|
Article Excerpt
INTRODUCTION
Joseph Conrad has often been seen as one of the greatest literary stylists in English fiction with extraordinary skills of narrative, characterization, and irony. However, Conrad is also a creator of great stories. This is the reason that Conrad's work has had such an appeal in adaptation: the Maurice Tourneur film of Victory (1919) was the first of many adaptations of the 1915 novel; Alfred Hitchcock's Sabotage (1936, based on The Secret Agent) was ostensibly the only Conrad adaptation by a director whose oeuvre is distinctly "Conradian"; Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now (1979) and its subsequent offshoots--Hearts of Darkness (1991) and Apocalypse Now--Redux (2001)--form one of the most interesting case studies in the adaptation of Conrad. In short, Conrad has always had a presence on screen. To these we can add countless theatre, television, and comic book adaptations that prove Conrad's appeal in the widest range of popular culture. However, one area of Conrad adaptation that has been hitherto almost completely neglected in academic study is radio. British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) radio has often dabbled in Conrad adaptation, starting with a radio adaptation of Lord Jim in February 1927 and, more recently, the four-part Tales from the Islands (1997). In addition to these, the BBC has produced numerous other radio adaptations, serialized readings, and abridgements of Conrad's fiction. However, the focus of this study will be on American radio adaptations of the "old-time" period or the broadly "golden age," with specific attention being given to two case studies: the adaptations of "Typhoon" and "The Brute" produced by Escape in the late 1940s.
The British contribution to radio drama was, and continues to be, major. The BBC's first full-length play to be broadcast on radio was a production of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (May 28, 1923), and the first specific radio play is usually taken to be Richard Hughes's A Comedy of Danger (January 15, 1924). It is probably no surprise to hear that the radio dramatization of fiction started early, the first novel adapted on radio being Charles Kinglsey's Westward Ho! (April 1925), followed by Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim in 1927. To the present day, the BBC continues to produce a large body of radio drama that reflects an unparalleled commitment to the medium. Radio drama in the U. S., however, has virtually disappeared: in its "old-time" heyday, the American radio networks (among them the National Broadcasting Corporation [NBC] and the Columbia Broadcasting System [CBS]) were prolific, producing vast quantities of radio drama and serializations, but also inventing new genres for the medium--such as quiz shows and sitcoms--that would proceed to exert a massive influence on the very medium that would ultimately sound American radio's death knell: television.
The golden age of American radio is usually taken to be the period of the 1930s to the early 1950s. It was indeed a special if not unique period in the history of the medium, and many of the radio plays produced for it were truly remarkable. The plays are often technically advanced (as examples of adaptation as well as in their utilization of sound effects, etc.) and well acted (even when deliberately heightened and melodramatic). Arguably, many golden-age recordings remain far more engaging than many contemporary examples of radio or spoken word drama. In trying to ascertain the appeal of the old-time radio broadcasts, we should remember that we are listening to "pure theatre." Radio broadcasts in our own time are pre-recorded and carefully edited; old-time radio was live, and the live contributions of the actors, musicians, sound effects technicians, and sometimes studio audience, more often than not imbues the productions with a focus and energy that we could equate with live theatre.
In the golden age of American radio, there were many broadcasting stations, some local, some regional, and some with national syndication. Nearly all of these stations boasted some drama provision, ranging from family entertainment and children's plays to crime and horror shows. Programs such as Amos n' Andy and The Shadow enjoyed a popularity that is hard to imagine now, with audiences in the millions who faithfully "stay[ed] tuned" over many years. One of the greatest mainstays of radio drama was adaptation. Programs like The Lux Radio Theater--described by John Dunning as "the most important dramatic show in radio" (416)--was an adaptive forum that presented hour-long versions of Hollywood films, usually including the original screen actors. But as well as turning films into radio, fiction was an enormously popular source for adaptation. In the dramatic arts and popular culture (now as much as in the past), we often see adaptive dramatists turning to the world of established fiction as it offers texts that have proved their probity and integrity. Moreover, as Robert Giddings and Keith Selby argue, "Adapting a novelist's work for broadcasting as a classic serial was [and probably still is] accepted as an important stage towards literary canonization" (x). Another feature in relation to adaptation is the "interest" factor (or maybe what some would regard as expedience), especially in relation to the canon, where adaptation will offer the listener a quick mode of access into a classic of literature or a short cut to the gist of a work of fiction.
