Saturday, August 14, 2010

Book vs. Film: The Killer Inside Me



"Oh, the book's always better than the movie."

Well, the recurring feature Book vs. Film aims to put that maxim to the test.  I'll compare the novelistic and cinematic versions of a narrative, noting what each does better than the other, and concluding by offering a comparative ranking. (A word of warning: unlike standard book and movie reviews, this feature presumes the audience is already familiar with the subject being discussed.  Plot spoilers could be included in the commentary.)

The ranking will be done on a 10-points-total system.  Imagine that there are ten gold coins to be placed on the opposing arms of a scale.  If both the book and film were considered to be on the same level quality-wise, then the coins would be distributed evenly and the final result would be 5-5.  If the book was deemed slightly better than the movie, the scoring might be something like 6-4 (tilting the imaginary scales to the left); if the film version totally outshined the novel, then a 2-8 or even a 1-9 slant could result.

First up: the 2010 adaptation of Jim Thompson's 1952 crime novel The Killer Inside Me.

Casey Affleck (Gone, Baby, Gone; The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) is perfectly cast as as small-town sheriff Lou Ford, a seeming rube who's really a ruthless sociopath.  The key distinction is that the novel's storyline is filtered completely through Lou's first-person narration, whereas the film (which make surprisingly limited use of voiceover) views Lou for the most part from the outside-in.  So while Lou's narration in the novel has the potential to charm some readers into mistaking him as a sympathetic (if not anti-heroic) figure, the movie fully exposes him as a despicable sadist.  Perhaps the only thing more chilling than being up close and personal with a killer's thoughts is seeing his actions dramatized in graphic detail (as in the respective scenes where Affleck's character pummels female leads Jessica Alba and Kate Hudson).

The film is remarkably faithful to the plot of the book, but some key aspects of that plot (e.g. the backstory involving the death of Lou's foster brother, Mike) are quickly conveyed via dialogue, which could be confusing to moviegoers who haven't read Thompson's text.  Similarly, the movie glosses over (by means of a rapid-fire montage flashback) Lou's childhood initiation into sadomasochistic sex--to the point where the viewer can't even be sure who the corrupting female figure actually is.

On the other hand, the film gives a much stronger sense of setting.  The external world of mid-20th Century Texas is more fully realized--the cars, the clothes, the streets and homes.  Also, the film's soundtrack makes pointed use of period music, such as Spade Cooley's hit song "Shame on You."

The character of Lou's love interest, Amy Stanton (played by Kate Hudson) is better developed in the novel.  In the movie, she comes across as little more than an ill-tempered nympho, and the heartfelt letter she writes Lou accordingly does not have the same emotional punch as it does in the book.

One pet peeve I've always had with the novel is that it ultimately violates its first-person p.o.v. (i.e. the assumption that the speaker has survived to tell his tale in retrospect).  The externalized perspective of the film avoids such complications.  The film's concluding scene also illustrates a shift in Lou's motivations (vs. the climax of the book).  Lou boobytraps his house to kill everyone along with him; in the book, his murderous intentions are focused on Joyce Lakeland, and the others present presumably "all lived happily ever after."  In the novel, Lou's setting fire to his house seems more an attempt to erase his own history than to destroy his various persecutors.  His machinations in the film transform him into a much more sinister figure, and make for a more rousing ending.

Some people might prefer Lou's extended narration/self-presentation in the novel, while others might have a greater appreciation of Affleck's embodiment of a human monster who hides behind a mask of propriety.  Personally, I fall more in line with the latter camp, and thus offer a final ranking of:

Book: 4, Movie: 6

How about you?  Have you read the novel?  Did you catch the film during its limited theatrical release?  I encourage you to share your reactions in the comments section of this post, and to even offer your own comparative ranking (using the same 10-points-total system). 

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