Sunday, 7 March 2021

Can You Cite It? Crimson Skies

Despite this pandemic, I've mostly been trying to keep busy with university. Since I haven't done much blogging, I decided to talk about some stuff I've been reading recently. One of my third year modules is on genre fiction, and I decided to do a dieselpunk story based on an urban myth I stumbled across while researching something else. Hey, if you can cite it, then it's technically work, right?

Anyway, for some craft reading, I've been looking at a classic example of the dieselpunk genre; Crimson Skies. Initially conceived as a board game by Jordan Weissman and Dave McCoy, Crimson Skies takes place in an alternative history in which the United States fragmented in the 1920s over a combination of Prohibition (which failed to be ratified into the Constitution), a flu epidemic, and the Wall Street Crash. By 1937, the USA (and, by extension, Canada) has become 23 separate nations. With most roads and railways now crossing hostile borders, zeppelins, planes, and autogyros have become the primary modes of transportation. This has given rise to air piracy, prompting the establishment of new government air militias to battle these pirate gangs (and each other).

In 2000, the setting was adapted into an arcade-style flying game which follows the adventures The Fortune Hunters, a pirate gang led by self-proclaimed gentleman thief Nathan Zachary, as they pull off daring heists across the new American nations. They tangle with numerous air militias, pirate gangs, private security firms, and even a few non-American nations with interests in some regions. I haven't played the game (apparently it's hard to run on newer operating systems), but I've watched some Let's Play videos on YouTube. The Fortune Hunters have an endearing sense of camaraderie, along with a strict code which puts them a cut above the other pirates they encounter. All-in-all, the game has a campy Indiana Jones feel to it, reminiscent of the pulp magazines of the time.

There was a sequel, Crimson Skies: High Road to Revenge, which was released on the original Xbox in 2003. I haven't played that one either, and have heard it takes a darker tone.

In addition to the board game, two video games, and a collectible miniatures game, there's also a series of books, known as "Spicy Air Tales". Many of these seem to be out of print and hard to find, but I found some digital versions available for free on a fan site, which have made some fun reads:

  • Diamond Deception by Brannon Boren centres around Justine "Battle-axe" Perot, the leader of an all-female pirate gang known as The Medusas. After a battle with the Fortune Hunters in Hawaii (as depicted in the game's early missions), Justine attempts to steal a valuable diamond necklace from a Manhattan socialite in the Empire State (a nation encompassing New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania). After a narrow escape, the socialite is later found murdered, and the stolen necklace is determined to be fake, catapulting the Medusas into a deadly intrigue.
  • Paladin Blake and the Secret City by Eric Nylund follows Paladin Blake, the head of Blake Aviation Security which protects commercial transports from pirates. Basically combining two archetypal pulp heroes (the ace pilot and the hardboiled detective), Blake is forced to contact his brother (who's a notorious air pirate) after their sister apparently disappeared.
  • The Manchurian Gambit by Mike Lee features The Red Skull Legion, a pirate gang from the Industrial States of America (whose capital is Chicago) led by Jonathan "Genghis" Khan. After a botched heist in The People's Collective (a Christian socialist nation in the Midwest), Khan meets an old acquaintance who hires him for an apparent rescue mission which becomes increasingly complicated.
  • Stripped of Honor by Geoff Skellams focuses on Major Loyle "Showstopper" Crawford, a New York playboy who commands the elite Madison Venturer squadron of Empire State's Broadway Bombers militia. During a botched mission at a pirate base, Crawford begins to suspect that there's a traitor in his squadron, and is soon framed for piracy and disgraced. Escaping from prison, he goes on a quest to find the traitor and clear his name.
There are two other stories I have yet to read, which follow Charlotte "Charlie" Steele, an ace in the service of California's Hollywood Knights air militia.

The stories often combine aerial dogfights with film noir mystery and intrigue. While each chapter seems to remind you of who everyone is, I imagine that this was a deliberate move; it was common for a lot pulp fiction of the time period to be serialised in magazines, so I think these stories are trying to recreate that.

I think it's a shame that this franchise never really went anywhere since 2003 (although I have heard that Microsoft renewed the trademark for the video games in 2013). I suppose one issue is that one of the nations in this alternate world is akin to a new Confederacy, so I can understand why some people are uncomfortable with that.

Anyway, that's about it. I wanted to talk about a series which hasn't got a lot of attention, and has still been an influence on my work.

