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The Cambridge Companion to Literature on Screen
This Companion offers a multi-disciplinary approach to literature on film and television. Writers are drawn from different backgrounds to consider broad topics, such as the issue of adaptation from novels and plays to the screen, canonical and popular literature, fantasy, genre and adaptations for children. There are also case studies, such as Shakespeare, Jane Austen, the nineteenth-century novel and modernism, which allow the reader to place adaptations of the work of writers within a wider context. An interview with Andrew Davies, whose work includes Pride and Prejudice (1995) and Bleak House (2005), reveals the practical choices and challenges that face the professional writer and adaptor. The Companion as a whole provides an extensive survey of an increasingly popular field of study.
290 pages, Paperback
First published May 10, 2007
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
August 19, 2025
This Companion lights up the conversation around adaptations by refusing to label them “second-class literature.” From the get-go, Cartmell and Whelehan set the tone in their introduction—adaptation isn’t failure, it’s a conversation, a transformation, a creative interplay between media. They frame film and TV not as lesser derivatives but as dynamic cultural practices reshaping literature in ways that can open fresh interpretive spaces.
Brian McFarlane jumps into “Reading Film and Literature,” urging us to stop obsessing over word-for-word fidelity. Instead, he invites us to see adaptation as interpretation—something as nuanced as translating one human voice into another, with its grammar and rhythm. Take McFarlane’s idea seriously next time you’re stuck quoting fidelity critiques—adaptation is a reinterpretation, not a rerun.
Timothy Corrigan picks up the thread in “Literature on Screen, a History: In the Gap,” exploring gaps in adaptation history where one medium couldn’t directly become another—like silent cinema’s need to fill novelistic interiority with expressionistic visuals or intertitles. Corrigan shows us how the “gap” becomes fertile ground for creativity, not error.
Judy Buchanan then jumps us to early cinema in “Gospel Narratives on Silent Film.” She examines how biblical stories got adapted without uttering a word—through visuals and performance. The interpretive choices, she shows, weren’t about faithfulness but making meaning visible. It’s a reminder that adaptation is always about form, not just content.
Douglas Lanier steps into Shakespeare’s territory in “William Shakespeare, Filmmaker.” He argues that directors don’t just port Shakespeare’s stories—they become co-authors, adding layers of vision, tone, and performance. It’s a powerful reminder that sometimes film adaptations reveal more about the adaptor than the author.
Linda V. Troost brings us into another realm with “The Nineteenth-Century Novel on Film: Jane Austen.” Her essays on how Pride and Prejudice evolves for modern audiences—especially in TV miniseries—shimmer with insight on time, performance, and expectation. Austen’s genteel irony becomes emotional resonance on screen, not a burden.
Martin Halliwell turns the spotlight on Modernism in adaptation. He shows how stream-of-consciousness, fragmented narrative, and dislocation are results of literary experiments that film must navigate differently. Think of Woolf or Joyce—adapting their interiority requires not duplication but re-creativity.
Peter Brooker then ushers us into “Postmodern Adaptation: Pastiche, Intertextuality and Re-functioning.” He gives us meta-adaptation, where texts riff on each other, mash-up styles, and invite playful recognition. It’s less about losing fidelity than about building an interwoven cultural tapestry.
“Heritage and Literature on Screen: Heimat and Heritage,” by Eckart Voigts-Virchow, shifts focus to national identity. He digs into how heritage films—like adaptations of local classics or period romances—serve cultural nostalgia, national mythmaking, and tourism. There’s a politics in every scenic turning.
In “'Don’t Let’s Ask for the Moon!': Reading and Viewing the Woman’s Film,” Imelda Whelehan directs us toward gender. She unpacks how adaptations of female-centered literary narratives (romantic dramas, melodramas, domestic stories) get reshaped on screen—less “betrayal,” more emotional foregrounding, and audience validation.
I.Q. Hunter dives into “Post-classical Fantasy Cinema: The Lord of the Rings.” His chapter shows how Tolkien’s epic world leapt into film with CGI, world-building, and production scale—not just telling the story, but imagining the world in visual totality. Adaptation becomes world creation.
Deborah Cartmell returns in “Adapting Children’s Literature” to examine how texts for young readers—Alice, Harry Potter, classics—bend into film/TV. She teases out issues of age, tone, brand, special effects, and fan expectations. It’s a reminder that adaptations in this sphere have to juggle imagination, media, and childhood.
Sarah Cardwell then broadens our scope with “Literature on the Small Screen: Television Adaptations.” She highlights how serial formats open new narrative possibilities—stretching plot, deepening characters, shifting pacing. TV adaptations aren’t downsized films; they’re their own narrative beasts.
The Companion then shifts tone, leaning into media specificity in “Beyond the ‘Literary’.” Paul Wells argues in “Classic Literature and Animation: All Adaptations Are Equal, But Some Are More Equal Than Others” that animation opens up adaptation to abstraction, stylization, metaphor—making texts talk through imagery rather than speech. It’s like translating emotion into color and motion.
Annette Davison’s “High Fidelity? Music in Screen Adaptations” zooms into something we rarely articulate—the soundtrack. She traces how music foregrounds emotion, cultural cues, genre signifiers; sometimes it amplifies, sometimes overrules the literary tone. A new axis of adaptation lies in sound.
Jan Baetens closes with “From Screen to Text: Novelization, the Hidden Continent,” reminding us that adaptation can circle back. Novelizations of films turn the screen into a page—another kind of translation, and an unacknowledged but rich form of adaptation echo.
