What is this? A screenplay that thinks it’s a novel or a novel that thinks it’s a screenplay? Somehow the distinction has been blurred here, because never before have I seen such florid prose in a screenplay.
And what is this? A movie that thinks it’s a novel or a novel that thinks it’s a movie? Somehow the distrinction has been blurred here, because never before have I seen a movie that’d work almost as well as an audiobook.
I’m being facetious. The Shawshank Redemption frequently appears at the top of Favourite Movie of All Time type lists and for a good reason: it’s a great movie. We’ll come back to what makes it a great movie in a bit, but for the time being let’s get back to the script. After all, that’s what we’re doing: looking at scripts.
The Shawshank Redemption is an adaptation of a Stephen King novel, and it shows. I’ve never read the novel, so I can’t comment on how closely writer Frank Darabont’s prose matches King’s, but I contend that I could give a copy of this script to pretty much any book lover and they’d read it through in one sitting. And enjoy it.
The whole thing works like a book with moving pictures. It’s riddled with narrative voice-over. The scene descriptions are detailed, prose-like. Apart from that it’s a straightforward linear script with one thing happening after the other. Only twice does it use flashback to build the story; once at the very beginning and once near the end. And only once does the narrative split into two branches rather than one. This script is straightforward storytelling.
So the strength of this script is in the story. Sounds like a dumb thing to say, doesn’t it? Aren’t all scripts about the story? Nope. Was Jaws about story? No, it was about primeval horror and gut reaction. Was Transformers about story? No, it was about giant robots smashing the crap out of stuff. Was Couples Retreat about story. No, it was about…actually, nobody’s quite sure.
The story is constructed around what is basically a series of challenges for the hero. We’re talking Seven Labours of Hercules here, folks. Andy, the quiet hero is unjustly imprisoned. Shall we say cast into the underworld? There he faces monster after monster. He’s not strong enough to defeat them by sheer force. In fact, he has to submit to them for a time. But he never gives in, never gives up hope. Slowly and surely by dint of greater intelligence and sheer willpower he defeats them. One by one.
There are several themes in the script that parallel Andy’s long ongoing struggle and refusal to lie down and die. The chess set that he carves from scratch using the semi-precious stones that he finds in the prison grounds, for example. The accumulation of these chess pieces represents the duration of Andy’s incarceration. But they also represent his tenacity and his attention to detail. Consider also the way he constantly fights The Sisters, a gang of rather two-dimensional prison rapists. Even if it means weeks in hospital for him, he always fights back. Andy is a living breathing example of What Doesn’t Kill You Will Make You Stronger.
In fact, the closer you look the more you realise that this script is utterly thick with metaphor. I won’t go into detail but for those of you who have seen the film, look at Jake the crow (it was a prisoner too), the polishing of rough stones (Andy teaching the doomed illiterate Tommy), the rock hammer (it’s small but it does the job eventually – yes, Andy is the rock hammer, the rock hammer is Andy), Red’s harmonica in its unopened box (box=prison, box=coffin, prison=coffin) and so on.
For me Shawshank was a pleasant read. It didn’t blow me away with groundbreaking screenwriting creativity. It didn’t go anywhere new with structure or style. It just took a classic story approach and made it as good as it could possibly be. And who’s to argue with that?
So what makes Shawshank a great movie? First of all, I’ll qualify that statement. It’s not a great movie for everyone. Some people find it too long. Some people don’t or can’t empathise with the characters. Some find the voiceover narration annoying. Let’s face it: some people would rather see Vin Diesel driving a bikini-clad blonde through muscle-car lined streets or Obi-wan Kenobi waving his glowing rod around. No, Shawshank isn’t for everyone.
But I think it’s a great movie because it triggers some bigtime emotional reactions. It’s got hope written all over it. It’s heavy on the railing against injustice. It’s got a strong dose of overdue revenge. It’s got a quiet, determined hero who everyone can project themselves onto. It underlines everything your parents told you: never give up, do the right thing, be strong in the face of hate, justice will prevail. Oh, and revenge is sweet.
If you can avoid the sensation of being cynically manipulated then you can probably sit back and enjoy the movie. Cry a bit. Cry a lot. Come out at the end feeling reborn and harbouring a desire to buy a small hotel on the coast.
But if you’re one of those people who don’t, for example, understand what all the fuss is about X Factor (why are those people screaming? why is she crying? why are you crying? it’s only singing, for godsake!) then you’ll probably get a bit bored halfway through Shawshank and shuffle off to do something more interesting, such as hoovering behind the sofa or cleaning the spokes on your bicycle.
SPOILER ALERT! I’ve avoided giving too much of the plot away, but if you read the next bit below then I might be spoiling it for you if you’ve never seen the film.
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