Ghost Story--The Film Adaptation Dilemma

Fred Astaire as a Chowder
Society member.

When I watch a film adaptation, I try to evaluate it on its own merits--as opposed to comparing the movie to its literary source. I am struggling with that, though, as I write this review of Ghost Story (1981), a simplified version of Peter Straub's engrossing 1979 bestseller. With its framing device and stories woven into a larger narrative, Ghost Story might have fared better as a miniseries. This 110-minute adaptation plays like a "greatest hits" version of the book. 

Fred Astaire, John Houseman, Melvyn Douglas, and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. portray the four elderly friends who comprise the Chowder Society, a secret club of sorts in the rural upper-New York town of Milburn. The Society's members meet regularly to tell each other creepy stories, which may or may not be true. Things haven't been the same since a fifth member died suddenly a year earlier and the surviving friends began to experience vivid nightmares.

Craig Wasson as Don.

Tragedy strikes again when one of the four, Edward Wanderley (Fairbanks, Jr.), learns that his son David (Craig Wasson) has fallen to his death from his high-rise New York apartment. His other son, Don (Wasson again), returns home for the funeral, but the two struggle to comfort one another. One snowy morning, Edward, believing he has seen his dead son, wanders into the bitter cold and is found dead. Soon after, Don confronts the Chowder Society, revealing that he shares a dark secret with them.

Director John Irvin creates an unsettling ambience in the opening scenes. The isolated town, covered in a white sheet of snow and dark clouds, seems like the perfect breeding place for evil. And one couldn't ask for a more impressive quartet of actors to embody the Chowder Society. Indeed, Ghost Story appears set up to succeed--until it doesn't. When Don tells his story to the group, the narrative goes off-course with an expanded flashback set in sunny Florida. It sucks the wind out of the movie and robs it of its most promising characters.

Later, there's yet another long flashback in which we learn what happened to the Chowder Society members when they were younger. Their horrible secret turns out to be underwhelming after the build-up (though generally faithful to the novel). The casting of the younger Chowder Society members is interesting--I never would have thought Ken Olin (thirtysomething) would turn into John Houseman as he grew older! 

A major problem is that the movie's length cannot support the novel's structure. We don't spend enough time with any of the characters to get to know them. It helps that many roles are played by well-known actors in familiar roles (e.g., Houseman is blustery, Astaire is likable). However, I never really cared what happened to these people.

Even worse, the film's ending totally deviates from the novel. I'll avoid plot spoilers, but suffice to say that the novel involved a nasty supernatural creature that did not go easily into the night. In contrast, the film version of Ghost Story features nothing more than a vengeful ghost.

I was afraid of this. I've spent most of this review comparing book and movie. That's unfair to the cinematic Ghost Story, but I still stand by my assessment is that's no more than an adequate motion picture. There's still a good Ghost Story miniseries just waiting to be made.

(You can currently stream Ghost Story for free by clicking here.)

Roadgames: A Little Bit of Rear Window, a Dash of Duel

Quid (Stacy Keach) with his harmonica.

Directed by Hitchcock admirer Richard Franklin, Roadgames (1981) follows truck driver Patrick Quid (Stacy Keach) as he traverses the desolate highways of rural Australia after witnessing what may have been the aftermath of a murder. You see, there's a serial killer on the loose and Quid suspects it's the mysterious man driving a green van.

Released when slasher films like Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980) were in vogue, Roadgames is an oddity. It sounds like a slasher film, but--as its PG rating suggests--it's more of a throwback to suspense films like The Hitch-Hiker (1953). 

Thematically, Roadgames mirrors Hitchcock's Rear Window with its exploration of voyeurism and the paranoia that comes with it. Just as James Stewart’s character in Rear Window is confined to his apartment, Keach’s Quid is largely confined to his truck, observing the world through his windshield. The film also echoes Steven Spielberg's Duel (1971) with its intense, road-bound cat-and-mouse game, where the vast, empty landscapes heighten the sense of isolation and danger.

Stacy Keach delivers a standout performance as Quid, a trucker with a penchant for poetry and a sharp wit. His character’s quirky charm and intelligence add depth to the film, making him a compelling protagonist. On the other hand, Jamie Lee Curtis has limited screen time and is mired in an underwritten role as a hitch-hiker (again...she also played one in The Fog).* Aussie actress Marion Edward fares better as a stranded wife picked by Quid--and who fears that he may be the killer.

Shades of Hitchock's Rear Window.

Director Franklin makes exceptional use of the rural Australian settings, capturing the stark beauty and eerie emptiness of the outback. This backdrop heightens the film’s tension and sense of isolation, making one wonder why Franklin chose to stage the climax in an urban setting. It's a clunky ending altogether that negates some of the goodwill that Roadgames has established along the way.

Thus, if you watch Roadgames, watch it for the ride. In that context, it delivers modest thrills and a likable quirkiness. The best example of both is a scene in which Quid believes he has the killer trapped in a bathroom stall--and isn't quite sure what to do.

Though it was not a box office success in the U.S., Roadgames attracted enough attention to get Richard Franklin a plum directing assignment. His next movie, Psycho II (1983), was a belated sequel to one of his idol's most famous films.

* Richard Franklin has stated that Actors Equity of Sydney was displeased that an American actress was cast in the role, instead of an Australian performer. Avco Embassy, who provided some of the film's financing, insisted on a "name star" that American audiences would recognize. That led to the casting of Jamie Lee Curtis, who had previously starred in Halloween and The Fog.