This past weekend, while the masses were spellbound by the latest installment of the Harry Potter film franchise, a far more exceptional segment of the population was undoubtedly captivated by a vastly different, more mature literature-to-film translation.
I’m talking, of course, about Moby Dick. Moby Dick: 2010, to be precise. A straight-to-DVD release that only the most discriminating of tastes could possibly appreciate, let alone begin to envision or comprehend.
Alas, if only Herman Melville were alive to see just how artistically superior 21st Century American society is relative to the dreary, war-torn world of the mid-1800s. Surely seeing the latest reading of his masterpiece would provide some consolation for Moby Dick’s 1851 publishing failing so miserably — unable to sell even its initial pressing of 3,000 copies.
Indeed, Melville’s vision of the Pequod and its crew’s quest to slake Captain Ahab’s monomaniacal obsession with an albino sperm whale earned the author a measly $556.37 in the American market.
A testament to the value of contemporary revisionism, that figure will almost certainly be eclipsed approximately thirty to sixty times over by Moby Dick: 2010, and not least due to a tour de force performance from Golden Globe- and Tony award-winning actor Barry Bostwick as Captain Ahab.
How many Golden Globes and/or Tonys have Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint won combined, you ask? ZERO.
Leave the truly poignant, penetrating adaptations to the adults. Okay, kids?