Adaptation Blues: Michael Bay's Trans4mers?

Well, despite his repeated denials, it appears that pyrophilic filmmaker Michael Bay will, in fact, return to the lucrative live action Transformers franchise.

And you know what? I am absolutely fine with this. Bay bottles a certain brand of chaotic energy I find kind of appealing. Not good, necessarily, but undeniably entertaining. Keep in mind, these are toy movies, and Bay’s action direction captures the fevered pace of how a young boy might play with his action figures: he makes these guys fight for a while, gets bored, moves on to those guys over there, and so on and so on, until it’s time for cookies and chocolate milk. The end result is choppy, sure, but I find the overall tone… endearingly nostalgic.

That said, I think Bay should use this opportunity to refine his formula. The announced recast is an excellent step in the right direction. Don’t get me wrong, I like Shia; he works as the loveable everyman… but past the first film, his storyline can never be as interesting as the whole intergalactic war between ancient sentient machines.

I understand the narrative logic behind including flesh-and-blood characters in a CGI-intensive movie; it arises from the misconception that a story requires a “human” element, so that the viewer can more easily “relate” to it. Unfortunately, Bay doesn’t seem to understand human behavior, instead padding the runtime with hour-long stretches of Sam’s parents hopped-up on drugs and dogs humping various inanimate objects.

Shoehorning these walking punch lines into the plot also underestimates the “humanity” of the franchise’s eponymous characters. Just look at Ultra Magnus’ conflict in the ‘86 animated film: after Optimus’ demise, he reluctantly agrees to temporarily fill the void in leadership, and struggles to live up to his predecessor’s example. A bit over-the-top, perhaps, but much easier to “relate” to than Shia’s physical inability to utter the words “I love you.”

The Autobots may be giant fighting robots that can turn into cars, but they’re also characters—they have goals, face insurmountable obstacles, contemplate matters of ethics and morality. The time has come to dump the John Turturros and the “Deep Wangs” so that the real heroes can stand in the spotlight. 

Adaptation Blues - Mass Effect: Deception

As an aspiring writer, I found this whole debacle fascinating.

When loyal fans of the blockbuster video game series Mass Effect picked up their copy of the latest tie-in novel, Deception, they were outraged to find within its pages a number of glaring continuity errors. And, according to this webpage, these are not insignificant oversights:

Gillian and Nick are 18 years old in Deception—They were both twelve-going-on-thirteen in Ascension, set a bit less than three years prior to Deception; in Retribution, which takes place mere months prior to the events of Deception, Nick was just fifteen.

Gillian’s autism is never mentioned—The closest the book gets is noting that she was an “unstable twelve-year-old” and a passing reference to her having a “temper.” This is not presented as a disability, but rather an adolescent phase she has largely "gotten over."

Hendel Mitra is described as ogling asari strippers, a very heterosexual reaction—Hendel was established as homosexual in Ascension.

Kai Leng enjoys watching an asari dancer, going as far as to wink at her—Kai Leng is physically repulsed by aliens. In Retribution, he is completely uninterested in Liselle’s nudity, thinks of asari as “whorish,” and finds the sights of Afterlife disgusting.

To be honest, none of that really surprises me. When a writer is hired to dip his toes into the expanded universe of a beloved franchise he had no part in creating, mistakes are inevitable.

What did surprise me was the apology issued by BioWare and Del Rey Books:

The teams at Del Rey and BioWare would like to extend our sincerest apologies to the Mass Effect fans for any errors and oversights made in the recent novel Mass Effect: Deception. We are currently working on a number of changes that will appear in future editions of the novel.

So they allowed a flawed product to be released in order to meet a deadline, but promise they'll fix it later? Who do they think they are—Bethesda? 

Adaptation Blues: Resident Evil 5

So I just saw the trailer for Resident Evil: Retribution, the upcoming fifth installment of Paul W.S. Anderson’s cinematic interpretation of Capcom’s cash cow. I find this particular film franchise remarkable: it manages to be more over-the-top than a video game series infamous for its needlessly convoluted storyline and goofy voice acting.

In all honesty, I love these movies. The first Resident Evil had moments of legitimate tension and some tight direction, while Resident Evil: Afterlife (the fourth film) was a roller coaster ride of hilariously incompetent storytelling (the swift demise of Alice’s clone army demonstrates why a writer should never try to sequel bait without considering the payoff). I got excited when I read that Anderson would be providing aspiring screenwriters with yet another model of how not to adapt a beloved franchise and how not to structure a film series.

But nothing could have prepared me for what that trailer revealed.

It starts off innocently enough—like any other Resident Evil teaser, really. It masquerades as one of the Umbrella Corporation’s advertisements before dissolving to apocalyptic imagery (how ironic! Umbrella talks about how technology will improve the world, but then we see it’s caused global devastation). From there, it promises a typical Paul W.S. Anderson production: his godlike Mary Sue upstaging cardboard cutouts named after characters from the games.

Then she shows up, ending the trailer with twenty seconds remaining. If anything interesting or important occurred after her appearance, I missed it; I was too busy shouting, “No. No! No, no, no, no, no!” (My reaction to the Dark Knight Rises trailer wasn’t that strong.)

Michelle Rodriguez is returning—despite the fact that her character, Rain, died at the end of the first movie (the result of zombification and subsequent bullet-induced cranial trauma). And we’re not talking about an insignificant cameo, a brief flashback. No, it seems she will be battling Milla Jovovich as an evil clone of Rain.

Why?

Look, I loved Rodriguez’s work in the first Resident Evil. She brought the right blend of toughness, vulnerability, and humor (“When I get outta here… think I’m gonna get laid”) to the role—her performance was credible enough to make me care when she died, which is more than I can say for the rest of the cast. I understand the appeal of bringing her (and Colin Salmon and Oded Fehr) back from the dead. But it’s still a terrible storytelling decision, for two very important reasons:

1. It makes no sense. Yes, cloning is possible in the Resident Evil universe, as evidenced by Umbrella’s army of Alice clones. But that possibility does not justify cloning just anybody. Umbrella needed to clone Alice to get her superhero blood. Why do they need to clone one of their mercenaries?

2. Even if the clone issue is narratively justified, it still sends a harmful message: nothing matters. Anderson has already demonstrated a willingness to slam his fist down on the reset button when he writes himself into a corner (the clone army, Alice’s super powers, the dried up oceans). This “bad-Rain” development is the straw that breaks the camel’s back—now, even death carries no weight in this series.

Again, how not to adapt a beloved franchise and how not to structure a film series.