Happy writing.

Wednesday, 27 January 2021

A Study of Adaptation: 12 Angry Men (contains spoilers)


This blog's been dormant too. Third year's keeping me busy, but I'm not feeling very motivated right now. At the time of writing, I haven't had any work back, so I don't know whether or not I've made the jump from second to third year.

Anyway, while procrastinating, I found on YouTube a stage production of one of my favourite films: 12 Angry Men. Initially a teleplay written in 1954 by Reginald Rose, this story about a jury deliberating over a murder trial was adapted into film in 1957 by Sidney Lumet. The production I saw was from 2012.

The story is largely untouched. The defendant is a teenage boy from a New York City slum who is on trial for allegedly stabbing his father to death and facing the electric chair for first degree murder. Most of the jurors are eager to bring back a guilty verdict then and there, except for Juror #8, who votes 'Not Guilty' because he believes there needs to be a discussion to rule out reasonable doubt.

Of course, because this an adaptation to another medium (stage to screen), some changes have to be made to accommodate this. Some changes pay off. Others...not so much.

One notable example of this occurs near the end of the story: When all of the evidence has been called into question, all the jurors are now in favour of acquittal except for Juror #3, who has been the most passionate advocate for a guilty verdict. He rants about "twisted facts" as it becomes increasingly clear that he's mainly motivated by bitterness over the strained relationship with his own son (building on an earlier scene where he discussed it). In the film, he tears up a photo of him and his son before breaking into tears and changing his vote. Of course, that requires some cinematography you wouldn't have on stage. Instead, he has his rant, and then cries by the window. Juror #8 simply says "He's not your boy. He's someone else." Juror #4 - who had been one of the more rational advocates for a guilty verdict - adds "Let him live." It's still powerful, and it still works.

One change I didn't agree with occurred just before that: Juror #4 explains that he's still voting 'Guilty' because an eyewitness stands as solid evidence, until they bring her eyesight into question. In the film, Juror #9 - the first juror to support Juror #8 - notices Juror #4 rubbing his nose and points out that the witness had the same impressions on her nose as Juror #4, from his glasses. This indicates that the witness also wore glasses, but didn't wear them to court out of vanity. Fair enough, that would require close-ups. In the play, #4 puts on his glasses as he struggles to view the clock, which Juror #8 points out. It's then stated that the witness was wearing glasses in court. I just can't help but feel that would have been called into question during the trial, and feels lazy. I was also disappointed that it's Juror #8 rather than Juror #9 who points this out, which was one of his best moments in the film. It all felt a little rushed.

One thing I did like was that they tried to expand on some elements not covered in the film. For example, they discuss why the defendant had bought the knife which was seen as the murder weapon. They also discuss other people who may have had a motive for murdering the victim.

I also like some the humour they injected into it. In what leads what leads up to a pivotal moment, Juror #2 brings up why the defendant would stab downwards into somebody taller than him. Juror #3 offers a demonstration and asks for a volunteer, which prompts Juror #2 to immediately sit down.

As for the characterisation, I felt like Juror #8 felt a little whiny in this version. Henry Fonda was always calm and collected in the film. The stage version sounded a little timid. I mean, fair enough, it does convey the daunting side of standing alone against the opinion of others. But if they were going for that, they could have made him sound more confident as the story went on. He sounds too much like Juror #2, who is characterised as being timid and easily dominated.

Before I go, there is one last thing I'm ambivalent about, and that's the decision to keep the story in the 1950s rather than updating the setting, which also means all the characters are played by white men. Although I haven't seen it yet, I'd compare this with 1997 remake of the film, which has some of the jurors being played by black actors (albeit still all male). Even Juror #5 - who was raised in a slum similar to the defendant's - is played by a white actor. I suppose they wanted to focus on the class differences rather than race. But I do realise that modernising the story also reduces the stakes unless they change the setting; the defendant is facing a death sentence, but the state of New York formally abolished the death sentence in 2007. There's also an Iron Curtain element with Juror #11, an immigrant from an unspecified European country (In the film, he's played by the Czechoslovakian Georges Voskovec, while in the play he has a German accent). The character exhibits pride in the American legal system and takes his duty very seriously, suggesting he was originally from a Soviet nation in Eastern Europe. That said, I do quite like how the stage version calls people out a lot more.

