Beeb reworks Wuthering Frikkin' Heights Middle England had better get ready to choke on its cocoa this weekend, because BBC Radio 3 is poised to unleash a "contemporary adaptation" of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. The word "contemporary" gives the game away, and listeners can expect an earful of expletives in playwright Jonathan Holloway's reworking of the 1847 …
I'd wait till you see it before getting all huffy about it. Anyway, it was pretty strong stuff at the time, and still is, and I think Heathcliff probably would be a sweary bastard. He's practically feral.
I don't care what they do - you can't ruin it, it's too great - as long as Cliff Richard isn't involved this time. Cliff Richard. Kerr-ist.
aren't we overdue for another pointless Pride & Prejudice production?
They only need to make a period piece once, as long as they do a good job.
They don't need to "update" it for so-called "modern audiences" either, unless they think that by not having a version in a Peckham patois we are somehow missing out, innit?
"They only need to make a period piece once, as long as they do a good job."
Really? So you'd be happy with blurry, flickery black and white versions of things, and never trying to improve on a production, or try anything new?
Second God coefficient, grant me strength that I may better facepalm.
In this contemporary re-telling of Bronte's tragic tale, it is revealed that Heathcliff is really a cyborg sent back in time to kill Mr Lockwood. He is stopped by covert CIA ninja, Catherine Earnshaw, in an epic battle that takes place on the streets of modern day New York. The world is saved by the Americans who manage to find and crack a critical encryption device of alien origin by introducing a virus into the computer system of the alien mothership.
Roll 'em.
... I 'ad ter read Shakepeare's "Coriolanus" for my English Lit. "O" Level. (Oh aye, we 'ad it tough in those days! None of yer nancy-boy gee see ess ees!)
Now, Coriolanus, by 'eck, *that* were the very *definition* of tedium. I'd sooner eat me own todger than read that overrated shite again!
[INSERT REMAINDER OF "FOUR YORKSHIREMEN SKETCH" PASTICHE HERE.]
I get so bored with these writers who spend all their time "adapting" other people's work and then expecting the same attention and plaudits as would be given to an original author.
If he wants to capture the shock of the original he should see if he can write something that is as original and shocking and as good as the original.
The single best dramatic adaptation of a novel ever broadcast was the ITV production of Brideshead Revisited. The reason that it was so good was that it took the whole damn book almost word for word and transferred it to the screen. The scriptwriters didn't drop any bits of the book that were at all important to the plot, they didn't make any noticable changes to the plot and they didn't comit that most heinous of adaptation crimes - intoducing major new plots. It's a very slim novel, but even that added up to about 8 hours of television. It never ceases to amaze me how somebody can adapt thicker novels to 90 minutes of broadcast and still manage to introduce their own little plots and extra characters. I often wonder how much of this is based on a desire to convince commissioning editors that they are great writers. People, if you want to impress a commissioning editor with your talent have you ever tried submitting a brilliant original script? If the answer to this is yes and your productions still don't get commissioned then you maybe ought to at least consider the fact that you're not as good as you think you are.
The Register 
Biting the hand that feeds IT
Copyright. All rights reserved © 1998–2025
