What Makes a Good Adaptation?

This past Friday night I had the privilege of attending one of the most enjoyable evenings of live theatre I can recall.

After seeing some images from the production, I had talked myself into travelling across the country to see a show that I hoped, at last, would be the Narnia production I was looking for.

I sat for two and a half hours, enchanted.

At the end, I was left with the question: what makes a good adaptation? What is needed to capture that rare book-reader’s approval, where they can say, “It was as good as the book”? (Or at least nearly as good as the book.)

I’m left with the answer: The adaptation has to bring something new to the story. It can’t just be the book’s lines and events translated flawlessly. Jurassic Park cut a good deal of Crichton’s introductory material and rehabilitated the character of John Hammond. The Fellowship of the Ring gave us the grand, sweeping vistas of New Zealand to ground the world that already existed in our imaginations.

I’ve seen four or five theatrical adaptations of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe over the years, and I’m usually disappointed. Some have been cringe-worthy. The last one I saw, though it had high production values, was forgettable. It blended elements from the book with elements from the movie into something that was…fine. But I remember very little of it. It was a fair retelling but no more.

The performance I do remember was PCPA’s 2009 production in Santa Maria, which brought to the show extraordinary costume design, getting the animals and even fauns out of their fur suits and into more stylized outfits that worked wonderfully well. I attended with Narnian friends and enjoyed myself. Yet I was still disappointed. PCPA has a history of elevating any script they are given through their performances, costumes, and set design…but I couldn’t help thinking how dull the musical numbers were. It was their source material, and the source of a problem. They could elevate a good show into a great show, but they couldn’t fix mediocre songs. Still, they had brought something to the table, the costumes, and that won them points.

Costumes and Props

The Horse and His Boy at the Logos Theatre also brings something to the table. Many somethings. Yet they still keep most lines and events straight from the book. They give us more time with King Lune. They cast an actor who really brings Corin to life with attitude and gusto. Lasaraleen explodes from the stage. The script is carefully and thoughtfully written. The costumes are a unique treat. Some of them are reused costumes that featured in the Walden Media films. (King Edmund wears an outfit in some scenes which was worn by a different character during The Voyage of the Dawn Treader film.) Others are bought, but most were designed and sewn in-house with an eye to blend with the original film costumes, and they do a lovely job of it, too. It feels like it’s taking place during the Golden Age of Narnia, as inspired by the Preraphaelites and the 14th century. Many of the props, too, are authentic prop pieces from the films, the most noticeable being the banners on display in many scenes. Yet it blends. It does not merely copy. Yes, you’ll see Edmund in his red velvet, lion-emblazoned battle tunic, a re-creation of the one in the film, but you won’t see the Pevensies wearing the same exact costumes they wore during the hunting of the White Stag in the film as though those were the only clothes they owned. (Though those costumes are on display elsewhere in the theatre, along with other film props and costumes.) The design of the animals was just enough to suggest to you what sort of creature you were looking at, with some fur elements but not full-body suits, and quite charming. Tumnus came the closest to the fur-suit trap, with fully furry legs, but this was combined with a tunic and other recycled film costume elements, and worked out fine.

The Set

The set design for the show works very well, with a rotating stage used to full effect both to take us from interior to exterior locations and to allow characters to walk or ride in place. One of my favorite scenery effects was so simple that I was struck by how effective it was: stagehands carrying trees that ran past Shasta, giving us the impression of him making headway through the forest while he was really mostly stationary. I wouldn’t have minded seeing one or two more of the beehive-like Tombs, as only one was shown amid other pieces of broken architecture, but the scene worked regardless. And while most of the show takes place outside, we do get to see Arsheesh’s hovel, the Hermit’s house, and the confusing corridors of the Tisroc’s Old Palace, among other locations.

The Mane Attractions (Yes, I Know…)

But the stars and real treat for the audience are the giant puppets, five of them, which feature in the show: Bree, Hwin, Aslan, the Cat, and Shasta’s dumb horse. Each horse is controlled by three puppeteers, two beneath and one to the side controlling the head. They’re big as Clydesdales! They snort, twitch their ears, and throw back their heads. Alas for Bree, they do not roll (though rolling is certainly discussed in the play). Their mouths do not move, but I quickly accepted this for the stylization it was, which also gave the head puppeteer the freedom to focus on neck movements and other aspects of the performance. And they certainly gave us a clear indication of how the horses were feeling. They were characters, as much as any human on the stage, able to emote, walk, rear, gallop, and even be ridden by Shasta and Aravis!

Aslan, for his part, was used carefully, and true to his character in the book. His defense of Shasta at the Tombs was done particularly well. He’s more stylized than the Horses, made of bark, which the creators explained was in tribute to his title as King of the Wood.

The Cast

The cast was solid, with no weak performances that I noticed. Cor and Corin definitely resembled each other and some good wig work enhanced the effect. Lasaraleen (we saw the understudy for the role) was played very over the top, very much as a caricature, but this is definitely a valid reading of Lewis’ work, and while Las is one of my favorite characters and I tend to read her with a little more dignity, this definitely works on stage. Her delivery of the line “I’ve had an idea!”, spoken as if she were utterly shocked that she was capable of such a thing, was a lot of fun.

The Calormenes

The Calormenes as a race are treated interestingly. A slight accent–more of an affectation really–is attempted by the Tisroc and Rabadash, but nothing that ties strongly to any particular group in our own world. The costumes for the soldiers accurately replicate the turbaned caps with spikes in the middle which Lewis mentions, which impressed me. Aravis was played by a young dark blonde woman, which is a little jarring when her handmaidens, stepmother, and Lasaraleen are wearing long, black wigs. When shown in the epilogue as an adult her hair is black.

How Did it Feel to be There?

I found myself welling up often with the wonder of the show, of seeing my favorite novel brought to life so grandly, of seeing the Horses break into a gallop toward the audience at the close of a few scenes. And some scenes that I thought I knew played out very differently onstage, yet not to their detriment. For example, in the book, when the Hermit sends Shasta on to warn King Lune, Lewis as narrator inserts his commentary about how the reward for doing a good job is often to be given bigger and harder job. In the book, It’s an enjoyable and thought-provoking aside, but it wouldn’t work well onstage. In the play the Hermit sends Shasta off forcefully, charging him to run on to save Archenland so that I really felt stirred by the urgency of the situation. Run Shasta!

What’s Different? What’s the Same?

So what’s different in the stage show? We get a prologue before the main events of the story as well as an interesting epilogue of sorts. Chervy the Stag becomes Chervy the Cheetah, but this has no effect on the story. Bricklethumb the dwarf is now a female with some amusing running jokes about eggs. We get less time with the villains in the house of the Tisroc, and we cross the desert as a mention. We get to see a little of Aravis’ father and stepmother as her story is brought to life in the retelling. We lose Bree’s comment that Aravis might just as well say she’s Hwin’s human, which I miss because it rather explains the title of the book/play. We also lose Corin’s quip about the bolt of Tash getting caught on a hook halfway, but given the staging of the show which can’t really show how Rabadash got caught, this is understandable. Is the script flawless? No. There are a few places where added dialogue is awkward, and some favorite lines and scenes have been lost. Your mileage may vary based on which lines and scenes in the book you prefer.

And what’s the same? The wonder, the joy of entering another world and spending some time there in a place with real physical and spiritual stakes, and leaving it with the knowledge that we are not alone, that there is One who sees us, even when we can’t see Him.

Watch our in-depth video review.

The Logos Theatre

[Show as slideshow]