Friday, April 3, 2015

Steel yourself for disappointment in adaptation of The Book Thief

Book adaptations are always a risky venture. More risky is adapting a renowned book. Brian Percival (Downton Abbey) makes the attempt with Markus Zusak's The Book Thief in his 2014 release of the movie by the same title.

The novel, and by extension, the movie, takes us to Molching, Germany 1939. A young girl is being transported to Hans (Geoffrey Rush) and Rosa (Emily Watson) Hubermann's home--an aging couple who has agreed to foster Liesel Meminger (Sophie Nelisse) and her brother Werner, who dies on the train ride there. While living with the Hubermman's, Liesel must allow herself to get close to others again while slowly gaining understanding of her parents' disappearance, the punishing Nazi Party, and anti-Semitism that surrounds her. As the war continues and tensions rise in Molching, Liesel forges new relationships with her foster parents, a Jewish fist fighter who hides in their basement, and a boy with lemon hair who dies longing for one kiss from Liesel. Each of these relationships is fostered through books, reading, and words.

There are striking moments in the film, most notably the juxtaposition of horror and innocence during the Night of Broken Glass scene. The children's choir sings the Nazi anthem as Jewish shop owners are tossed out of their businesses, and as men and women are clubbed in the street after being ripped from their homes. Also striking is a book burning ceremony, where the mayor's rhetoric reminds the Molching citizens that filth needs to be burned. At the conclusion of the speech, books are burned, the anthem is sung, salutes are given, and the camera pans in on a woman with tears in her eyes--whether of blind obedience or fear is up to the viewer.

Admittedly, there are some difficulties presented to Percival with this book adaptation, the largest obstacle being the book's narrator Death (Roger Allam). How does one aptly translate the narration of this entity, maintaining the sardonic and astute observations of Death without being a distraction to the viewer? Apparently, one does not. Death's narration appears a handful of times--so infrequently that when his observations are piped through the stereo, the viewer has to remind herself who the speaker is.

Even allowing for the difficulty of Death's presence, the movie is underwhelming in its lack of character development, the most endearing and poignant piece of Zusak's novel. Rudy (Nico Liersch), Liesel's best friend and neighbor in Molching, is adorable and endearing in the film; however, his character never goes beyond the love sick puppy missing his dad who is off fighting the war. The outrage over Hitler's murdering prejudice that leads to Rudy's rebellions in the book--standing up to power hungry Hitler Youth members or handing out bread to starving Jews who are marching to Dachau--are not truly addressed, leaving the viewer with no sense of Death's love for the boy Liesel never kisses. He's a secondary character, not one who plays a crucial role as he does in the book.

Similarly, Max (Ben Schnetzer), the Jewish fistfighter, is reduced to a background story, not the crux of Liesel's development and understanding of basic humanity. Liesel arrives to the Hubermanns only knowing what she's been taught to believe by adults and her teachers at the Hitler Youth classes. When this man arrives at the door, nearly dead from hiding and traveling, movie Liesel is curious and eager to get to know the stranger; her earnestness is in contrast to book Liesel, who is nervous, tentative and slightly distrustful of this man she knows is putting her, and her new family, in danger. It is not until Max extends a gift of friendship, a book he writes for her, that their friendship is solidified. In the film's version, Max wakes up and they're friends. There is no bonding over nightmares and the shared guilt that each of them feel having survived while their family members have not--or at least will likely not--come back from wherever they are.

The one shining aspect of the entire film is Rush's performance as Hans Hubermann. He is humble, gentle, funny and exceedingly kind and believable as Hans. From the first time he meets Liesel, nervous and paralyzed in the back of a car, we know this man, her new Papa, will protect her. It is also one of the relationships the film tries to get right. There are certainly elements of bonding from the novel that are not included in the film, but enough of their time together, her reading lessons at night, basement writing lessons, and the comforting sound of the accordion, showcase the loving bond between Liesel and her Papa.

While the viewer should always enter into a movie adaptation with the understanding that the book and the movie are two separate entities, there are important elements that should be included in order to uphold the original sentiment. For viewers who did not read the novel first, the movie comes off as lighter and more superficial than the novel. There is loss, sadness and horror in both the film and the movie, but what the novel is able to do that the movie cannot is display both the vile capabilities of human beings and the the resiliency of the human spirit: the power and the glory of words, and their ability to save lives.