When Alan Moore and David Lloyd first began working on V for Vendetta in the early ’80’s, Margaret Thatcher’s conservative government was so confident in its power, it suggested a bill to Parliament that would eradicate homosexuality–even as a concept.
No, I’m not kidding. Check it out yourself.
V for Vendetta is an angry book. No, more than that, it is an outraged book. Outraged by intollerance, ignorance, and fascism. Alan Moore found a voice for his anger in the main character, a mysterious, dangerous, and not-all-together sane figure who calls himself “V”.
Moore saw the work as the dichotomy between anarchy and fascism with neither side wearing completely white or black hats. V’s actions are questionable at least and the fascists are drawn as human beings with motivations and (sometimes) even with sympathy. It is a complicated and demanding work–and while it is far from his finest, it is certainly the one that draws the most passion from its reader and from its author.
The film adaption I saw last night illustrated many things to me. First, I enjoyed it. I thought it was one of the better-made movies I saw this year. On the other hand, I was dismayed by a crucial bit of insight: further evidence that the Wachowski Brothers just don’t get it.
The most powerful moments of the film–the ones that stirred the audience in an evident way–are almost verbatim from the book. The ones that fall flat are the moments the Brothers decided to change. Now, while I’m not like the Tolkein fanatics who screamed for Peter Jackson’s head for altering even a single word of Lord of the Rings, I do have a point to make here.
The most heartbreaking moment of the book and the film remain the same: Evey’s capture, torture, and the reading of Valerie’s letter. These fifteen minutes of the film are worth seeing alone. It’s obvious the Wachowskis and director James McTeigue used the graphic novel as the script for this crucial bit of plot. I was sitting in the theater, tears in my eyes, listening to Valerie’s final words. The emotions I felt when first reading the novel hit my heart like a jackhammer and I was a blubbering sod. The Wachowskis recognized Great Work when they saw it and they used the very same words and images from the book to breathtaking effect.
But there are other moments–just as crucial–where not only have the words been changed, but the plot as well. The ending is completely different, and while I wouldn’t have a complaint if it was a more effective ending, the fact of the matter is that the ending of this film is outright comedy. The audience laughed.
Now, one must wonder, “Why did the Wachowskis choose to change that part and not Valerie’s letter?” The answer, my friends, is that they felt they could make it better.
This is the hubris of Hollywood. Take something you like and change it to make it better.
As evidence, I present the one thing that made my skin crawl. That almost made me jump from my seat and rip off the head of anybody sitting next to me.
Here it is. Ready? No, you aren’t ready, but I’ll tell you anway.
V and Evey fall in love.
Armed with that crucial bit of information, I don’t think I need to tell you anything more. Just go armed with the knowledge that the Wachowskis feel they have “fixed” elements of the graphic novel that don’t work. Also go with the knowledge that they don’t understand the story is about anarchy and not democracy. Also go with the knowledge that Evey never learns the face behind the mask. That beautiful bit of storytelling is gone. Evey’s arc cut short by the Wachowski’s brutal misunderstanding of Moore’s work.
And go with the knowledge that this is a love story.
Now, my friends, you are well-armed to encounter the brutal piece of bastardization. But in the midst of all that misinterpretation and hubris, you will fall in love with Valerie again.
And, with any luck, the masses will pick up the graphic novel, and they will, too.