All I’ve been hearing for some time now is how fabulous the Jungle Book film adaptation has been weeks after its release. And I am annoyed because I didn’t quite take to the earlier animation film either. From what I hear of the current one, it looks like my cribs are going to continue. Now, before you jump down my throat, let me state that I’m not a film person and even more so when a film is based on a book.
Take the grand-mommy of all those books-to-movies transitions: Gone with the Wind . My mother was ready to disown me when I turned up my nose at Clark Gable. “Too smarmy and oily,” I said. Or King Solomon’s Mines . I saw two versions and neither had much to do with the book. I suppose, a man searching for his estranged brother wasn’t good enough for the screen.
I didn’t watch any of the Lord of the Rings movies but I heard all about them. A practically non-existent romantic angle was played up and that was good enough for me to boycott them. Same for the Harry Potter series.
I had my son — who is not a book person — give me a scene-by-scene description of each movie. “So which of these was not in the books, ma?” he would ask. I haven’t yet figured out if he was making fun of me or was really serious about plumbing these differences. Why can’t they let a good tale be? Why add, subtract, multiply characters till you don’t know what the hell is going on?
And now you have The Jungle Book . My first gripe: it’s The Jungle Books — there are two of them. The Mowgli stories account for eight of the 15 tales. There’s much more to the books than a boy brought up by wolves. There’s Kotick, the white seal; Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, the inquisitive mongoose; Toomai of the Elephants; Kadlu, the Inuit and his husky, Kotuko. Oh, there’s lot’s more! And each story is followed by a lovely poem. How about a movie on any of those? On second thoughts, let’s leave them well alone.
But to come back to Mowgli, since that’s what the movies are about. What irritated me most about the earlier animated film — which I’ve seen, as against the current one that I will not — was the treatment of Kaa and Hathi. How could they caricature the two most dignified creatures in the books? Kaa is reduced to worrying about his sinus and knots in his tail, instead of being the menacing creature that both Baloo and Bagheera step carefully around. Hathi is not a major character in the recent film and was reduced to a pompous military-minded nut in the earlier film. But, in the books, he is the Master of the Jungle. Everyone, including Shere Khan, treats Hathi and his three sons with circumspection.
Finally, there’s Mowgli’s return to the man village. There’s no young girl making eyes at him. Instead, it is a story of pain; of a move made with much sorrow. The tale ends with Mowgli sobbing on Baloo’s shoulder, unable to leave; not walking off behind a wide-eyed little girl.
However, with both The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins , I saw the movies first. But after I read the books — Maria von Trapp’s autobiography and PL Travers’ eight-book series — I just couldn’t deal with a sugary-sweet Julie Andrews. Not when both the women she portrayed were so different. In her autobiography, Maria von Trapp writes of how she married the Captain more for the kids’ sakes. Later, one of the von Trapp children spoke of her being a controlling woman prone to rages. Where were the ‘Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens’? Mary Poppins was no ‘Spoonful of Sugar’ either. She is a cross nanny who keeps the kids in line through threats. Even worse, everyday things — stuff like furniture — take on slightly sinister aspects.
Looking back, I realise that the books taught me something valuable. I didn’t quite get it as a kid, but now I think it is the most important lesson: that most people — even those who care for you — will let you down. But you’ll get over it and get on with your life.
But still, give me the books any day.