All-in-all, it was a mixed bag. But it was still nice to see an alternative version of one of my favourite stories.

Tuesday, 2 June 2020

End of the Second Year

I've pretty much come to the end of my second year of university, and I have to say that this has been more of a mixed bag, despite a promising start. I've wanted to try and socialise with classmates a little more. I did this a fair bit in the first term, but after Christmas this aspect of my social life fizzled out.

One thing that I have struggled with has been my timetable. I had 9:00 am workshops this year, and the single honours modules in the same week. In my first year, I didn't have anything before 11:00, meaning I was able to get a consistent sleep cycle. Tuesday was always my busiest day, with a two hour workshop on Writing Identity in the morning, an hour break, and then a three hour workshop for Reading for Craft or Shaping Ideas, switching between them each week. This year, my single honours modules were Storycraft and Personal Projects, on the same week but different days. So, I'd switch between a week where I have hardly anything and a week where I have everything.

I joined a lot more societies this year, including Creative Writing, Nintendo, and Medieval Reenactment (which did mean I left the fencing club due to scheduling clashes). I'm still treasurer for the Game Society, and that's still going strong. I'm also the chairperson for Laser Tag, but membership has been down, and I fear we won't have enough people to fill the committee roles needed to keep the society going. Medieval Reenactment is fun, albeit expensive. Although making your own kit can be a pain. Especially when your sewing machines aren't behaving.

I'm getting more players at the Game Society, all of whom I've managed to introduce to my favourite Savage Worlds roleplaying system. In the first term I ran Deadlands Noir, an urban fantasy which combines horror, dieselpunk, and film noir. In the second term I ran Lankhmar: City of Thieves, s sword-and-sorcery based on the writing of Fritz Leiber. I was also invited to run games at a local board gaming cafe, Bean Gaming. I thought it would be a great opportunity to introduce more players to Savage Worlds. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get players and discontinued the sessions.

The second term was the toughest, especially the Word, Image, and Sound module. We had a different tutor after Christmas, who didn't explain things as well as the one we had in the first term.

And then the UCU Strike happened. All but one of my workshops were cancelled (and the one that wasn't was a 9:00 am). And when that was winding down, the university closed in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. The university eventually granted a blanket two-week extension to all assignments due after 30th March. They later implemented a "No-detriments" policy for those same assignments; as long as they pass, they won't be marked lower than anything already marked for that module. I don't if I've read that correctly. The last assignment I had back was the only assignment for that particular module, so wouldn't be subject to the policy. I'll find out soon enough.

But the university will still be tighter than a duck's arse when it comes to refunding tuition fees. I learned from a tutor on the picket lines that the union agreed to a move in which the university would donate pay withheld from those on strike to the Student Hardship Fund (which I may have leaked on Facebook before the university announced it). The move just screamed "half measure", and tied the money up in so much red tape that few people could actually get it.

At least when the strikes were on, the societies were still running. The university seemed to dither over closure in the week before lockdown, while the societies wrapped up. That was one of the most stressful weeks I've had. The strike was still going on, so I wasn't able to get responses from many lecturers about deadlines and extensions, all while my social life just up and vanished. I made a spur of the moment decision to go home at the end of the week, so I wasn't spending the lockdown on my own. Fortunately, my accommodation provider made allowances for this. I haven't been charged rent for the third term, even though I'd left most of my stuff behind and hadn't handed back the keys. And I was able to collect things last week.

Going home prematurely has been the most difficult thing. Summer gets lonely, and there isn't much to do back home even if there isn't a pandemic. Fortunately, I'm still taking part in roleplaying games as both a GM and a player, thanks to virtual tabletops like Fantasy Grounds and Roll20. I'm trying to arrange a virtual get-together with my classmates this week, but I don't know if it'll work out.

Only time will tell.

Wednesday, 4 December 2019

Could Clerks be considered an adaptation of Waiting for Godot?

I'm almost at the end of the first term at my second year of university, which includes an elective module on 20th and 21st Century Literature. One of the pieces looked at in this module was Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot. As I was discussing it in the workshop, I found myself thinking about the 1994 Kevin Smith film, Clerks, and began drawing parallels between the two works.

For those who don't know, Waiting for Godot follows the philosophical Vladimir and weary Estragon as they wait for another person named Godot. The play consists of two acts in which they try and pass the time as they wait, while they meet three other characters: a silent, baggage-burdened slave named Lucky; his imperious master, Pozzo; and a boy who claims to be relaying a message from Godot.

