The Peculiar Case of the Unofficial Remake

by Brett Parker

The more you watch movies, the more you realize that everything is almost always a form of something else. Specific themes, formulas, plots, and character types recycle themselves repeatedly throughout the always-evolving cinema and true moviegoers can easily spot these familiarities the second they arrive on screen. I remember I used to think Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs was a highly original crime caper until a film professor of mine screened Stanley Kubrick’s The Killing and highlighted strong connections, both visual and narrative, between the two. However, this doesn’t take away from the skill and impact of Tarantino’s film; one of the great pleasures of cinema is watching how different directors and performers create their own variations on cinematic formulas we’ve come to know and love.

But can that line be crossed? Can a movie borrow so heavily from another film that it diminishes credibility? Where is the line drawn between harmless homage and offensive plagiarism? Of course, I am not necessarily speaking about similar concepts. There are several movies that mirror the ideas of others yet show little resemblance in content. Look at the connections between Deep Impact and Armageddon, American Psycho and Mr. Brooks, Dante’s Peak and Volcano. It’s not uncommon, or wrong, for two films to have identical premises yet different approaches. I’m speaking specifically about films that practically lift plot structures, character traits, emotional developments, and overall ideals from a specific earlier film without citing the proper on-screen credit. The strange thing is, some moviegoers are more forgiving to some “unofficial remakes” than others. What makes an unofficial remake tolerable? Why were moviegoers so accepting of one such as Disturbia yet harsh towards The Girl Next Door?

The main key to not insulting the moviegoing audience is to bring something new to the table. If you’re recycling an earlier film, you not only have to do it well, but add something to the film’s membrane that was missing from the earlier film and makes the current update feel relevant. D.J. Caruso’s Disturbia is a film that was obviously inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Both films involved a voyeur who is confined to his home and believes his neighbor is a murderer. Both voyeurs use special lenses and photographic equipment to spy on their neighbor, hoping to catch him in the act, also while enlisting a female companion to aide in their quest for justice. Anyone with half a film intellect could detect the Rear Window lift right from the trailer, yet Disturbia found itself well-received in both the critical world and the American box office. Not only was Disturbia skillfully made with some very fine acting from youthful performers (especially from Shia LeBeouf in the lead role), but the film brought new ideals to the film that highlighted a relevance with today’s culture. Rear Window is a technical masterpiece that served as a unique meditation on the ideas and rituals of actively viewing film. Disturbia serves more as an ironical view of how easily a serial killer could conduct a life for himself in the suburbs and how average teenagers can use today’s technology to seriously play detective. It’s this present-day take that made Disturbia look everything and nothing like Rear Window at the same time.

If the only thing truly going for an unofficial remake is the borrowed inspiration itself, then it will be extremely difficult to stay afloat. Just look at the disastrous case of The Girl Next Door. The film is an obvious rip-off of Risky Business, the wonderful comic-of-age dramedy starring Tom Cruise. Both films involve a straight-laced teenager who gets involved with a female sex worker and uses this relationship to try and make some good money on the side. While this might sound like a sleazy concept on paper, Risky Business had an artistic depth and maturity that not only explored the human comedy but the serious emotions involved with the concept. It was less interested in being a teen sex comedy and cared more about exploring a teenager’s sexual awakening and ride on the wild side, one desperately needed. The Girl Next Door is pretty much a showcase of every way Risky Business could’ve gone wrong. It lacks precisely the depth and maturity the earlier film demonstrated so well. The Girl Next Door marches through just about every plot development Risky Business displayed and fumbles at every turn. Luke Greenfield is nowhere near the same filmmaker Paul Brickman was on his 1983 film, and it shows terribly: the gags are painfully unfunny, the characters come across like bizarre caricatures rather than actual people, and the film’s use of pop music is horrible as it tries to fit hit songs in scenes where they don’t belong (the film even uses Muddy Waters’ “Mannish Boy” at precisely the same moment in the plot Risky Business did). This disposable comedy could’ve been the perfect opportunity to explore the current sexual cravings of YouTube-Era teenagers or the current boom in porn culture, yet the film doesn’t have the brains or the courage to move beyond “knock-off” status.

If ever there was a film that dances delicately on the thin line between harmless and offensive remakes, it would have to be Sydney Pollack’s 1990 drama, Havana. Here’s a Hollywood film that not only has the courage to lift from an earlier film, but one of the greatest Hollywood films of all time: Casablanca. Casablanca followed cynical outsider Humphrey Bogart as he occupies a politically-divided Casablanca. He harbors strong feelings for a beautiful woman who’s married to a resistance fighter who could do great things for the conflict that grips Casablanca. Instead of proclaiming his love for the woman, Bogart arranges for her to leave Casablanca with her husband to do the right thing and fight for their cause. Now replace Humphrey Bogart with Robert Redford and Casablanca with Havana, Cuba and you basically have the same plot and same developments as Havana. The audacity, right?

The strange thing is, director Sydney Pollack and star Robert Redford put their own distinct stamp on the material and this retread becomes an entertaining showcase of these two men’s talents. Pollack brings a visual zest to the material, attacking this Hollywood product with the eye and energy of a true visual artist. Pollack goes to great lengths to capture the great beauty and tension of Havana’s landscape, allowing the viewer to get a gritty feel for every bar, gambling joint, and restaurant the characters occupy. While Casablanca was confined to studio sets, Havana takes its cameras out into the streets, creating a grander landscape. Robert Redford also takes us to grand depths as well. Redford is one of my favorite actors, mostly due to his reserved coolness and relaxed charm. As Jack Wyle, an aimless gambler, Redford’s movie star talents hit on all cylinders and the performance becomes a nice showcase of everything we’ve come to love about the actor. He does true justice to Bogart’s image, compelling us through the film with an outsider’s appeal and subtle intelligence. I love so much about this film that the only thing holding me back from calling it an exceptional film is the obvious Casablanca connections. It’s not hard to imagine the suits at Universal cooking this project up to rekindle some of that classical Hollywood magic. It’s not the most dishonorable thing, yet it may not have been approached in the wisest manner. I can’t deny the knock-off factor of the film, yet I wouldn’t discourage you one minute from placing this on your Netflix list.

Most of the time, if a film is entertaining and executed with considerable skill, that could be enough for us. Good unofficial remakes can be forgiven if they offer up their own distinct values that separate themselves from earlier films. Plus, today’s moviegoers are so knowledgeable about film that it could be potentially dangerous to try and serve them with more-of-the-same and nothing more. Legally, I’m sure Hollywood works very hard from keeping true offenders of cinematic plagiarism from reaching the silver screen (rumors are circulating now that the copyright holders of the original Rear Window short story wish to sue DreamWorks Pictures for Disturbia). Hopefully, filmmakers are learning that movies need a reason to exist other than exploiting an already used idea.