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Page to Screen by Martha V. Parravano E. L. Konigsburg once said that “a children’s book writer writes a novel for two reasons: she has a story she wants to tell and she has something she wants to say.” The new film version of Katherine Paterson’s Bridge to Terabithia does a creditable job of translating “the story she wants to tell” to the screen; it’s a good movie of a great book. Paterson’s novel is an enduring work of art by an individual writer. It’s not just an unforgettable story of a remarkable friendship that ends in tragedy, and then transcendence; it’s also about a boy’s struggle to face his own fears and become his best self. The movie, on the other hand, is a product of multiple visions, from the screenwriters (Jeff Stockwell and David Paterson, the novelist’s son) to the director (Gabor Csupo, of Rugrats fame) to the production companies (Walden Media, which brought us Holes, Hoot, and Charlotte’s Web, and Walt Disney Pictures, which collaborated with Walden on The Chronicles of Narnia). At times those competing visions and their resultant compromises seem to distort the “something she wants to say” part of Konigsburg’s recipe, but it’s clear that the movie tries very hard to stay true to the original. For one thing, the central tragedy of the book has been retained. To those who know and love the book, who know the redemptive power its tragedy allows, it seems inconceivable even to consider eliminating it. But to those unfamiliar with children’s literature, who think Harry Potter is about as deep and real as children’s books get, the central tragedy of Bridge to Terabithia apparently comes as too much of a shock. Screenwriter David Paterson, who has been trying to get Bridge made for almost twenty years, apparently had to fight tooth and nail to keep from downsizing Leslie’s death to a coma or — wait for it — a broken leg. The film is unequivocally faithful in its portrayal of Jess and Leslie’s friendship. Actors Josh Hutcherson and AnnaSophia Robb have terrific onscreen chemistry: they light up in each other’s company. Robb is perfect as Leslie, elfin and vibrant and luminous, if not quite the tomboy my own ten-year-old envisioned. The filmmakers make adept use of the medium to convey the essence of Jess and Leslie’s friendship. In one early scene, Jess and Leslie get off the school bus, symbol of the bullying and general unfairness that is Jess’s life. Leslie challenges Jess to a race, and the two take off running. The camera pulls back to reveal the open space all around them — a whole world for them to run through, to conquer. It’s a great visual metaphor for the freedom and expanse they find in their friendship. (And while I’m on the subject of effective moviemaking: when we first see the rope hanging down over the stream — the rope used to swing into Terabithia — the camera lingers on it just for a moment, but it seems to call to us. It hangs there like a demarcation between two worlds — which it is, of course.) The acting is top-notch. The casting of Bailee Madison as May Belle was an absolutely brilliant move: she steals every scene she appears in. Zooey Deschanel is charismatic as Jess’s ultra-cool music teacher, doing her best to draw Jess out of his shell. And Robert Patrick reprises his role as a hard-ass dad (he played Johnny Cash’s father in Walk the Line) glare for glare. On the whole, the computer-generated special effects are nicely understated. At one point a tree morphs before our eyes into a huge troll, chases the children through the woods, and then fades into the background, once again just a big dark tree against a bright sky — a sequence that manages to capture, visually, the way a child’s imagination works. Nonetheless, I do have some reservations. I’m not a stickler for literal re-creations — some of the best book-based films take liberties with the original (Brad Bird’s The Iron Giant, for example). But do the following changes to Bridge expand the book, or reduce it? One example of a small but silly change: the filmmakers graft on a gratuitous scene in which Leslie stages a “free the pee” protest on the playground (bully Janice Avery has been charging little kids to use the bathroom). This is presumably meant to provide a little comic relief — though the scene raised nary a giggle from the kids in my local multiplex. But here’s the thing: not every movie based on a children’s book requires a dose of bathroom humor. It’s insulting both to the material and to the audience. Charlotte’s Web didn’t need fart jokes; Bridge to Terabithia doesn’t need “free the pee.” A larger issue is the menacing nature of Terabithia in the film, and what Jess learns there. In the book, Terabithia is a place where Jess and Leslie can shake off the constrictions of their lives and, through books, art, and their own creativity, begin to imagine themselves in a larger world. The film does sometimes convey the sense of the book’s Terabithia, as we see the two friends joyfully fixing up the tree house and artist Jess reveling in the freedom to paint. But menace is the overriding characteristic of the film’s Terabithia. Dark, ominous music begins to play the moment Jess first sets foot on the land across the creek; monsters attack; Jess at one point suddenly finds a bludgeoning armor-like weapon attach itself to his arm, the better to deliver death blows to the monster-vultures. (Now does that sound like Katherine Paterson to you?) With such a setup, the violence is primed to spill over into the real world, with a pushed-too-far Jess finally hauling off and punching his main tormentor at school — an action we clearly, though disturbingly, are supposed to cheer. It’s disappointing that the filmmakers follow the generic paradigm of the Narnia/Lord of the Rings construct, because Bridge to Terabithia is a human story, not a good vs. evil fantasy epic. (Though Disney’s misleading ads, especially the commercially exploitative trailer, do their best to make it look like one.) Fortunately, the complex human story wins out. After a wrenching scene with his father (lots of sniffles heard in the audience at this point), Jess finally lets himself begin to heal, and he builds that bridge to Terabithia. True, the magical land to which he introduces new princess May Belle is pretty cheesy-looking — “a Wal-Mart Middle Earth,” as the Boston Globe reviewer called it — but the movie’s heart is once again in the right place. And the final shot is perfectly judged, with the camera zooming in on Jess’s face, seeming to send us inside his head. A good place to be.
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