Counterforce

Saw The Time Traveler’s Wife today. It’s… not a great movie. If you never read the truly fantastic book by Audrey Niffenegger, you’re not going to know what the fuck is going on there. Nor will you care. In fact, you’ll desire time travel to take you out of the theater. And you’ll probably never want to pick up the book.

And that, I think, is the film’s greatest flaw.

Adapting a novel is tough work. So few works of prose are really created to be cinematic, and this novel, with dual perspectives, is equally tough. The screenwriter here gave me the same sense when watching some of the latter Harry Potter movies (of which I’ve never read the books): Here’s a list of all the big scenes that have to be in the film because they’re huge in the book. Why are they huge in the book? Sorry, we don’t have time for things like character development or story arcs.

Here’s the gist of how the novel starts: Henry, 28 years old, works in a library in Chicago. One day a 20 year old woman comes in looking for a book. She’s young, gorgeous, and her name’s Clare. She recognizes Henry instantly. She’s ecstatic to see him. He, however, has no clue who she is, and has never seen her before. That throws her for a loop for a moment because she’s known him her entire life, and has been in love with him since she was 6 years old.

Henry’s a time traveler. It’s a genetic disorder, something called chronal displacement. One moment he’s here, and then: he’s not. Poof. Vanished into thin air. Leaving just a pile of clothes wherever he stood. He travels to the past, the present, and the future, constantly anchored in by the big events: Clare, the woman he’ll fall in love with and marry. And his mother, who dies tragically when he’s a young boy. He constantly travels back to the site of her car accident, probably hundreds of times. But you can’t change the past, no matter how hard you try.

And realistically, you can’t change the future either.

The thing that makes the book work so good is that beyond that simple set up of time travel, this is a mature story of romance between two people. And like any real romance, for every happy moment the couple is allowed, they’re forced to live through two moments of pain and suffering. In fact, the ending is absolutely heartbreaking, and what makes it worse is the fact that we’re told what will happen well in advance of the moment it happens. But there’s nothing we can do because just like Henry, we’re slingshot throughout the narrative, going along for the thrilling ride.

None of that applies to the movie, I’m sad to say. Eric Bana and Rachel McAdams, who play Henry and Clare, are great actors. I can’t even begin to think of how much worse this movie would be without them to just make it all… nice. And “worse” is too harsh. Confusing? No, that’s not it.

Even Ebert, who seems to enjoyed the film enough, questions many of the logical flaws of the film’s story in his review, all of which are actually addressed or not present in the book.

Let me put it this way: It’s like someone tried to adapt a synopsis of the book, and not the actual book itself.

In that, they succeeded, which is a shame because this really wouldn’t have – or, shouldn’t have – been that hard to bring to the screen properly. In fact, had it been done so right, this would’ve been that new, crazy tragic love story that people go to see over and over again. I believe that’s why the book became such a mega best seller.

One last night, about the music: In the novel, Henry and Clare are going through what you might call their present day courtship in the 90s, but are both obsessed with the great American punk bands of the 70s. In fact, some of Henry’s preaching about the primal animal rebellious spirit of mankind being turned into music and called punk rock is a bit ridiculous, but you get the point. The man knows his shit. It’s such a shame that instead of that, in the film, you get a single by Lifehouse of all bands.

Odder still: In the film, not only is the song used, but members of Broken Social Scene actually perform a cover of “Love Will Tear Us Apart.” In fact, it’s the first dance of the newly married Henry and Clare as family and friends watch. It’s… kind of creepy. A touch romantic, yes, but really creepy. Perhaps as it should be.