peach isn’t weird enough, then try watching it! While the film isn’t a perfect replication of the book, Luca Guadagnino effectively traps the story’s essence into film in all its sweet, juicy glory.
Phantom of the Opera
Novel: 1910
Film: 2004
Some criticise this film for not being dangerous or romantic enough, but I think it’s perfect. The film is as dark and theatrical as the novel and has a stunning soundtrack. Some key scenes have been sacrificed, but Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler do such a great job that I just can’t stay mad at them.
