The House of Yes by Wendy Macleod is arguably my favorite play. I first read the script when I was 16 years old, and I have loved it (and carried it on me) ever since. At that time I became aware of the 1997 film adaptation directed by Mark Waters, but never watched it until this week.
Before I say anything further about the film, I should mention that this is not an easy play. I’m not going to spoil it for you, because I want you to read it, but I will say that it involves the deepest and most complex facets of family dysfunction, including murder, incest, and psychological illness. The dialogue of the play is extremely fast paced. The original staging suggestions from the playwright are conceptual rather than realistic and the characters “appear” and “disappear” suddenly, giving the impression that someone is always watching, present just out of sight.
When I first heard of the film adaptation, I felt that the intricacies in The House of Yes were simply too many to produce a film worthy of viewing (yes, that is partially why I avoided watching it). However, after talking about the intricacies of translation in Dramaturgy, I decided to dive into this translation specifically because of the weight it carried in my life.
The first issue to be addressed in this translation is Casting, what would be considered character interpretation or adaptation in a textual work. The women who function as the poles of the original story are Jackie- O and Lesly, linked by Marty, Jackie’s brother and Lesly’s fiancée. In the original work, Jackie is clinically insane and Lesly is a standoffish witness to the familial psychosis that has developed around caring for Jackie.
Parker Posey plays Jackie in the film adaptation, and I must say eloquently ferries this character from stage to screen. She is able to engage with and build on the original text, incorporating elements of the style of film acting without losing the essence of McLeod’s character. In McLeod’s play, we are truly empathetic with the character. I would venture to say a small bit of this was lost in translation, but not so much that is was unclear who was our guide on this journey (Jackie). In an unfortunate and strange casting choice, Tori Spelling plays Lesly, Marty’s fiancé (and by proxy Jackie’s mortal enemy). Spelling fails to capture the essence of McLeod’s original character, whose reaction to the tumult of the family she visits is not altogether polite or “lamb-like” (the take that Spelling takes or had been directed to take). I feel it is important to convey the acerbic streak in this character because as twisted as it is, we become more sympathetic to Jackie’s plight when it is there. For example: In the play, Lesly exacts revenge on Marty by sleeping with his brother– but in the film, Spelling seems more coerced and confused rather than a woman making a hideous choice.
In language this film remained (for the most part) painstakingly faithful to the original script. As the film began, I was delighted that Waters had made this decision, but as it continued, I began to realize something I had “known” but never really “considered.” Basically, the only text that translated seamlessly to the screen was that of Jackie-O. I am not sure why this might be, perhaps because in her insanity her connection to others is rooted in the past and she is on “another level.” For an insane person, that seems to work in the film. For all the others, there is something slightly off. McLeod’s original text contains no monologues but is filled with witty, fast paced dialogue. This would seem the perfect script to adapt to film, but it translates awkwardly. The characters in conversation with one-another in a concrete setting (such as in the film) and speaking in this fast paced, often deranged and non-linear way is a visible obstacle to the film’s success.
Similarly, in our westernized hunger for resolution of conflict, back-story and “epilogue” the film falls flat because Waters attempted to feed this hunger. Rather than the original ending of the play, there is a strange shot of Lesly, followed by his attempt to “bring the script full circle” by showing a video clip of Jackie-O at a young age. Had Waters not given in to this desire, the movie might have held more weight.
All in all, I am not wildly disappointed or irked as I thought I might be. Examining this “translation” illuminated for me the difficulty of transposing from one artistic medium to another. In the end, I find that my loyalty still lies with the original text, which is a testament to why I chose the medium of theatre.