In the colossal body of work that encompasses golden-age radio adaptations of fiction, just about every novelist in the canon of world literature is represented, and Joseph Conrad is no exception. The principal adaptations of Conrad in American old-time radio include the following:
* Heart of Darkness, adapted by Orson Welles, on Mercury Theater of the Air, November 6, 1938
* Heart of Darkness, a completely different version by Orson Welles, on This Is My Best, March 13, 1945
* Heart of Darkness, on NBC University Theater, May 15, 1949
* Lord Jim, on NBC University Theater, October 3, 1948
* Victory, on NBC University Theater, February 16, 1950
* "Typhoon," on Escape, July 28, 1947
* "The Brute," on Escape, April 11, 1948
The Conrad adaptations by Welles and the NBC University Theater will form the focus of a subsequent study, but I will provide a few words on them before looking at the Escape adaptations in more depth.
I. THE MERCURY THEATER ON THE AIR AND THE NBC UNIVERSITY THEATER
Orson Welles and John Houseman had formed the Mercury Theater in New York City in 1935, and it had been such a critical success with its experimental and avant garde stage productions that in June 1938, CBS offered the Mercury Theater a slot on radio. The Mercury Theater on the Air launched in July 1938, and from the beginning it made a speciality of adaptation: the first four weeks were adaptations of Dracula (July 11, 1938), Treasure Island (July 18, 1938), A Tale of Two Cities (July 25, 1938) and The Thirty-Nine Steps (August 1, 1938), and this speciality continued throughout the history of the series. The radio dramatizations presented by the series remain masterpieces of radio drama, whether as ingeniously concise and loyal adaptations or as extraordinary and experimental re-workings (such as the legendary War of the Worlds, October 30, 1938). Welles and Houseman turned to Conrad just one week after the War of the Worlds with a double-bill of Conrad's Heart of Darkness and Clarence Day's Life With Father (November 6, 1938).
Welles returned to Heart of Darkness long after the days of the Mercury Theater on the Air: he adapted it for This Is My Best in March 1945. This series, also on CBS, had launched in September 1944 with the remit of adapting new and often hardly known authors. Welles took over in March 1945: Heart of Darkness was his first broadcast with the series, and with this and subsequent adaptations like The Master of Ballantrae, it was clear that Welles was implementing a change in emphasis towards the classics; in April 1945, a month after starting, Welles was fired for "compromising the show for his personal agenda by scheduling the play Don't Catch Me (which he had been trying to develop as a film prospect) against the agency's wishes" (Dunning 664-65). This is not in the least surprising, especially if we consider the way he introduces Heart of Darkness on his first broadcast with This Is My Best:
ORSON WELLES. Orson Welles again. I can't tell you how truly pleased and proud I am to join the Cresta Blanca program This Is My Best, and I'm glad too to start off with an old favorite, a show the Mercury brought you first. It's a story we came to Hollywood to make a movie of--we never did maybe someday we will--but I think it's particularly well suited to radio. Here it is, one of the best regarded and most typical of the works of Joseph Conrad. The Heart of Darkness [sic] could be described as a deliberate masterpiece, or a downright incantation. Almost we are persuaded that there is something after all, something essential waiting for all of us in the dark areas of the world, aboriginally loathsome, immeasurable and certainly nameless ...
Both versions, the Mercury Theater on the Air and This Is My Best, are impressive works, but they are also surprisingly different, such as in narrative structuring. In 1938, Welles plays the "friend" of Marlow, the framing narrator as in Conrad's original story, while in 1945 this layer of narrative is peeled away, and Welles is Marlow. In both versions Welles plays Kurtz. There is also, arguably, a different "feel" to the two versions: one suspects that with John Houseman and the Mercury Theater ensemble there is more of a team working on their own distinct and established "niche" (especially a mere week after War of the Worlds), while in This Is My Best one is aware of Welles making a debut, in-between Cresta Blanca wine sponsorship and a live audience. The works are also interesting to consider as examples of pre-war and wartime drama (and also, in terms of Welles's career, as pre- and post-Citizen Kane).
The precision, location, and impact of Heart of Darkness make it an excellent choice for radio adaptation. Indeed, it seems that Welles did not attempt any other Conrad adaptation, preferring to dramatize Heart of Darkness twice. The NBC University Theater also saw the appeal and produced a one-hour version of Heart of Darkness (May 15, 1949). The NBC University Theater specialized in the adaptation of novels and did so for educational credit in an innovative "college by radio" correspondence scheme established by the NBC Education Department, the University of Louisville, Washington State College, and other institutions (Dunning 482). It was a highly regarded series throughout its three-year run (1948-51) with excellent scripts and acting in a fascinating pedagogic package. According to Dunning, "Libraries reported that dramatizations depleted their shelves of the original works, and the University of Louisville received 250 queries a day when the show was at its peak" (482). This supports radio critic Ian Rodger's assertion (taking issue with Marshall McLuhan's argument that the rise of radio and television meant that reading would disappear) that "the radio actually stimulated listeners to go and read classic novels" (29). The NBC University Theater dramatizations remain very accomplished and faithful adaptations of classic fiction, and its three Conrad adaptations are no exception.
