Felicia's Journey
William Trevor
Penguin, 1995
Sinister. True.
I bet that whenever Steven King goes limp, he daydreams he wrote Felicia's Journey.
In search of something I can find fault with....
Yes, as with Divorcing Jack, the world of Arts & Entertainments paid Felicia's Journey its highest compliment. In 1999, William Trevor's magnificently engaging novel was made into a flick. Pairing colorful silver screen veteran Bob Hoskins with rosy-cheeked newcomer Elaine Cassidy, the film version reminds me of an essay written by a brilliant student whose genius is largely absorbed overcoming his chronic ADHD. There are bits that were, sure enough, in the book everyone else studied. Stuffed in between there's a lot of bullshit made up for filler. Some entertaining. Most not.
OK, OK. So books are books and movies are movies. Very few movies work when pulled verbetim from dialogue intended for ink. Roddy Doyle's The Van is one. Mario Puzo's The Godfather. But Mario Puzo's equally thundering The Sicilian didn't translate, even by that dead guy who directed The Deer Hunter. You're damn right to be wary of films pulled directly from the page.
Still.... In the film, the titular Felicia is reduced to a supporting character. This show- from DVD cover to tagline to time on screen- focuses completely on Mr. Hilditch, Bob Hoskins' character. From Roget Rabbit through Enemy at the Gates to Mrs. Henderson Presents Hoskins is vivid and entertaining. But nabbing the whole story? Come on, Trevor dug us deeper into the mind of this Irish innocent Felicia than Hilditch ever dug a grave! Elaine Cassidy does her best, but this flick sidelines her as silent as the mute ghost she portrays so well in The Others.
Seriously: were scenes of Hoskins playing with a little plastic canteen man more important than delving into the desperation of Felicia's last few hopeful days? (I am not giving away the end. If Felicia does ultimately succumb, die- there is a point beyond mere death. Anyone can die. Everyone does. So what? I'm talking- Trevor is talking- about hope. And he boils the terminal question down, so simply, so shockingly fresh. No wonder Steven King has wankers' elbow.)
In summary: if you enjoyed the movie, read William Trevor's book. If you never got the chance to see the flick's diversion into Hilditch's Lebanese celebrity mother... um.... forget it. In either instance, get your eyes on William Trevor's words. Trust me on this one.
Critical Mick loves Felicia's Journey. Damn, it's good. Eugene McCabe meets Brian Moore meets... that wanker, Steven King.
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