I Think This is the Best Book to Screen Adaptation (And It Doesn’t Even Follow the Book)

Transforming a novel into a film can be quite intricate, involving both creative hurdles as we shift a narrative from one format to another and personal stakes, given the dedicated fan bases of books. These enthusiasts eagerly anticipate adaptations but also harbor precise expectations about how their cherished tales should unfold. This delicate balance often leads to missed targets – after all, the phrase “the book was better” has its roots in reality. However, occasionally an adaptation strikes a chord and even surpasses the original work. Remarkably, one such adaptation managed to get everything right while making substantial alterations: Station Eleven.

In 2021, the miniseries Station Eleven premiered on HBO Max, based on Emily St. John Mandel’s novel of the same name from 2014. The series unfolds 20 years post a catastrophic flu pandemic that brought about civilization’s downfall. It follows a troupe of artists who journey between towns, sharing art with survivors while coming across a dangerous cult led by an enigmatic figure. The narrative primarily revolves around Kirsten Raymonde, an eight-year-old actress at the onset of the pandemic, and Jeevan Chaudhary, a paramedic aspirant whose life intersects with Kirsten as the pandemic strikes.

Though the book and series share these fundamental elements, they also introduce significant differences that not only create compelling television but enhance the original storyline even further.

The main difference between the book and the screen adaptation centers around the interwoven story of Kirsten and Jeevan. In the novel, Jeevan merely meets young Kirsten the night the story unfolds, as she’s one of the child actors in a production of King Lear. When the play’s lead, Arthur Leander, suffers a fatal heart attack on stage, Jeevan attempts to resuscitate him, but fails and instead consoles young Kirsten, who was close to Arthur. After handing her over to someone from the show, Jeevan receives news about an approaching pandemic and is told to leave town, but he chooses to stock up on supplies and stay with his brother, Frank, instead.

In the story, Jeevan eventually accompanies young Kirsten home but can’t reach her parents, which leads to her staying with him. As the situation worsens, they seek refuge in Frank’s apartment, fortifying themselves inside as they witness the world crumble around them. After eighty days, Jeevan and Kirsten depart from the city alone, with the virus having devastated humanity and civilization as we know it. This small alteration proves significant, fostering deeper emotional ties not just to the human condition but also among the characters in the narrative. As more is unveiled, it becomes clear that each character has a link to Arthur Leander, a central figure, while Miranda’s work offers another connection. The book also humanizes the enigmatic cult leader, giving him a fresh backstory and a path to redemption.

In the adaptation of “Station Eleven,” modifications to the narrative make the storyline feel more interconnected for audiences, particularly the diverse group of survivors. The series also delves deeper into the broader world depicted in Station Eleven, providing additional insights. In the novel, Jeevan’s tale is largely concluded when we first encounter him; his ties to Arthur, Miranda, and later Kirsten stem from his past as a paparazzo, aspiring journalist, and then a paramedic. However, in the series, Jeevan’s journey begins with Arthur’s death, offering viewers a glimpse into his multifaceted character. The role of Miranda, creator of the Station Eleven comic that plays a crucial part in Kirsten and The Prophet’s stories, is more fully fleshed out in the series. Instead of being just a figure from Arthur’s past whose work intersects with others, Miranda appears as an active force subtly guiding viewers through a tale that emphasizes humanity, connection, and not just survival and hope.

Reflecting on the adaptation of this captivating book, I found myself appreciating the creative alterations that showrunner Patrick Somerville introduced. As Emily St. John Mandel herself admitted in a Slate interview celebrating the novel’s tenth anniversary, these changes enriched the story by adding depth and dimension to it. One of the most impactful modifications was setting Kirsten on her journey home alongside Jeevan at the beginning of the world’s end, which I believe significantly enhanced the narrative’s emotional resonance and thematic richness.

Mandel expressed his appreciation for the plot point early in the show where Kirsten joins Jeevan at home. He finds this move clever and attributes it to the collaborative nature of television writers’ rooms. In contrast, when he writes books, he works alone in an office. If writing now, he would give more emphasis to the ambiguous phase of entering or leaving a pandemic situation.

Transforming a cherished tale isn’t simple; it involves complexity, and there’s significant responsibility to present an engaging narrative while remaining faithful to the original work. The Station Eleven series, though distinct from Mandel’s novel, might just be the finest book-to-screen adaptations in recent entertainment due to its divergence from the book. By exploring deeper personal connections and the intertwining fates of survivors, the series adds a more relatable dimension to the already empathetic themes of the novel. This results in a heartwarming and emotional story that complements rather than detracts from the reading experience. In this unusual instance, we can say not that “the book is better,” but that the adaptation actually improves the book – an achievement indeed.

Station Eleven is available to stream on Max.

2025-01-05 16:09

Read More