II. ESCAPE
In contrast to the ostensibly didactic aspirations of the NBC University Theater, Escape would seem, at first glance, to be aiming at heightened, escapist drama. The series was broadcast by CBS and ran from 1947-54, during which time it broadcast approximately 250 half-hour plays, most of which were adaptations of short stories by writers such as Nikolai Gogol, Jack London, Edgar Allan Poe, H. G. Wells, etc. In the words of John Dunning, "Escape is today widely considered radio's greatest series of high adventure" (232), and Leonard Maltin singles out several Escape offerings as classics of the genre: "Escape [...] produced some of the greatest half-hours ever broadcast, including "A Shipment of Mute Fate," "Evening Primrose," "The Diamond as Big as the Ritz," "Leinegen [sic] Versus the Ants," and the hair-raising "Three Skeleton Key" [...]" (302-3). Evidence of these broadcasts' status as instant classics can be found in their revival on Escape or even other vehicles such as Suspense (which produced versions of "A Shipment of Mute Fate" and "Three Skeleton Key").
The status Escape now enjoys is somewhat ironic when one considers the hard time the program was given by CBS. It was shifted to eighteen different timeslots over its seven-year run, sometimes with long gaps in its schedule (Dunning 232). Moreover, Escape did not enjoy sustained commercial backing, which compromised the security of its existence and budget, even if freedom from sponsorship often meant a liberation of style, structure, and content (as proved by The Mercury Theater on the Air). Despite all its disadvantages, it seems that Escape made an immediate impact on critics and audiences alike. The series strove for high adventure, but its radio plays were never examples of simplistic fantasy or melodramatic sensationalism (the stock-in-trade of so much radio drama of the period): as a contemporary reviewer in Radio Life declared in August 1947, the first year of Escape's run, "These stories all possess many times the reality that most radio writing conveys" (qtd. in Dunning 233). In its quest for "reality," Escape turned to fictional sources that provided impeccable examples and produced well-crafted and well-acted radio drama. Conrad was one of the first choices for adaptation, with "Typhoon" being adapted in 1947 and "The Brute" in the following year.
Aside from two audition broadcasts, "Typhoon" (July 28, 1947) was the fourth radio play broadcast in the Escape series. The story was adapted by Les Crutchfield (a notable radio playwright of the period who also made frequent contributions to Gunsmoke and Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar) and produced and directed by William N. Robson, with Frank Lovejoy playing the role of Jukes, and Raymond Lawrence as Captain MacWhirr. This Conrad adaptation was preceded by versions of Rudyard Kipling's "The Man Who Would Be King" (episode 1, July 7, 1947); F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Diamond As Big As The Ritz" (episode 3, July 21, 1947); and the Escape producer/director William N. Robson's own non-adaptive radio play Operation Fleur de Lys (episode 2, July 14, 1947). Although the F. Scott Fitzgerald and Rudyard Kipling adaptations went on to enjoy revivals, the fact that the Conrad adaptations were not revived should not diminish their stature as golden-age dramatizations.
III. "TYPHOON"
Typhoon and Other Stories was published in 1903, and in Conrad studies the long short story "Typhoon" enjoys a respected and distinctive position as it is, according to Jocelyn Baines, "the most unalloyedly positive of Conrad's stories" (405). Moreover, Conrad's story is something of a paradigm of storm-at-sea tales such as Richard Hughes's In Hazard (1938), and there is a case to argue that although Wolfgang Peterson's film The Perfect Storm (2000) is based on the true events of 1991, as a narrative it owes something to "Typhoon." Conrad's descriptions of the typhoon itself are vivid and make the short story an experience to read. Additionally, the story is impressive as a study of masculinity, personality, and even economics (avoiding the typhoon will cost a lot in coal) and politics (the presence of the two-hundred Chinese coolies is a crucial aspect of the story).
At the heart of Conrad's story is the Nan-Shah ship and the relationship between chief mate Jukes and Captain MacWhirr. These two men are polar opposites in their character and temperament. Jukes sets up MacWhirr as something of a fool: the story ends with the words "such a stupid man" (159), and in the radio play Jukes in his opening speech says "Stupid MacWhirr, I called him." Anecdotal episodes such as the transfer of the ship from the British to the Siamese flag are used by Jukes as proof of this. However, as Jeremy Hawthorne argues, all this demonstrates is that MacWhirr's "narrow imagination turns out to be of more use in the typhoon than Jukes's more metaphysical speculations about national identity" (13).
As in so much of Conrad, "Typhoon" displays a suspicion of...
|
