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regshoeAnother new page on the website: adaptations of Kidnapped! Goodness, there are a lot of them.
A few interesting points and some unresolved questions following my research:
The film was made by American company Edison Studios and, thanks to the magic of the public domain, can be viewed on Wikimedia Commons here (there's also a Youtube recording of a recent showing with new live accompanying music, here). Without the accompanying music it really is totally silent, which was nice and relaxing.
Raymond McKee stars as David, with short curly hair cuter than it is historically plausible (I have my doubts about the costumes, too; those short waistcoats are more early 19th century, aren't they?). Both he and Robert Cain as Alan are in my opinion pretty well suited to their roles—Alan certainly gets a few good swashbuckling moments, although his appearance isn't especially accurate and there is, alas, no height difference—but the show is stolen by Joseph Burke as a spectacularly villainous Ebenezer. (Watching his evil theatrics, I think we perhaps see the extent to which silent film acting was still basically stage acting.) Now, Ebenezer is prominent because: Strange adaptational choice (1) The film spends most of its time on the early part of the book. Up until the siege of the round-house it's really pretty faithful, allowing for the usual adaptational condensing; but after their victory David and Alan steal the ship's boat and escape to the Highlands, and thus Earraid, Mull and all the happenings of their reunion are lost, and there's no question of Alan's possibly having committed the murder when David was right there with him the whole time. The rest of the Highland part of the plot is badly condensed too, which is a shame.
Strange adaptational choice (2) At no point is any direct mention made of the Jacobites. Alan is introduced as 'an outlaw, an adventurer and a gentleman', but it's never explained why he's outlawed, nor why Colin Campbell (here 'King George's governor of Appin') is so widely hated by the populace. There is one vague reference to Alan's 'king' being over the water, so evidently he is still intended to be a Jacobite, but it's not named or discussed at all. Perhaps the filmmakers thought that an American audience wouldn't understand the history? (they seemed to like it well enough in Flight of the Heron thirteen years later!) Whatever the rationale, it means a huge part of the book's historical setting and meaning is lost, along with a really important aspect of Alan and David's relationship, and the whole thing is much weaker for it.
Strange adaptational choice (3) It's winter! There is snow on the ground in all the outdoor Highland scenes. I do not know why they did this. Nothing is made of how much harder this would logically make Alan and David's journey across the Highlands, nor could it have been given how shortened the Highland part of the story is.
While I enjoyed the early part of the film, which is really a pretty decent adaptation of the early part of the book, I was increasingly disappointed by the chopping and simplifying in the Highlands, so I wasn't expecting much from the quarrel. It is included, but... Strange adaptational choice (er, there's several of them in here) Alan losing David's money at cards with Cluny is kept, but obviously without the Jacobites the political side of the quarrel is sadly wanting: instead they come across a recruiting poster with George's picture on it, which Alan tears down and starts mocking, and that just won't do to replace the complicated pent-up politics of the book. Alan has his 'I cannae!' line from the book (not nearly dramatic enough), but then they start sword-fighting anyway? Then Davie gets his line playing up his illness and asking Alan's forgiveness (the single most book-faithful piece of dialogue in the film)... after which they make up their quarrel and walk off together, Davie apparently perfectly fine??? (Balquhidder is then skipped entirely; the next scene is Mr Rankeillor's house.) I do not know what thought process went into that. I can only assume one person on the production team loved the quarrel and wanted to include it in full book-accurate detail, another hated it and wanted to get rid of it entirely, and what we got is the result of a bizarre artistic tug-of-war. (???)
So then after that the ending returns to reasonable faithfulness, with the villainous Ebenezer defeated. At the end David asks Alan to take half the income he gets from Shaws and 'settle down here with me' before it becomes clear that Alan can't stay in Scotland, which went some way with me towards redeeming the weaknesses of the film (also, this scene is preceded by a card quoting from the lyrics of 'Loch Lomond'—are we supposed to understand that Davie and Alan are the true loves who'll never meet again??). Altogether there was a lot to enjoy in this film; it's certainly a decent first attempt at adaptation, and I do recommend it; but that series of strange choices lets it down, and ultimately it throws out too much of what makes the book so distinctive and special to be a really good adaptation.
A few interesting points and some unresolved questions following my research:
- Comparing this with the page on adaptations of Flight of the Heron, there are two actors who've played both Ewen Cameron and David Balfour: Bryden Murdoch and David Rintoul.
- I've identified six plays besides the NTS one, all from the last twenty years; I've no doubt that the list is missing many older stage adaptations which haven't left much if any trace on the internet. (I spent a promising half an hour trying to track down information on a play called Kidnapped which was produced in New York in the 1890s, only to find a description making clear that it wasn't an adaptation of the book but a different thing with the same title). A possible further avenue for research.
