William Faulkner wrote his famed 1930 novel As I Lay Dying in one draft, only writing between the hours of midnight and 4 a.m. It’s one of his most celebrated novels, and can be seen (perhaps next to The Sound and the Fury or Light in August) in the bookbags and pockets of any and all moody white college males. Faulkner, for those unfamiliar with him, is known for writing in a style often called “psychological realism,” using stream-of-consciousness narratives, rapidly and unexpectedly shifting perspectives to tell tragic tales of rural Southern families slowly dissipating. They border on the purely abstract. The books are great, of course, but often difficult.
James Franco’s decision to make a film version of Faulkner’s famously unfilmable novel is simultaneously totally baffling and strangely logical. If anyone was to tackle the daunting task of constructing a visual representation of an abstract novel like As I Lay Dying, it would be someone like Franco, whose career has taken so many bonkers left turns (soap operas, Harmony Korine movies, mainstream Hollywood fantasy flicks), he seems capable of almost anything at this point. Franco’s interests are so varied, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s a fan of Faulkner, or that he’s ambitious enough to film him.
The resulting film, released in theaters just a few weeks ago, and already on DVD on November 5th, is both brilliant and maddening. What Franco has accomplished is nothing short of amazing, as he has managed to capture the southern Gothic tone and thoughtful abstract structure of Faulkner. The film version must be, by necessity, more literal than the novel (events seem to have much more of a narrative thrust in the film than in the book), but Franco uses a few experimental tricks to keep the dreamstate alive: much of As I Lay Dying is filmed in split-screen, keeping perspective continually split between two characters. Dialogue is spoken without people’s mouths moving. Often the split-screen will show the same character from two different angles.
Be sure to watch the film with the subtitles on, as Franco – again, true to the source material – has his characters speak in their unique slurred Southern patois that, like the narrative, borders on an expressionist version of language.
The story involves the Bundred family trekking endlessly across Mississippi, carrying the body of their recently deceased matriarch (Beth Grant) who has requested that she be buried in her hometown. Franco plays the most level-headed child, Darl. Tim Blake Nelson, Danny McBride, the excellent Jim Parrack, Ahna O’Reilly, Logan Marshall-Green, and Brady Permenter play the rest of the clan. As they travel, they encounter numerous soul-crushing hardships, including fires, broken bones, hidden pregnancies, and other threats to ma’s coffin and to the family’s very sanity. The Joads didn’t have it this hard.
Sample dialogue: “To ravel out into time, that be nice.”
For those of you who have ever been frustrated by a Terrence Malick film, I would encourage you to steer clear of As I Lay Dying. Pacing and cogency are clearly secondary to Franco’s aesthetic concerns, and mood reigns supreme (although As I Lay Dying has a decidedly more straightforward and fatalistic tone than Malick). Many audiences will perhaps be alienated by the seemingly random events and odd cinematic flourishes that Franco tries.
If, however, you are a fan of experimental film, or perhaps just a Faulkner fan, then I encourage you without reservation to see As I Lay Dying. I’m not sure if Franco’s bizarre filmic experiment is entirely successful; certain segments are so dreamy, they’ll test the patience of even the most stalwart. Also, Franco’s choice of “Music From the Hearts of Space”-type ambient score is almost laughable in its invocation of pretense. But that Franco came so close to the tone of the source material speaks wonders to his ambition and talent as a director. I look forward to his upcoming film version of The Sound and the Fury.
As I Lay Dying is a near-ideal example of the way a book ought to be adapted to film. The characters, situations, and story are important, of course, but what a filmmaker ought to do – especially in the case of an author like Faulkner – is capture the tone of the source. Faulkner’s original language is still going to be more rich and textured than any film version.
Witney Seibold is a featured contributor on the CraveOnline Film Channel, co-host of The B-Movies Podcast. You can read his weekly articles Trolling, Free Film School and The Series Project, and follow him on “Twitter” at @WitneySeibold, where he is slowly losing his mind.
