Catch-22, Hampstead Heath and WHY, GOD WHY?
Thursday, 21 September 2006 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosiedoesToday was cool. As Kitty was over for a war film night (which was segued into with the aid of Monty Python's Camp Drill Squad), yesterday - which was... so far as the films are concerned, disappointing. Aside from playing 'Spot the Bloke From Something Else' and mocking it horribly, Saving Private Ryan wasn't up to much; Catch-22 was alarming in the changes from the book (DUNBAR!) and Kitty and I decided we'd be much better at directing and scripting it than the existing attempt. See cut for ranting.
So. We spent the whole fucking film thinking Martin Sheen was Dunbar. But no. Martin Sheen was Dobbs, who instead did all of Dunbar's bits - except, of course the woefully absent hospital scenes. This fucked us up large-style and I was very disappointed. I liked Martin Sheen for the Dunbar role. He was delightfully wild-eyed, but somehow... coherent. Like someone who thinks everyone is crazy - but unlike Tossarian (so named because he was toss) doesn't think he's exempt from this state of affairs, and is mildly intrigued by where it's all going.
I quite fancied Martin Sheen, actually. He was dorkute.
Art Garfunkel as Nately was... surreal. He was innocently dorky like Nately, but at the same time... IT WAS ART FUCKING GARFUNKEL. And it was wrong.
Where the Hell was Arfy's moustache? And The Lovably Cute Orr's crab apples? Why was he about twelve and skinny when he's supposed to be a portly, ageing pudgebucket? Where were Kid Sampson, Havermeyer, Chief Whitehalfoat and Clevinger (before he was supposed to have disappeared into the cloud) and why was there no Huple's Cat to sleep on Hungry Joe's face? And why was Hungry Joe chopped in half by McWatt's plane when we had no idea who Hungry Joe was and keeping it canon would have made more sense?! Where was petrified hermit Captain Flume? WHY, GOD WHY, WAS THERE NO DUNBAR?!
Why was the Snowden scenes' pleas to 'Help him! Help the bombadier!' delivered with all the panic of someone asking someone to pass the salt?
But, the thing that really, really got me - was WHY WAS MILO ARYAN?! Wasn't Milo supposed to be a chunky little thing with a moustache, much like Aarfy? SO WHY DID HE LOOK LIKE A POSTER BOY FOR THE SS?! Please, Mr Nichols, don't try to make references to fascism where there needn't be any because we've read the book and are NOT FUCKING STUPID.
Goddamn it. I hate when they do that! Making cuts for time is one thing, but bad casting of vividly described characters and changing unnecessary deaths is quite a-fucking-nother.
So, yes: annoyed and disappointed. I would kill to be able to re-make this. Properly.
So, in order to recouperate from the horror of bad novel-adaptions, and realising my garden is now Centre Parks for Arachnids, Kitty and I set off for a wander on Hampstead Heath, where we spent much time laying on the grass in a clearing in the woods and laughing at the half-naked men playing frisbee. And a small and confused toddler. And a man on springy stilts who kept coming past us and hovered around as if he wanted us to speak to him. We didn't.
After quite a long time lazing around, we made use of my Pigeonsense™ and found our way back to Spaniards Inn, where we ate potato, and sweet potato (!), wedges. The latter of which tasted like caramel doughnuts and were rather horrid. However, the staff and the food there is very good, and although it's a way out of town I'm thinking of having my birthday there in November. Just an evening of drinks... It's a short bus ride from Archway or Golders Green...
Generally, it was a nice day. Very good to get out in the countryside.
Ony problem now, is that I want to start reading Catch-22 again to remind myself what it should really be like! It only took me EIGHT YEARS the first time...
So. We spent the whole fucking film thinking Martin Sheen was Dunbar. But no. Martin Sheen was Dobbs, who instead did all of Dunbar's bits - except, of course the woefully absent hospital scenes. This fucked us up large-style and I was very disappointed. I liked Martin Sheen for the Dunbar role. He was delightfully wild-eyed, but somehow... coherent. Like someone who thinks everyone is crazy - but unlike Tossarian (so named because he was toss) doesn't think he's exempt from this state of affairs, and is mildly intrigued by where it's all going.
I quite fancied Martin Sheen, actually. He was dorkute.
Art Garfunkel as Nately was... surreal. He was innocently dorky like Nately, but at the same time... IT WAS ART FUCKING GARFUNKEL. And it was wrong.
Where the Hell was Arfy's moustache? And The Lovably Cute Orr's crab apples? Why was he about twelve and skinny when he's supposed to be a portly, ageing pudgebucket? Where were Kid Sampson, Havermeyer, Chief Whitehalfoat and Clevinger (before he was supposed to have disappeared into the cloud) and why was there no Huple's Cat to sleep on Hungry Joe's face? And why was Hungry Joe chopped in half by McWatt's plane when we had no idea who Hungry Joe was and keeping it canon would have made more sense?! Where was petrified hermit Captain Flume? WHY, GOD WHY, WAS THERE NO DUNBAR?!
Why was the Snowden scenes' pleas to 'Help him! Help the bombadier!' delivered with all the panic of someone asking someone to pass the salt?
But, the thing that really, really got me - was WHY WAS MILO ARYAN?! Wasn't Milo supposed to be a chunky little thing with a moustache, much like Aarfy? SO WHY DID HE LOOK LIKE A POSTER BOY FOR THE SS?! Please, Mr Nichols, don't try to make references to fascism where there needn't be any because we've read the book and are NOT FUCKING STUPID.
Goddamn it. I hate when they do that! Making cuts for time is one thing, but bad casting of vividly described characters and changing unnecessary deaths is quite a-fucking-nother.
So, yes: annoyed and disappointed. I would kill to be able to re-make this. Properly.
So, in order to recouperate from the horror of bad novel-adaptions, and realising my garden is now Centre Parks for Arachnids, Kitty and I set off for a wander on Hampstead Heath, where we spent much time laying on the grass in a clearing in the woods and laughing at the half-naked men playing frisbee. And a small and confused toddler. And a man on springy stilts who kept coming past us and hovered around as if he wanted us to speak to him. We didn't.
After quite a long time lazing around, we made use of my Pigeonsense™ and found our way back to Spaniards Inn, where we ate potato, and sweet potato (!), wedges. The latter of which tasted like caramel doughnuts and were rather horrid. However, the staff and the food there is very good, and although it's a way out of town I'm thinking of having my birthday there in November. Just an evening of drinks... It's a short bus ride from Archway or Golders Green...
Generally, it was a nice day. Very good to get out in the countryside.
Ony problem now, is that I want to start reading Catch-22 again to remind myself what it should really be like! It only took me EIGHT YEARS the first time...