It's rainy and cold in DC today: perfect movie-going weather. So I went to see Wild, which I've been looking forward to seeing since learned it was being adapted into a film. I devoured the book, and when I found out that Nick Hornby was writing the screenplay I knew it would be a good adaptation. I was right; the movie is an excellent adaptation, perhaps as good as the adaptation of High Fidelity. If I didn't like Hornby's novels so much, I might suggest that he go into the book adaptation business full-time.
The book, like the movie, is the story of Cheryl Strayed's journey hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from California to Oregon. She goes on the hike a few years after the death of her mother, and a little while after the disintegration of her family, her marriage, and herself. I had a couple thoughts about movie (and book):
First, men are portrayed as being alternately creepy and wonderful, a combination which strikes me as largely true. There's a lot of the "hey, baby, let's have a drink," and "darlin', gimme a smile" vibe coming from some of the men that Strayed encounters, a vibe that is counterbalanced by the earnest brotherly camaraderie of the other half of the men she meets. I have never traveled alone for longer than a few days, but every interaction she has with the men she meets along the trail, both good and bad, struck me as accurate to life. This shouldn't be so remarkable, except I can't remember ever having this reaction to a movie before. There's usually a good vs. evil view of men in movies; they're either sinners or heroes. This was a much more ambivalent view.
Second, I left the movie with the same lingering thought as I did when I finished the book, which is: it is difficult to write a Goes Through Hard Times genre of memoir without seeming like a big whiner. Strayed loses a great deal in the movie, but some of the worst losses are of her own doing. The only thing that saves the book (and perhaps to a lesser extent the movie) is that Strayed is self-aware enough to know when she's acting like a giant asshole. (By contrast, Eat Pray Love sucked because the author had no idea what a tool she was.) I have sympathy for Strayed, but it's hard not to see a lot of Wild as a exercise in stupidity and self-destruction rather than self-discovery and perseverance. Overall, Wild encourages a dangerous amount of feeling, and suggests that it's ok for us to act on our feelings no matter the consequences. I don't think that's a good message. But then again, a movie about a reasonable and grounded woman wouldn't be half as interesting.
The soundtrack to the movie is top-notch, though. It had been a long time since I heard El Condor Pasa (If I Could) by Simon and Garfunkel. An excellent choice.
The book, like the movie, is the story of Cheryl Strayed's journey hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from California to Oregon. She goes on the hike a few years after the death of her mother, and a little while after the disintegration of her family, her marriage, and herself. I had a couple thoughts about movie (and book):
First, men are portrayed as being alternately creepy and wonderful, a combination which strikes me as largely true. There's a lot of the "hey, baby, let's have a drink," and "darlin', gimme a smile" vibe coming from some of the men that Strayed encounters, a vibe that is counterbalanced by the earnest brotherly camaraderie of the other half of the men she meets. I have never traveled alone for longer than a few days, but every interaction she has with the men she meets along the trail, both good and bad, struck me as accurate to life. This shouldn't be so remarkable, except I can't remember ever having this reaction to a movie before. There's usually a good vs. evil view of men in movies; they're either sinners or heroes. This was a much more ambivalent view.
Second, I left the movie with the same lingering thought as I did when I finished the book, which is: it is difficult to write a Goes Through Hard Times genre of memoir without seeming like a big whiner. Strayed loses a great deal in the movie, but some of the worst losses are of her own doing. The only thing that saves the book (and perhaps to a lesser extent the movie) is that Strayed is self-aware enough to know when she's acting like a giant asshole. (By contrast, Eat Pray Love sucked because the author had no idea what a tool she was.) I have sympathy for Strayed, but it's hard not to see a lot of Wild as a exercise in stupidity and self-destruction rather than self-discovery and perseverance. Overall, Wild encourages a dangerous amount of feeling, and suggests that it's ok for us to act on our feelings no matter the consequences. I don't think that's a good message. But then again, a movie about a reasonable and grounded woman wouldn't be half as interesting.
The soundtrack to the movie is top-notch, though. It had been a long time since I heard El Condor Pasa (If I Could) by Simon and Garfunkel. An excellent choice.
No comments:
Post a Comment