- Some of the adaptations mentioned in Robert Louis Stevenson: Life, Literature and the Silver Screen are very mysterious and don't seem to have left any trace anywhere else. I'm slightly suspicious of Nollen's two BBC Scotland versions in 1980, which one would think would be detectable in the Radio Times archives; and then there are the two CBC versions which may just be the BBC versions of the same dates repeated. Further investigation of Nollen's sources might be in order, although there don't seem to be very comprehensive citations in the relevant bit.
And to continue my project of sampling and comparing some of these adaptations, yesterday I watched what's almost certainly the earliest of them still extant: a silent film from 1917.
The film was made by American company Edison Studios and, thanks to the magic of the public domain, can be viewed on Wikimedia Commons here (there's also a Youtube recording of a recent showing with new live accompanying music, here). Without the accompanying music it really is totally silent, which was nice and relaxing.
Raymond McKee stars as David, with short curly hair cuter than it is historically plausible (I have my doubts about the costumes, too; those short waistcoats are more early 19th century, aren't they?). Both he and Robert Cain as Alan are in my opinion pretty well suited to their roles—Alan certainly gets a few good swashbuckling moments, although his appearance isn't especially accurate and there is, alas, no height difference—but the show is stolen by Joseph Burke as a spectacularly villainous Ebenezer. (Watching his evil theatrics, I think we perhaps see the extent to which silent film acting was still basically stage acting.) Now, Ebenezer is prominent because: Strange adaptational choice (1) The film spends most of its time on the early part of the book. Up until the siege of the round-house it's really pretty faithful, allowing for the usual adaptational condensing; but after their victory David and Alan steal the ship's boat and escape to the Highlands, and thus Earraid, Mull and all the happenings of their reunion are lost, and there's no question of Alan's possibly having committed the murder when David was right there with him the whole time. The rest of the Highland part of the plot is badly condensed too, which is a shame.
Strange adaptational choice (2) At no point is any direct mention made of the Jacobites. Alan is introduced as 'an outlaw, an adventurer and a gentleman', but it's never explained why he's outlawed, nor why Colin Campbell (here 'King George's governor of Appin') is so widely hated by the populace. There is one vague reference to Alan's 'king' being over the water, so evidently he is still intended to be a Jacobite, but it's not named or discussed at all. Perhaps the filmmakers thought that an American audience wouldn't understand the history? (they seemed to like it well enough in Flight of the Heron thirteen years later!) Whatever the rationale, it means a huge part of the book's historical setting and meaning is lost, along with a really important aspect of Alan and David's relationship, and the whole thing is much weaker for it.
Strange adaptational choice (3) It's winter! There is snow on the ground in all the outdoor Highland scenes. I do not know why they did this. Nothing is made of how much harder this would logically make Alan and David's journey across the Highlands, nor could it have been given how shortened the Highland part of the story is.
While I enjoyed the early part of the film, which is really a pretty decent adaptation of the early part of the book, I was increasingly disappointed by the chopping and simplifying in the Highlands, so I wasn't expecting much from the quarrel. It is included, but... Strange adaptational choice (er, there's several of them in here) Alan losing David's money at cards with Cluny is kept, but obviously without the Jacobites the political side of the quarrel is sadly wanting: instead they come across a recruiting poster with George's picture on it, which Alan tears down and starts mocking, and that just won't do to replace the complicated pent-up politics of the book. Alan has his 'I cannae!' line from the book (not nearly dramatic enough), but then they start sword-fighting anyway? Then Davie gets his line playing up his illness and asking Alan's forgiveness (the single most book-faithful piece of dialogue in the film)... after which they make up their quarrel and walk off together, Davie apparently perfectly fine??? (Balquhidder is then skipped entirely; the next scene is Mr Rankeillor's house.) I do not know what thought process went into that. I can only assume one person on the production team loved the quarrel and wanted to include it in full book-accurate detail, another hated it and wanted to get rid of it entirely, and what we got is the result of a bizarre artistic tug-of-war. (???)
So then after that the ending returns to reasonable faithfulness, with the villainous Ebenezer defeated. At the end David asks Alan to take half the income he gets from Shaws and 'settle down here with me' before it becomes clear that Alan can't stay in Scotland, which went some way with me towards redeeming the weaknesses of the film (also, this scene is preceded by a card quoting from the lyrics of 'Loch Lomond'—are we supposed to understand that Davie and Alan are the true loves who'll never meet again??). Altogether there was a lot to enjoy in this film; it's certainly a decent first attempt at adaptation, and I do recommend it; but that series of strange choices lets it down, and ultimately it throws out too much of what makes the book so distinctive and special to be a really good adaptation.