I...wasn't keen. It's difficult for a play like that to keep people interested for two acts. Anyway, I began thinking about Clerks, because that's what I'd prefer to see. It was then that I realised that Clerks could be considered an adaptation of (or at least influenced by) Waiting for Godot.

Clerks follows a day in the life of Dante Hicks, a put-upon convenience store clerk working on his day off (which he'll remind you of constantly). Also present is his best friend Randall Graves, an irresponsible slacker who works at the neighbouring video rental but spends most of his time hanging around the convenience store with Dante. The film has the pair discussing various topics to pass the time while dealing with a variety of customers.

Now we've got the set-up, we can compare them. Dante is similar to Estragon, while Randall is Vladimir. There plenty of minor characters, but Pozzo and Lucky could be represented by Jay and Silent Bob, a pair of drug dealers who loiter outside the video store. Jay is obnoxious and wisecracking, while Silent Bob lives up to his name and doesn't say anything.

Dante's unseen boss would represent Godot, who never appears. The film opens with Dante being called by his boss to cover a sick employee's morning shift. Dante agrees, but later discovers that his boss has gone away on a trip, meaning he has to tend the store until closing time. A parallel can be drawn with Godot; near the end of the first act, a boy tells Estragon and Vladimir that Godot will meet them tomorrow, and he never shows up.

Clerks also expands on Waiting for Godot by incorporating more substance into the story. One overarching element is Dante's love triangle with his ex-girlfriend Caitlin Bree and his current girlfriend Veronica Loughran. While love triangles don't always make the best stories, it shows how an adaptation can also serve as an expansion.

I think I'll wrap things up there, because I'm rambling again, but I'll be more than happy to discuss things further. I probably would have done this as an essay in last year's Adaptation module if I'd looked at it back then.

Saturday, 17 August 2019

Zorro (A Belated Centenary)

So, while I was busy with my annual visit to the Swanwick Writers' Summer School, I realised that I forgot it was a certain literary figure's 100th birthday last Friday. I consider myself a pulp writer, and one of my favourite books in that field is Johnston McCulley's The Curse of Capistrano. First serialised in All-Story Weekly on 9th August 1919, this story marked the debut of Zorro. This masked Californian swordsman combines two of my favourite sub-genres of historical fiction; the Western and the Swashbuckler. It's also an interesting study of adaptation.

The Curse of Capistrano takes place in California in the early 19th century, although it never establishes exactly when it's set (presumably when it's still under Spanish rule). There are several plot threads, so I'll try and introduce them through the characters:

  • A masked swordsman known only as "SeƱor Zorro" has been striking at those who bully and abuse others. 
  • The blowhard Sergeant Gonzales is eager to apprehend this outlaw, and boasts about it to his good friend Don Diego Vega, the lazy and foppish son of the wealthy and respected Don Alejandro Vega. 
  • Don Diego is being pressured by his father to find a wife, and half-heartedly courts Lolita Purlido, whose aristocratic family are out of favour with the governor and have fallen on hard times
  • Captain Ramon, the local garrison commander, also courts Lolita and is confronted by Zorro when he makes improper advances
The earlier instalments use the Point-of-View of Gonzales or Lolita rather than Zorro, allowing the masked hero to surprise the viewer. In fact, the book doesn't actually reveal Zorro's identity until the end of the penultimate chapter.

Not long after publication, the story was picked up by then-recently established United Artists and adapted into The Mark of Zorro, a 1920 silent film starring Douglas Fairbanks. One of the biggest changes made in the film was to Zorro's appearance. Zorro is described in the book as having "a black mask over his face that effectually concealed his features, and through the two slits in it his eyes glittered ominously." In the film, this was replaced with a domino mask which covers the top half of his face. As this was a silent film, this would have been a necessary change. After all, a Hollywood swashbuckler can't look dashing behind a veil. Especially when a lack of dialogue makes an expressive face essential. In fact, Douglas Fairbanks looked so distinct in the new costume that he would serve as the basis for all subsequent adaptations of Zorro.

The film was so successful that The Curse of Capistrano would eventually be republished as a standalone book in 1924 under the title of The Mark of Zorro. Furthermore, it ended up creating a demand for further stories. Which is interesting, because the book and the film both end with Diego's secret identity becoming public knowledge. So, McCulley changed this through retroactive continuity ("retconning"), and went on to write four more novels and 57 short stories, starting with The Further Adventures of Zorro in 1922, and ending with The Mask of Zorro, which was published posthumously in 1959. And that's not going into the various other adaptations on TV, film, and in print.

