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The Wizard of Oz: Movie Storybook

The legacy of L. Frank Baum’s 1900 scantly-read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is surrounded by myth. The book was alleged to be an elaborate allegory to Gilded Age politics treating such topics as the relationship between the financial East and the Populist Old Northwest, the Silver Standard, and the dehumanizing (read: munchkinizing) effects of steam age industry such as the railroad. The 1939 film by Victor Fleming took many liberties with the premise, completely eliminated the political content, and changed Dorothy’s figurative Silver Standard Slippers into Ruby in order to show off the vivifying effects of atomic age industry such as technicolor.

Although stripping Baum’s work of its motivating principle, the motion picture nonetheless elevated The Wizard of Oz to the status of American classic. Children and adults alike know the lyrics to the many songs and witty lines from throughout the screenplay. I personally have an alter ego who speaks like a witch and frequently refers to people and things as “my pretties.” The motion picture, too, has myths of its own: it is rumored that a munchkin-actor killed himself during production and his body can be seen swinging from a tree in the background of a scene in the Enchanted Forest. And, of course, we have all tried synchorinzing Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon, starting the album just as the MGM lion roars his third roar, and found that it works. Sorta.

The Wizard of Oz: Movie Storybook (1998) written collectively by “Scholastic, INC” benefits wildly from the film’s fifty-nine years as an established piece of American culture. It was obvious in 1998 which screen shots from the film are representative of memorable parts of the movie, and which lines had worked their way into public consciousness. This book has them all: ”I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” “Are you a good witch or a bad witch,” “Be gone, before somebody drops a house on you too,” “I’ll get you my pretty and your little dog too,” “How would you like it if somebody picked a fruit off of you,” “Now that’s a horse of a different color,” “Oh what a world what a world,” and “There’s no place like home,” are all there, along with the title lines of every song worked delightfully into the narrative.

I can confidently state that this storybook is a direct facsimile of the movie into a different medium, and that this is an example of book -> movie/book. And although Baum’s message may have been muddled with time, Dorothy and her fascinating friends remind us that we cannot press down upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns; we cannot crucify mankind upon the yellow brick road.

— William Jennings Bryan

The Wild Things by Dave Eggers

In The Wild Things, Dave Eggers clearly shows his understanding of the Book->Movie->Book genre and expertly turns it on its head.

In the B->M->B canon, each adaptation manages to brilliantly gut the nuances of character and plot, reducing the story to a bare bones, empty shell of its original self. The Wild Things defies this standard precept of B->M->B, instead turning a poignant, touching children’s book into a weighty 287-pager.

But here is the genius: Eggers manages to subvert the genre while simultaneously cheapening the meaning of the original story! It’s beautiful.

Eggers’s protagonist, Max, reveals bits of wisdom throughout the story. Upon hitting his sister’s head in the face with a snowball:

“He looked out his peephole, and could see Claire helping Meika, who was crying, her face red and raw. Why would anyone cry about getting hit in the face with a ball of ice and snow falling from the sky after almost hitting the sun?”

That is the worst question anyone has ever asked, fictional or non.

Max’s friend’s mom is also shamelessly two-dimensional, like the best of the B->M->B characters. The neurotic woman chases a bicycle-riding Max, who turns into the woods. “Molesters! Drugs! Homeless! Needles!” she screams in a scene that could have come out of Dennis the Menace.

But at least the Dennis the Menace DVD includes a “fun activity book.”

— Doug Campbell

The Cat in the Hat: The Movie by Jesse Leon McCann

The Cat in the Hat: The Movie lacks much of the creative flair that makes Dr. Seuss’s book so enjoyable. The book starts with preparation for a “BIG party” thrown by the Waldens. Mrs. Kwan, notably absent from The Cat in the Hat, is babysitting the two little Waldens. The mischievous Sally and Conrad go to explore a sound upstairs, and run into the Cat in the Hat, who is a lone reminder of Seuss trapped in this world of mediocre illustration and narrative. He is drawn entirely Seussian, which only serves to make the TCITH:TM’s illustration look more disappointing.

When the Cat and the two kids make cupcakes, it is kind of ok. The oven explodes with “purple goop” which is always good for laughs. The house is trashed, and the two brats fault the Cat. “Get out!” they shout. For some reason the Cat returns with a cleaning machine, and repairs the damage. “Thanks for everything!” the kids shout as the Cat drives away. I omitted an anecdote where they all go to a neighborhood birthday party, because it should have been cut from the book.

— Sam-I-Am

Great Expectations by Deborah Chiel

His father’s family name being Bell, and his Christian name James, his infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Jimmy. So, he called himself Jimmy, and came to be called Jimmy Bell. The novel opens at the scene of a party, in New York City, and Jimmy Bell is the man of the hour, the experience so surreal to him that “Jimmy felt as if he were in a movie, starring in the role of a tough guy who didn’t give a shit, usually played by Bruce Willis or Clint Eastwood,” or in this case, Ethan Hawke. But how did Jimmy get from being the nephew of a modest Florida fisherman to the center of Manhattan stardom? Why, it’s a story as old as the film industry itself, and one that will defy your greatest expectations.

From his earliest childhood memory, Jimmy was taunted by the temptation for things he couldn’t have. While a directionless twentysomething, he was taken into the employ of the mysterious Miss Havisham (Janeane Garofalo) and enticed to lust after her beautiful charge Estella (Winona Ryder). Despite living with him and sharing many kooky misadventures, Estella repeatedly cast her favor with a more ambitious, if not more talented, artist Michael Grates (Ben Stiller). Then one day Jimmy was whisked away from it all by a visit from an accountant representing an unknown benefactor convinced that Jimmy should have great expectations for himself.

In order to finally attract the elusive Estella, Jimmy Bell must do battle with the evil Magwitch who wishes to destroy his great Expectations. Master of convoluted language, subtle symbolism, and fanciful character names, novelist Deborah Chiel’s narrative weaves ambition and human warmth through a tale unprecedented in English literature. This book is truly a worthwhile piece of portable property that tells us unequivocally: Charles Dickens.

— Philip Pirrip

Jumanji by Todd Strasser

The following is a brief video review of Jumanji, a novelization by Todd Strasser, based on a screenplay by Jonathan Hensleigh, Greg Taylor & Jim Strain, based on a screen story by Greg Taylor, Jim Strain & Chris Van Allsburg, based on the book by Chris Van Allsburg.

Jumanji is the story of a magic board game (sold separately and not reviewed here) which draws on real-life animals and other jungle elements to scare the game’s players. We felt it appropriate to seek out reviewers familiar with the book’s core themes, and settled upon Tarzan—a jungle expert—and his friend dog, a real-life animal. In other words, we wrangled the cream of the reviewing crop, and you can thank us later.

Tarzan and a Dog Review Jumanji

— Daniel Goodman

Jurassic Park: The Junior Novelization by Gail Herman

It didn’t take long for me to notice that Michael Crichton’s name was nowhere on the cover of this Grosset & Dunlap First Edition of Jurassic Park. And every other page was festooned with a “JP” insignia, the kind you might find on the box of a Dennis Nedry action figure. And I wondered: Just what kind of Park is this?

Much like Mr. John Hammond’s park, Jurassic Park: The Junior Novelization deteriorates as time wears on. By page 36, we’ve completely lost power. Around page 63, it becomes clear that we won’t be able to get the Park back online. And by page 77, the raptors are in the kitchen, knocking over the pots and pans.

In the final pages of the book, Dr. Alan Grant announces to Mr. Hammond: “I’ve given this careful consideration, and I’ve decided not to endorse Jurassic Park.” After careful consideration, so have I.

— R. Muldoon