Oh, the pain of disillusionment!
So this is just about my favorite movie of all time. Ever. I'm not going to claim that it's anything groundbreaking or world-changing like Star Wars or Breakfast at Tiffany's, but it's one of those movies that feels self-created and effortless; it wasn't written and cast and soundtracked and produced and acted out and recorded, it just grew out of the ground. (When something man-made seems natural, that is a very strong indicator that it was meticulously planned and worked and reworked within an inch of its life. Why is it so hard for us poor mortals to do what real life does without trying?) So when I saw the book in the library system I was enthralled. My favorite movie ever was a book first! What have I ever done to deserve such rapture?
Ahem. Anyway, she says as she furtively wipes her eyes, I requested it, and it came. The cover had the actors and actresses on it, which is less than ideal—I hate movie tie-in covers—but not a big deal. Then, as I read a ways into it, examined the cover more closely, checked the publishing date against the movie's release date, I realize the truth with dawning horror.
It's not the inspiration for my darling 'Penelope' with a movie tie-in cover.
It's director-endorsed post- movie release fanfic by the queen of parenthetical asides.
I've experienced this crushing disappointment many times in reverse, where the movie is a gross caricature of a beloved book. I've grown desensitized, even come to expect the worst of a movie adaptation and be pleasantly surprised when it's not as horrible as I expected. I just didn't have enough warning to put on my bulletproof vest for this go around.
All right, for a book adaptation of a movie, it wasn't bad. Ms. Kaye altered the setting to make it more distinctly modern—references to Captain Jack Sparrow, visits to schmancy nightclubs, that sort of thing—which I suppose some people might like; personally I preferred the fairytale-like device the movie used to blur the concept of time or place, and I would generally advise authors to avoid dating their books. She changed a lot of the scenes, gave Penelope a bit of a seventeen-year-old, flippant voice, and made Annie a lot less cool than the Reese Witherspoon version. She also made Max/Johnny a lot more skater-hottie—in the movie, he really wasn't cute, actually rather homely, but somehow came off as very attractive, especially when his eyes were a little less red. (Once again, I'm inclined to prefer the movie version). Edward, I have to admit, she captured to a tee.
It lacked the timeless beauty and charm of the movie, but overall, it was a cute, shallow, lighthearted middle-grade reworking. My advice: if you saw the movie and loved it, don't bother with the book. You're not missing much.
(But if you haven't seen the movie, for heaven's sake go watch it!)