The book ends with a pair of interviews with screenwriter Andrew Davies, co-edited by the volume’s editors.
These Q&A sessions are gold for writing. Davies talks about practical pressures—length, costume budgets, audience expectation, and the fine line between staying true and keeping engaging. It’s a refreshing note of real-world agency amid theory.
Brian McFarlane jumps into “Reading Film and Literature,” urging us to stop obsessing over word-for-word fidelity. Instead, he invites us to see adaptation as interpretation—something as nuanced as translating one human voice into another, with its grammar and rhythm. Take McFarlane’s idea seriously next time you’re stuck quoting fidelity critiques—adaptation is a reinterpretation, not a rerun.
Timothy Corrigan picks up the thread in “Literature on Screen, a History: In the Gap,” exploring gaps in adaptation history where one medium couldn’t directly become another—like silent cinema’s need to fill novelistic interiority with expressionistic visuals or intertitles. Corrigan shows us how the “gap” becomes fertile ground for creativity, not error.
Judy Buchanan then jumps us to early cinema in “Gospel Narratives on Silent Film.” She examines how biblical stories got adapted without uttering a word—through visuals and performance. The interpretive choices, she shows, weren’t about faithfulness but making meaning visible. It’s a reminder that adaptation is always about form, not just content.
Douglas Lanier steps into Shakespeare’s territory in “William Shakespeare, Filmmaker.” He argues that directors don’t just port Shakespeare’s stories—they become co-authors, adding layers of vision, tone, and performance. It’s a powerful reminder that sometimes film adaptations reveal more about the adaptor than the author.
Linda V. Troost brings us into another realm with “The Nineteenth-Century Novel on Film: Jane Austen.” Her essays on how Pride and Prejudice evolves for modern audiences—especially in TV miniseries—shimmer with insight on time, performance, and expectation. Austen’s genteel irony becomes emotional resonance on screen, not a burden.
Martin Halliwell turns the spotlight on Modernism in adaptation. He shows how stream-of-consciousness, fragmented narrative, and dislocation are results of literary experiments that film must navigate differently. Think of Woolf or Joyce—adapting their interiority requires not duplication but re-creativity.
Peter Brooker then ushers us into “Postmodern Adaptation: Pastiche, Intertextuality and Re-functioning.” He gives us meta-adaptation, where texts riff on each other, mash-up styles, and invite playful recognition. It’s less about losing fidelity than about building an interwoven cultural tapestry.
“Heritage and Literature on Screen: Heimat and Heritage,” by Eckart Voigts-Virchow, shifts focus to national identity. He digs into how heritage films—like adaptations of local classics or period romances—serve cultural nostalgia, national mythmaking, and tourism. There’s a politics in every scenic turning.
In “'Don’t Let’s Ask for the Moon!': Reading and Viewing the Woman’s Film,” Imelda Whelehan directs us toward gender. She unpacks how adaptations of female-centered literary narratives (romantic dramas, melodramas, domestic stories) get reshaped on screen—less “betrayal,” more emotional foregrounding, and audience validation.
I.Q. Hunter dives into “Post-classical Fantasy Cinema: The Lord of the Rings.” His chapter shows how Tolkien’s epic world leapt into film with CGI, world-building, and production scale—not just telling the story, but imagining the world in visual totality. Adaptation becomes world creation.
Deborah Cartmell returns in “Adapting Children’s Literature” to examine how texts for young readers—Alice, Harry Potter, classics—bend into film/TV. She teases out issues of age, tone, brand, special effects, and fan expectations. It’s a reminder that adaptations in this sphere have to juggle imagination, media, and childhood.
Sarah Cardwell then broadens our scope with “Literature on the Small Screen: Television Adaptations.” She highlights how serial formats open new narrative possibilities—stretching plot, deepening characters, shifting pacing. TV adaptations aren’t downsized films; they’re their own narrative beasts.
The Companion then shifts tone, leaning into media specificity in “Beyond the ‘Literary’.” Paul Wells argues in “Classic Literature and Animation: All Adaptations Are Equal, But Some Are More Equal Than Others” that animation opens up adaptation to abstraction, stylization, metaphor—making texts talk through imagery rather than speech. It’s like translating emotion into color and motion.
Annette Davison’s “High Fidelity? Music in Screen Adaptations” zooms into something we rarely articulate—the soundtrack. She traces how music foregrounds emotion, cultural cues, genre signifiers; sometimes it amplifies, sometimes overrules the literary tone. A new axis of adaptation lies in sound.
Jan Baetens closes with “From Screen to Text: Novelization, the Hidden Continent,” reminding us that adaptation can circle back. Novelizations of films turn the screen into a page—another kind of translation, and an unacknowledged but rich form of adaptation echo.
The book ends with a pair of interviews with screenwriter Andrew Davies, co-edited by the volume’s editors.
These Q&A sessions are gold for writing. Davies talks about practical pressures—length, costume budgets, audience expectation, and the fine line between staying true and keeping engaging. It’s a refreshing note of real-world agency amid theory.
August 12, 2015
Veliki problem sa ovakvim zbornicima jeste što kvalitet tekstova drastično varira, i kao za pakost, obično su najgori oni koji vas najviše zanimaju, dok ima odličnih tekstova o temama poput npr. "adaptacije biblijskih motiva u doba nemog filma" (47-61) tako da... eh.
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December 3, 2015Very good for being a non-fiction book. I really liked it, it was easy to read, and brigs up some fairly good points throughout the different articles.
September 14, 2016
Recommendable for literature and movie lovers. Excellent analyses, insights and great examples.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews