The Perils of Adaptation

There is a new movie version of Evelyn Waugh's classic novel Brideshead Revisited. I am a huge fan of both the book and the 1982 miniseries adaptation. I was dubious about this new Miramax version, first because a two-hour movie seemed inadequate to capture the complexity of the novel as it traverses over the lives of the characters for quite a lengthy period of time. And second because the screenwriter for the new film stated in an interview that he was ditching the religious aspect of the story, which is central to the book regardless of how one falls on theological questions. Take the Waugh out of Waugh and you have, well, according to Slate magazine's review, you have a complete failure.

But do not, when attempting any course of reading aimed at appreciating Waugh's wit, give undue attention to Brideshead Revisited, a misfit of a book, much loved, and often loved in the wrong way, as the vomitous stupidity of Miramax's new film adaptation attests.

My spell check wants to change "vomitous" to "calamitous" in the above paragraph, but I think the reviewer probably chose the correct adjective.