78 Culture The Economist January 22nd 2022
L
astnightshedreamtshewentto
Manderley again—and again. Another
star is born; 12 even angrier men. It is
easy to be snooty about remakes, and, in
the case of Steven Spielberg’s new “West
Side Story”, lots of people have been. It is
too woke for some, too retrograde for
others, while a few simply ask, why?
Remakes, as this reception shows, com
bustibly bring together commercial
instincts, memory and the culture wars.
At bottom, they also illuminate the pur
pose and pleasures of storytelling.
“Shameless revivalism”, the Timesof
London recently complained of a remake
vogue that has spread from cinema to
television. To their detractors, remakes
suggest a culture gnawing on itself, and
riskaverse producers pandering to timid
audiences. Often they bomb, because of a
flaw in the marketing logic. Viewers
curious to assess the revisions to a clas
sic can wind up outraged (if they are
drastic) or bored (if they are slight).
Still, filmmakers have been betting
on known quantities, and critics griping
about them, almost since pictures began
to move. “The Great Train Robbery” of
1903 was remade a year later. John Hus
ton’s version of “The Maltese Falcon” of
1941 was a remake; Alfred Hitchcock and
Howard Hawks had a second crack at
their own films. “Hollywood talks a great
deal about the future,” lamented the New
York Timesin 1961, yet “it seems to show
an increasing tendency to live in the
past.” One of its examples was Charlton
Heston’s turn in “BenHur”.
Venality and timidity do not explain
this compulsion entirely. For many early
remakes, the rationale was technical, as
soundandthencolourwereintroduced.
Thesedayssomeproducerstrytojazzup
oldfilmswitha coupleofstarsandsome
computergeneratedwhizzery.There
centredoof“Rebecca”,withitssmooching
and dream sequences, had all the novelty
of a bad facelift. Sometimes, though, the
spectacle is its own justification. The
choreography of the new “West Side Story”
stunningly melds beauty and violence; its
gorgeous camerawork soars and swoops
with Leonard Bernstein’s score. The exu
berant staging of “America”, the best num
ber, is worth the ticket price alone.
Alternatively, remakes can open un
explored angles in old plots. Or purport to:
in Kenneth Branagh’s glitzy reincarnation
of Hercule Poirot, soon to resurface in
“Death on the Nile”, the sleuth is miscast
as a smartarse with a heart, who subjects
his specialeffect moustache to some
illadvised action sequences. Reinterpre
tations may just involve subtracting preju
dice and adding sex. But some are subtler,
and more worthwhile.
Take the reworking of “The Wonder
Years”, a cherished comingofage drama
set in the late 1960s and early 1970s and
broadcast 20 years later. In the current
reprise on Disney+, a new adolescent
protagonist negotiates bullies, crushes,
aloof siblings and a dawning compre
hension of the adult world, as the head
lines of the same era hum in the back
ground. Except this time he is a black
child in Alabama instead of a denizen of
white suburbia, a switch that highlights
the wrinkles and omissions of nostalgia.
Children offer a clue to the deep
appeal of remakes. Anyone who has ever
read a fairytale to a child—Again!
More!—understands the pull of repeti
tion, which can defuse fears and make
even villains consoling. According to
some analyses, all stories provide a form
of this satisfaction, adhering to one of a
small number of basic shapes, such as
“the quest” or “the hero’s journey”. In this
view, every film is a kind of remake.
That is a stretch. Better to say every
story remixes known elements with
fresh ones. Remakes do that in pure
form. As well as the comfort of famil
iarity, the best supply a kind of magic
mirror. Get the tweaks right and, beneath
the action, they become a gauge of how
much the world has changed since the
original was made, and how far you have
come since you first saw it.
To some, the basic plots of remakes
are “money for old rope” and “one born
every minute”. The back story of “West
Side Story” shows why the cynicism can
be mistaken. Famously, the musical is an
update of “Romeo and Juliet” (which, like
all stage plays, is remade with every
production). But Shakespeare’s star
cross’d lovers can be traced to French and
Italian texts of the 16th century, thence to
Boccaccio’s version of the myth of Pyra
mus and Thisbe, and back from the Re
naissance to Ovid and beyond. Some
storiesareworthretelling.
Back Story Doing the time warp again
Hollywood remakes are often derided. But the best offer a form of time travel
..............................................................
For the back story of Back Story, go to
economist.com/backstory
his work with the Soulquarians collective
(who were behind “Voodoo”), the air of art
ists discovering new possibilities within
music is palpable. Such passages do what
good music books should: send you back to
the source material. As “Dilla Time”
launches the reader on a flight through Dil
la’s confusing discography—it ought to
have included a playlist—the breadth of
his imagination becomes obvious.
The strictly biographical parts are more
pedestrian. Mr Charnas steers clear of the
kind of portentous foreshadowing that
blights some biographies; but the occa
sional insight is swamped by the sense that
he has found out more about Dilla than
anyone else before him, and, perhaps un
derstandably, wants the reader to know it.
No detail is too small, no fact too tan
gential. That is especially a problem in the
part covering the period after Dilla’s death
in February 2006, at the age of 32. Mr Char
nas needed to examine the way a Dilla
industry subsequently sprang up, but the
book becomes a wearying list of events,
posthumous albums and arguments be
tween Dilla’s estate and his family. The
magic was in the music.
Nevertheless “Dilla Time” is an impor
tant piece of music writing, affording its
AfricanAmerican subject the respect that
the rock establishment has long accorded
its white heroes. Dilla’s work emerges as a
mix of intellect and instinct. He experi
enced music in a different way from his
peers, and knew how to bring life to a
sound that no one else heard. Best of all is
to read about an album such as “Donuts”—
just a collection of Dilla’s looped beats, but
made with dizzying imagination and dex
terity—and be able tounderstand why it
sounds the way it does. n