While often overlooked, Zorro could actually be regarded as a precursor to many superheroes. Batman draws many paralells with Zorro, with Bruce Wayne acting like a shallow millionaire while leading a double life as a masked vigilante. Bob Kane has cited Zorro as an influence. Some Batman origin stories have even alluded to this by having Bruce Wayne's parents being killed as they're leaving a cinema which was showing The Mask of Zorro.

Zorro himself could also be considered an appropriation of Baroness Orczy's The Scarlet Pimpernel. Sir Percival Blakeney is another affluent and foppish nobleman who secretly leads an organisation dedicated to helping refugees escape from Revolutionary France. 

The Curse of Capistrano is public domain in the United States, and available to read on WikiSource. However, I've found that Bold Adventure Press have gathered the old stories (many of which are hard to find) and have published a six-volume set. Having enjoyed reading The Curse of Capistrano, I'm looking forward to a chance to read some of the other stories.

Friday, 16 August 2019

Work Share - The Forbidden Mountain

This might be one of my strangest pieces, written for the Shaping Ideas module. This piece was a parody of The Warlock of Firetop Mountain, featuring The Bayfalls, a dysfunctional family of Dungeons & Dragons-style adventurers. Heroic fantasy and comedy are not genres I usually write in, so this was way out of my comfort zone. Personally, I wasn't too happy with piece, and felt it could work better as a script rather than as prose.

The Road to Adventure

Arthur Bayfalls viewed the mountain enveloped in black cloud in the distance. His mail hauberk rattled as he marched along the dirt road.
“We’ll rest here.” He sat on a moss-covered rock and watched his family catch up with him. His wife, Jane, sat next to him and pulled a map from her satchel.
“We’ll be at the village of Allwood before sunset,” She said, “Then it’s another two days before we reach the mountain.”
“Looks like a cheery place,” His son Johnny walked a gold piece across his hand.
“It’s called The Forbidden Mountain, smart arse,” Arthur glared at him, “Were you expecting sunshine and rainbows?”
“Dad, tons of places have ‘Forbidden Mountains’ or ‘Forbidden Castles’ or ‘Forbidden Golf Courses’. They just do it to attract adventurers. There’s probably a gift shop at the summit. Why’d you have to drag me out of bed for this ‘heroic quest’ bullshit?”
Jane drove her staff into Johnny’s foot.
“Because I’ve been tasked by Wardale’s council to hunt down the Warlock who inhabits the dungeon beneath the mountain, and your father thought it would be a good way to spend time together as a family.” She said, “And don’t think I don’t know what you get up to when you ‘work nights’. We only allow it because your skills are of use in places such as this.”
“Alright,” Johnny winced as Jane twisted the staff, “But I won’t be of any use if I’m hopping.”
Johnny’s younger sister Alyn stepped forward.
“This is the first dungeon crawl we’ve been on in a while,” she said, “And it’s the school holidays, so it’s nice to get out and about.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said, “And since dad was caught brawling before dusk again, he was booted out of town.”
Arthur stamped on the ground.
“If you’ve finished quarrelling, we’ve got a quest to go on.” He said, “Yes, I’m only here because the council wanted me out of town for a little bit. But we can all get stuff out of it.”
He pointed at Jane.
“Darling, you’ve got a good head for riddles, and you can work your magic in these places. And taking down warlocks always sits well with your council of pointy hats.”
“The Wizard Council.” Jane said.
“Whatever,” Arthur pointed to Johnny, “What better man than Johnny Lightfingers to disable traps and open locked doors? And maybe there’ll be treasure. There usually is.”
“Which you’ll be asking for to pay your fine.” Johnny folded his arms.
“We’ll see…” Arthur pointed at Alyn, “And we’d be dead without your Thoughts and Prayers to heal our wounds. What do your gods say about people who sell their souls?”
“Nosenra says they can become a danger to the rest of us.” Alyn raised her crossed fingers, “But killing them is a last resort.”
“There is isn’t a first resort.”
“Your father’s right,” Jane said, “We all stand to gain from this quest. And it’s been a while since any of us have had a family holiday.”
Arthur drew his sword and held it aloft.
“Then let’s find this Warlock and kick his stinking magic buttocks!”

