Showing posts with label book-film-show. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book-film-show. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 April 2013

Review: Nothing Lasts Forever (Die Hard #1) by Roderick Throp

Synopsis:
This bestseller was the basis for the blockbuster film "Die Hard" starring Bruce Willis. 

High atop a Los Angeles skyscraper, an office Christmas party turns into a deadly cage-match between a lone New York City cop and a gang of international terrorists. Every action fan knows it could only be the explosive big-screen blockbuster Die Hard. But before Bruce Willis blew away audiences as unstoppable hero John McClane, author Roderick Thorp knocked out thriller readers with the bestseller that started it all.

A dozen heavily armed terrorists have taken hostages, issued demands, and promised bloodshed all according to plan. But they haven't counted on a death-defying, one-man cavalry with no shoes, no backup, and no intention of going down easily. As hot-headed cops swarm outside, and cold-blooded killers wield machine guns and rocket launchers inside, the stage is set for the ultimate showdown between anti-hero and uber-villains. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fight to the death. Ho ho ho! 





I grew up watching action films with my Dad just as I grew up reading Harlequin novels with my Mum. Until I got older and broke out of the predetermined genre preferences, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone and Mel Gibson—before his descend to cray cray—were my childhood. Die Hard is one of those films I knew by heart and that has stood the test of time better than most. So, when I saw that the book that had inspired Die Hard was available on NetGalley I had to jump on it.

Nothing Lasts Forever was first published in 1979. Die Hard came out in 1988. The book focuses on Joseph Leland, a World War II veteran, retired cop, private detective, terrorism expert, and a security consultant, who just gave up flying his own place seven years earlier. Leland is divorced, widowed, and a grandfather of two. He never liked his son-in-law but has patched up his relationship with his daughter after he stopped drinking and is on his way to see her now. John McClane is a youngish married cop from New York on his way to see his estranged wife and two children for the Christmas. And he just happens to be afraid of flying. Both land in L.A., get a limo drive to a high rise and are in the middle of a phonecall when the shooting starts.

As I said, I knew the story going in. There wasn’t a slightest chance that Thorp might surprise me with a plot twist, brutality, or gore. What surprised me was how Thorp filled the pages between the action scenes. Where Bruce Willis fills the solitary scenes with muttering and talking to himself, Leland in the book recounts his personal history. He reminiscences the war as he maps out the empty floors between 32nd and 40th. He laments over his failed marriage, his slightly skewed priorities in life, and friends he’s lost in the war and since the war. And there’s no question of which war he’s talking about. These passages could have easily been mind-numbingly boring but they’re not. They give Leland the room to think and the reader the feeling of time passing. And unlike John McClane, Leland is markedly in pain. He’s weary, tired and struggling each step of the way.

For all the details that the filmmakers changed—characters, relationships, making the company a Japanese conglomerate instead of an American oil company called Klaxxon (I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in)—I was more surprised to see the things that they didn’t change. From bare feet to the safe full of money, from the people thrown out the building to the explosions aside from snapped necks and led poisonings, it’s all there.

This book really is the bare bones of the film.

The film improved on the pacing and mixed some things up, like the bazooka attack happening much earlier in the film than in the book, but it also took a few steps in the wrong direction. Die Hard is a sexist creation and I’m not just talking about the unnecessary scene with a bare-chested woman or the titty pictures plastered on a service tunnel wall. I’m talking about female terrorists. The book has several, the film has none.

The motives and over all causality in the book is much more complex than it is in the film. Aside from the brothers, what motivates the terrorists and Hans Gruber especially is pure greed where as in the book Little Tony the Red has ideological objections to Klaxxon’s dealings in Chile. As the book focuses on Leland alone, it’s natural that the film adds to the character gallery—all additions men—and deepens a characterisation or two, but I would argue that what Al Powell does in the end of the book is far more complicated than any sob story told over the radio could ever be—and possibly worth an essay of its own.

For all their similarities Die Hard and Nothing Lasts Forever are two different creations that work well in their own mediums despite their flaws.


I received a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Rameau's Review Archive: Maurice by E. M. Forster

Rameau's ramblings: I mentioned in the introduction post that I would be bringing over my old reviews one or two a week. Today, I'm going to start with a brilliant book I read fell in love with last month. A five star review is always a good example on how to render me speechless. 

Originally published on Goodreads March 17th 2013.



Synopsis:
Set in the elegant Edwardian world of Cambridge undergraduate life, this story by a master novelist introduces us to Maurice Hall when he is fourteen. We follow him through public school and Cambridge, and on into his father's firm, Hill and Hall, Stock Brokers. In a highly structured society, Maurice is a conventional young man in almost every way, "stepping into the niche that England had prepared for him": except that he is homosexual.




Maurice Maurice by E.M. Forster

You know that moment you and start a book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t. Maybe you’ve had trouble finding a copy of it or maybe all the hype around it has turned you off or maybe you’re not quite sure you’ll like the book simply because of who wrote it and when and why. And then you fall head over heels in love.

Yeah. That.

Whenever I read a classic, I prepare myself for the inevitable disappointment. In my experience, too many of the great works of literature only represent some form of change in the history of written words and the society that influenced them rather than being good books. If there is any true deeper meaning on the pages of a classic, it’s usually buried under too many decades or centuries of years passed for me to understand.

That wasn’t the case here. For every layer I discovered there were at least two I missed and there’s nothing I love better than subtle complexity, obvious to see for those who’d only look.

It wasn’t just the story describing and showing what life was like a hundred years ago for a young man, what it was like to fall in love and know it could cost him everything, it was the writing I fell in love with. The way Forster uses words to say exactly what he means to and more. How elegant it is.

Maurice was written on the cusp of The Great War and it tells a story of a world long since lost. It shows a young man growing up to take his place in society as he’s expected, and finding himself fundamentally queer in a time when homosexuality was still a crime in Britain. That law is the reason the manuscript remained unpublished for 57 years until after Forster’s death.

I wasn’t even recommended the book; it was the film I saw raved about. When I have the option, I usually prefer to read the book first and see the film second. Having now both read the book and seen the film, I have to say I prefer Forster’s words over the acting of James Wilby, Hugh Grant, and Rupert Graves. And I liked the casting despite Wilby being nothing like the Maurice I imagined until that last scene with Grant.

You’ll notice that I haven’t actually said anything about the story or the characters and that’s because it’s better if you go in blind without expectations. Skip the introductions, acknowledgements, notes on further reading, skip everything and read E. M. Forster’s own words. Read Maurice.




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