Man, these things keep getting later and later.
Hope your weekend was as good as mine, a mix of extreme productivity and quantifiable unwinding. Movie Week continues, but not for long. Tonight, a short look back at an under rated but curious example of the game-to-screen phenomenon.
I've written a fair deal about my love for Silent Hill, particularly the second installment of the game series. The first post I ever wrote was on how much I love the work of the series' composer, Akira Yamaoka. Imagine, then, my delight when I heard several years ago that there were plans to adapt the games into a film. I was, of course, skeptical about the process, as anyone who has seen video game-based movies like Super Mario Brothers, Double Dragon, Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat can attest, the results are never strong. My fears were dissuaded by the professed admiration of Christopher Gans, a French director who swore up and down that the movie was a labor of love and a dream project of his. So, expectations hovering in the middle, I went to see the big screen adaption of Silent Hill when it was released in theaters.
It was...okay.
I really wanted to love the movie. There were parts of it that absolutely nailed the tone and mood of the surreal-yet-disturbing game series. Other elements were less cohesive or just not that strong. It was, in short, an uneven affair that shone brightly at times but faltered when it came to sticking the ending. Part of the problem, obviously, comes in the translation from game to cinema - games are solitary, intensely personal experiences, whereas a major motion picture is seen in a theater full of people without your hands guiding the experience. Where I had played these games alone in the dark, tensely feeling my way through the dread and abandoned corridors, here was a movie played in a theater in which seemingly disparate elements were forced into an unconfused whole.
There are definitely parts of the film that work, in particular the first half of the movie. In it, we see a great deal of imagery and themes central to the games, without just copying them wholesale. The pervasive fog, the flickering radios, the uncanny movement of things in the mist - some of it plays out as ideally as a film version of Silent Hill could do. In particular, the music and score for these establishing scenes are fantastic, basically amounting to a pseudo-greatest hits of the game's music. Yamaoka's influence on the series is felt strongly here and it works to great effect. The script is not a stand-out element, but the cast does a solid job in handling insane material, making the impossible somewhat believable. It's only as the movie progresses that we lose sight of where we started. While the games excelled at atmosphere and ambient dread there was also a fair degree (okay a hell of a lot of) graphic violence and disturbing images. The film, unfortunately, forgets or confuses the emphasis, switching out effective scene-settings for gore and viscera. By the end of the movie we've strayed straight into a torture film, watching characters suffer seemingly out of obligation rather than plot necessity.
Silent Hill is far from a perfect movie, but it still holds its own, if just for that opening 35 or forty minutes. If I ever wanted to explain the series to someone and have them experience it without them playing it I would have them watch the begging of this movie. Just not the last leg - too brutal, even for me at times. Still, glad to have as strong an adaptation as this. We'll see what happens with the sequel, due next year. As long as they use Akira Yamaoka's music, I'm in.
Hope your weekend was as good as mine, a mix of extreme productivity and quantifiable unwinding. Movie Week continues, but not for long. Tonight, a short look back at an under rated but curious example of the game-to-screen phenomenon.
I've written a fair deal about my love for Silent Hill, particularly the second installment of the game series. The first post I ever wrote was on how much I love the work of the series' composer, Akira Yamaoka. Imagine, then, my delight when I heard several years ago that there were plans to adapt the games into a film. I was, of course, skeptical about the process, as anyone who has seen video game-based movies like Super Mario Brothers, Double Dragon, Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat can attest, the results are never strong. My fears were dissuaded by the professed admiration of Christopher Gans, a French director who swore up and down that the movie was a labor of love and a dream project of his. So, expectations hovering in the middle, I went to see the big screen adaption of Silent Hill when it was released in theaters.
It was...okay.
I really wanted to love the movie. There were parts of it that absolutely nailed the tone and mood of the surreal-yet-disturbing game series. Other elements were less cohesive or just not that strong. It was, in short, an uneven affair that shone brightly at times but faltered when it came to sticking the ending. Part of the problem, obviously, comes in the translation from game to cinema - games are solitary, intensely personal experiences, whereas a major motion picture is seen in a theater full of people without your hands guiding the experience. Where I had played these games alone in the dark, tensely feeling my way through the dread and abandoned corridors, here was a movie played in a theater in which seemingly disparate elements were forced into an unconfused whole.