Allwood

The sun set as Arthur led the family into Allwood. He saw a mix of stone cottages with thatched roofs and timber buildings with wattle and daub walls. The smell of manure greeted him as local villagers walked past on their daily business. The first two-storey building in sight had a hanging sign depicting a muscular unicorn, captioned The Herculean Unicorn.
“Jane, what’s that word before the unicorn?” Arthur pointed at the sign.
“Herculean,” She said, “It means ‘strong’.”
“Why?” Johnny scratched his head, “Who came up with that?”
“They must have been someone from another dimension’s mythos.” Jane said, “I mean, we fight monsters from other mythologies, why not give the heroes a mention?”

*

The interior of The Green Dragon smelt of wood smoke. Arthur exchanged passing glances with the patrons at the tables, but heard the bards continue their piece. He noticed swords on their belts or axes resting by their stools, and saw Alyn grip the holy symbol around her neck.
“This must be an adventuring town,” Johnny said, “Your…quest may not as grand as you think.”
Arthur ignored his son’s remark, and approached the bar. A portly figure with a black beard stood in wait. A badge on his tunic said “I am Error.”
“Error?” Arthur raised his brow.
“It’s pronounced ‘E-roar’ actually,” The innkeeper said, “Welcome to Allwood. Judging by your attire, you must be adventurers. Have you travelled far?”
“From Wardale,” Arthur held up a purse, “We’re going after the Warlock tomorrow.”
The conversations fell silent. Arthur rested his hand on his sword as he felt everyone looking in his direction.
“I suppose someone’s going to tell us to stay away from the mountain,” Johnny said.
The entire inn erupted in a fit of laughter.
“I’m sorry to burst your bubble,” Error said, “But there is no Warlock inhabiting the Forbidden Mountain. The Reeve just made up that story to try and save the village economy. But if you do wish to travel there, they do have a lovely gift shop.”
“Called it!” Johnny clapped.
Arthur gaped at the innkeeper.
“So, there’s no treasure?” He said.
“Oh, there is treasure.” The innkeeper opened his tunic. Beneath it he wore a white t-shirt.
“I found the Treasure of The Forbidden Mountain.” Jane read the shirt’s slogan.
“That one was complementary for the shopkeepers.” Error knocked on the counter. The other patrons stood up and revealed their shirts, which bore the same slogan.
Arthur hunched on the bar.
“What’s the strongest ale you’ve got?” He said, “I’ll need more than Hell in a Handcart.”
“There’s Bubonic Damnation.” Error said, prompting a collective gasp from the patrons.
“Arthur, no!” Jane grabbed his shoulder, “Sorry, he was temporarily banished from our hometown for brawling before dusk. What other ales do you serve?”
“There’s Jolly Warlock,” Error pointed to a cask behind him, “That’s a local brew.”
“We’ll have three pints of that,” Jane said.
“And a glass of milk, please.” Alyn raised her hand.

*

Arthur hunched on the table and stared at the bottom of his tankard.
“You shouldn’t feel sad, father.” Alyn patted his shoulder, “It’s nice to get out and about, and anywhere outside Wardale is an adventure. I’m sure there are other evils we need to protect people from in the name of Nosenra.”
“Polish your halo,” Johnny leaned back and sipped his pint, “The call of adventure is like a stew; you prepare it, and then you go to the tavern while you let it simmer.”
“Or you burn the place down with a drunken fry-up,” Jane glared at him.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Johnny looked away from his mother. He smiled as a barmaid arrived with a platter of bread and cheese.
“More ale!” Arthur raised his tankard, “A man could die of thirst in this place.”
“Manners, father.” Alyn pointed her mace at him, “Don’t make me smite you.”
“Another ale, please.” Arthur said to the barmaid.
“Same again?” The barmaid took his tankard, “Or do you want something stronger? It’s almost nightfall.”
“Then it’s almost my bedtime,” Alyn stood up.
“Johnny, take your sister up to the rooms.” Jane said.
“Fine,” Johnny stood up, “Something tells me you’ll need Thoughts and Prayers before the morning.”

Arthur watched his son and daughter go upstairs. He noticed Error duck behind the bar and pull a long cord. A bell chimed. Arthur rubbed his hands.
“Hear that, darling?” He downed his pint in one gulp, “They’ve just rang us in.”
“Oh no…” Jane massaged her temples.
“That’s right!” Arthur picked up his stool, “Tavern brawl!”

