Never Let Me Go

The relationship between novels and cinema has been a long, fruitful, yet ultimately difficult one. As you might expect, given its position as the preeminent literary genre, the novel still remains the most fecund source for screenplays and there are many more adapted screenplays than original ones. But the novel is a bloated, long, baggy genre with far too much material to be contained in a film of 90 minutes plus. Therefore, plot must be shortened in films and other novelistic effects cannot be replicated by cinema. This annoys fans of original books, in many cases unnecessarily, and is the cause of much debate.

The problems and difficulties of adaption were in full evidence when I went to see Never Let Me Go, a film adapted from the much-loved and eponymous Kazuo Ishiguro novel of 2005. For I had read the book some four-or-so years ago and had very positive – if admittedly hazy – memories of it. It was an odd, tragic and affecting read; Mark Romanek's film is odd and tragic, but never quite as affecting. This may be down to a number of factors, several of which are directly linked to the adaptation of novels.

Without wishing to give too much away, the film tells the story of Kathy H. and her relationship and love triangle with two school friends, Ruth and Tommy. Set in a dystopian alternate-reality England, the film – and book, of course – explore ideas and themes that have been examined very thoroughly in sci-fi. It is a meditation on a number of issues, described last week by star Andrew Garfield as, ‘exitential’. These include: the value of life and the greater good, the existence of the soul, the submissive nature of homo sapiens and enduring love. In its own way, the film is a very insightful examination of the British national character, where stiff upper lip and a melancholic acceptance of one’s fate are two prime characteristics.

The film is beautifully shot, has a good score and is well-paced. The acting is also very fine as Garfield, Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightley are completely convincing as the put-upon trio. But, unlike the book, the revelation is revealed much earlier and therefore has less effect. Granted I already knew the entire story but I did feel more could, or should, have been made of it. That said, its release is entirely in keeping with the rest of the film. Despite the various monologues of Kathy, presumably the diresctor’s attempt to communicate the book’s first-person narration, you do not get the immersive effect and the emotional investment that Ishiguro’s Kathy gives the reader.

Definitely more rewarding for people who have not read the Booker-shortlisted original – but nonetheless interesting for those who have – this is a solid, likeable film that doesn’t scale the emotional heights it could have. Something must have been lost in translation.