More on Pulp Adaptations

I have been giving more thought to the question of movie adaptations of popular pulp heroes recently. The combination of upcoming comic book adaptations and rumors of new pulp adaptations (Conan? Doc Savage? The Shadow? John Carter of Mars? "At the Mountains of Madness"?) has given me reason for both optimism and skepticism. Some of these could be pretty good. Others might have more of a stretch. So I am trying to work out why I am less trusting of some projects than others.

1. Serial characters. Like comic book heroes, the pulps created an enduring series of memorable characters. Also like in comics, these tended to be characters with a few shallow traits. Conan is a strong warrior-king, Doc Savage is a brilliant scientist and crime-fighter, The Shadow is a mysterious vigilante. On a certain level, their stories are pretty uniform, putting each character through the same sorts of challenges in each installment. But, as with comic book characters, the nuances of the stories are what gave the characters depth. Conan might repeatedly fight villains who want to usurp his throne, but in his interactions with other characters, we learn more about him. In a way, the plots that made the stories marketable to the pulps take a back seat to the slow build of character. Because he faces similar problems, watching nuances in Conan's actions helps us see him as more than just an archetype.
However, movie adaptations tend not to achieve this goal. A Conan reboot has been rumored, but this would be one movie. It would probably feature an origin story as its plot, with a representative adventure for the hero. To me, this is the equivalent of reading one Conan story: it might be satisfactory on its own, but it really does not have time to develop its character. Accordingly, the characters will have to remain at their broadest.

2. Mass-market appeal. Speaking of broadness, a movie adaptation has to reach a broad audience, including people not well-versed in the character's mythology. This can be a good stimulus for screenwriters to try to develop a good story independent of canon, but it also means the screenwriters cannot rely on what people might already know about the character. They have to fit everything they think is relevant into the movie. Going back to the Conan example, adapting a later story like "The Tower of the Elephant" or "The Hour of the Dragon" would be difficult because, in addition to all the action and character details inherent in the story, the movie would also have to broadly explain who Conan is to newcomers. Because a movie tends to stand alone (unless some sort of series has already been announced), not explaining the origin of the character can make the story feel shallow. But focusing too much on the origin of character limits the type of story that can be told. Young Conan is interesting, I guess, but I tend to more so enjoy the stories where he is older and losing his grip on his kingdom. They have the pathos of seeing someone who has relied on his own power starting to lose that power, and needing the help of others more and more. I think that would make an interesting Conan story to film, but without first filming (yet another) origin story, I fear that audiences would shrug it off.


(More to come.)

In Which I Grumble About a Childhood Hero

When I was a child, I was really into "The Shadow." One summer my family had gone to visit my grandparents in Illinois, and in a store near them I had found two episodes of the classic crime-fighting radio play on cassette tape, through a company called Radio Spirits. I listened to these two episodes so many times that the tapes gave out. (I learned the extent of my obsession with them when one of the two episodes--"Death From the Deep"--showed up on an OTR podcast I listen to and I caught myself reciting every line as it was being said.)

At that time, these two episodes comprised my total understanding of The Shadow as a character. Well, I also had the flashy illustrations o the cassette cases to inform me that, when Lamont Cranston was in his vigilante alter ego, he wore a slouch hat, red scarf, and a cape. But from these two stories I was able to imagine a limitless "gee-whiz" world of adventures where the hero fought crime by turning himself invisible and basically just screwing with bad guys' brains. Also, I was still young enough to be entertained by common Shadow scenarios, like:

(Bad Guy fires his gun several times)
Bad Guy: Ha! Take that, Shadow!
(The Shadow laughs)
Shadow: Nice try, but now I'm over here!

It seemed so clever when I had only a couple stories in which it happened, before I understood that this plot device would occur with scant variation approximately one hundred ba-jillion times over the course of The Shadow's adventures.

As an adult, I had access to new and exciting technologies (the Internet!) and services (a good public library!) that allowed me to listen to almost all of the episodes of "The Shadow." Also, I finally got a chance to read some of the classic Shadow novels and pulp stories, as written by Walter B. Gibson. Initially this seemed like the fulfillment of some long-dormant childhood dream. What I soon realized, however, was that I was not actually that interested in the further adventures of The Shadow. They were basically the same adventure, over and over. A few episodes of the radio play stood out--if you are interested in The Shadow, I recommend listening to the pilot episode "Death House Rescue"--but for the most part, each story had the same plot arc, and I could be sure that The Shadow would never encounter a problem he could not solve himself, using his innate expertise at every single skill he would ever need. The stories have no tension for me and accordingly, no real interest. By contrast, one of the happiest surprises of my pulp nerdiness was when I finally started reading Robert E. Howard's Conan stories. Unlike Lamont Cranston, who has a ridiculous James-Bond-level mastery of every talent and every scrap of information he could ever need, Conan has all kinds of limitations. He does not know anything about magic, he has no real skill at diplomacy, his temper makes him careless... even in the one domain where he does have the upper hand--the liberal application of swords to bad guys' faces--Howard constantly comes up with clever ways to temporarily disable him, forcing Conan to beg for help, work with people he does not entirely trust, and generally try to think up novel solutions to his problems.

I never would have thought it earlier in life, but I can now say that I prefer Conan the Barbarian to The Shadow as a hero because he is way more plausible, and therefore more interesting.