A cheer rose from the other patrons. Stools scraped and battle cries drowned out the music. The bards on the stage began playing with a faster tempo.
Arthur smashed the stool into a warrior who advanced on him.
“Care to join the fun?” He turned to Jane.
“Ferrum Deflectere!” Jane gestured and tapped her staff against the floor. A flying tankard curved around her.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Arthur clotheslined a charging elf, “Good night dear.”
He watched her shove and weave through the crowd and run upstairs. Another fighter charged after her. His battle cry came to a higher pitched crescendo and sudden stop before he tumbled back down.
“Oi! That’s my wife!” Arthur charged through the melee and grabbed the man before he reached the bottom of the stairs. He threw him into the people he’d charged through. They cleared the way for a shirtless figure, who cracked his knuckles.
Arthur charged again. The man grabbed his arm and swung him around. Arthur yelled as he crashed into a table.
“What just happened?” Arthur spat out broken teeth
“The aggressor’s down!” He heard Error’s voice above the ringing in his ears, “He gets the bill!”

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Sunday, 4 August 2019

A Study of Adaptation - Octopussy and The Living Daylights

Well, it's the final stretch. Octupussy and the Living Daylights was the final entry in Fleming's book series, published posthumously in 1966. However, like For Your Eyes Only, this is a short story collection rather than a novel. So, I'll go through them in turn again. This may take a while.

The first story, Octopussy, follows Bond as he's sent to Jamaica to bring in Major Dexter Smythe, who had murdered an Austrian mountain guide (and childhood mentor of Bond) in order to steal a cache of Nazi gold. The story is mostly told in flashback, and has Smythe as the main point-of-view character, who has been drinking heavily since his wife's suicide and is taking care of an octopus which gives the story its title.

Octopussy was the title of the thirteenth Bond film, released in 1983. However, it's not really a direct adaptation, but uses the events of the short story as a backstory. Bond is sent to investigate a smuggling ring in India, where he meets a smuggler known Octopussy. It's then revealed that Octopussy is Major Smythe's daughter, who is indebted to Bond for allowing her father to end his life on his own terms rather than go back to England and face a court martial.

Next, we have The Property of a Lady, which was originally written in 1963 after being commissioned by Sotheby's, and first published in their annual journal, The Ivory Hammer. Bond is sent to Sotheby's to attend the auction of a Faberge egg, which is being used to pay a known KGB double agent in London. Bond's mission is to identify the agents handler, who may be deliberately underbidding in order to drive up the price.

The events of The Property of a Lady were used in the film adaptation of Octopussy, and expanded upon. In the film, Bond attends the auction of the Faberge egg after a counterfeit one was found on a dead British agent who had arrived at the British embassy in East Berlin. The title is also referenced in the lot title. Instead of a KGB agent, Bond identifies the exiled Afghan prince Kamal Khan, and travels to India to investigate him further.

It's likely that the filmmakers felt they didn't have enough to work with in both those short stories. A similar thing happened with For Your Eyes Only, which used events from the short stories For Your Eyes Only and Risico, along with an unused element from Live and Let Die.

In The Living Daylights, Bond is assigned to assist a defector in Berlin, providing sniper cover as he crosses a No Man's Land. He's also assigned to eliminate a KGB assassin known only as "Trigger", who will try and kill the defector. Bond then discovers that Trigger is a cellist from an all-female orchestra he'd seen travelling to rehearsal, and disobeys orders by disarming her instead of killing her.

The Living Daylights was the fifteenth film in the series, released in 1987. Again, this one tried to expand the story. The setting is moved from Berlin to Bratislava, but pretty much follows the events of the short story. While the short story implied that the cellist was an assassin, the film makes Bond suspect that she wasn't an assassin and that the defection was staged. So when the defector, General Koskov, is seemingly abducted by the KGB from the MI6 safehouse, Bond seeks out the cellist, Kara Milovy. What follows is a story reminiscent of The Third Man.

Finally, we have 007 in New York. Which is just a travel journal with a recipe for scrambled eggs. Go figure.

Well, that about wraps it up. Looking over these, I'd say that there were plenty of reasons for making changes in the film adaptations. This could be from having little material to work with, or the need to sanitise the stories.

Happy writing.

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