Los Hermanos Compson

Filming ordinary books is easy; it's the stuff of the film business. Filming one of the greatest English language novels of the 20th century is really hard. Really hard.

The script is a worthy and very creditable effort which makes concessions to film and audience comprehensions; something Faulkner flouted when he forced readers to deal with the opening sixty pages of this remarkable book.

The telling is true enough, it keeps to the thread of the stories; the compromises between book and film are understandable; the portrayals are strong and the director has Faulkner's echo to work with. It is a solid entry to the book and no doubt it will be the thing students use instead of reading it.

The question is whether it works in its own right and that is more problematic because if one comes to the film via the book the comparisons are interminable. If a viewer sees it as is they could quibble with its purpose and narrative, still atypical, especially in these conventional times.

The essential quality of Faulkner's prose is effaced; it has to be as the camera replaces the text, and that is a huge loss for multifarious reasons, in particular the extreme subjectivity which must be diluted through the objective lens.

Even so, the film is admirable for its talent and effort; nor does it waste the viewer's attention.

I was surprised by the low reviews of this movie by the critics. Once I got into it, I was drawn in by the various characters. This movie is worth watching.

I might change my mind at some point, but ever since seeing this film I've been asking myself what, if anything, James Franco could have improved with this difficult adaptation of a difficult book, and I haven't thought of anything yet. The real question is whether a film-maker ought to revise the source material to make it easier for the public to understand. Yes, he should, is the answer if all that matters is the commercial viability of the film. No, he shouldn't, if he's creating a work of art, and that what Franco has done here. I didn't think he had it in him. If you've read the book a few times, enough to disentangle the narrative, you'll appreciate what's been done. The book is divided into three parts. Part 1 focuses on Benjy and his experiences. Because Benjy has no grasp of time, past and present are mixed up confusingly. One lovely touch in the film is the way that random thoughts of Benjy are heard in his sister's voice, because he has no voice of his own. Part 2 is the story of his mentally disturbed brother Quentin. In the film, as in the book, it helps to know that there are two Quentins. The other one is Benjy's sister Caddy's daughter. In the book, Quentin's story is interrupted by partially informative streams of consciousness. In the film, the conclusion you reach is that here is a deeply disturbed young man, just about able to pass himself off as 'normal'. Again, the flow of time is as disordered as the man. Part 3 is, finally, a coherent narrative structure, focusing on brother Jason, the man with the worst anger management problem in the world. The film has matched all three parts as well as a film possibly could, and if you hate it, as my partner did, then you'd probably hate the book, and I could understand why. But I have to say that James Franco has created one of the best-made films I've seen recently, and I admire him greatly for doing so. It makes me optimistic about the forthcoming 'In Dubious Battle'.

I'm not a big fan of Faulkner and always found his stories to be somewhat overemotional and difficult to understand, but I was captivated by this movie interpretation. There is a lot that is not explained as the action unfolds, and the order of events barely follow a chronological sequence, which can make it difficult for those who expect a more traditional mode of story telling. It almost felt like the images were being laid over each other, like thin paint that is applied and then allowed to dry so the colors and textures can be built up.

The acting is quite phenomenal throughout, and there's a high level of energy maintained as this confusing story circumvents about, serving as nothing more than the memoir of a family and the extreme emotional dependencies they inflict upon one another. The relentless and intense interactions are performed in a nearly senseless fashion, which I believe emulates the family's feelings of futility as they plummet through to their pathetic end.

Often, there was a mysterious musical track that almost sounded like the dull drone of a plane flying overhead, a very good way to bind the action together. If the music were more intense or melodramatic the movie could come across as sappy and ridiculous. As it is, the confusion and disparity could turn off even the most ardent viewer, but I found the experience rewarding on a number of subtle levels one might find in films by the likes of Ingmar Bergman.

I watched this movie today in a blizzard mainly because it was a classic novel and because James Franco was in it. I never read it so I had no idea what I was in for. Right from the beginning I had a feeling of doom looming over this family. While I will admit it was very confusing there was an undercurrent that consistently led me to believe something terrible was about to happen. The score of the film took one even deeper into this morose feeling. When it was over I actually felt ill and had a raging headache. Now I must read this novel. I feel this alone makes this film earn a ten star rating.

I feel Mr Franco was successful in allowing you to peer into the subconscious of the characters and let your mind fill in the fine details. I suppose this is the way it was written. This film took me someplace I did not want to be but I could not turn away. I found it fascinating and am looking forward to reading the book.