How to Make a Colossus Movie that Doesn’t Suck

As a former film student, I’ve got my own views on adaptating movies. I’m not really ever against them. Ever. If the source material is terrifyingly corny to begin with with, then you can only go up from there; That’s why the first Mortal Kombat and Pirates of the Carribean movies were so damn good. If the source material is amazing, then reguardless of how the film turns out, you can still bask in the smug satisfaction of saying “That was nothing compared to the original”.

So when I saw Variety reporting that Shadow of the Colossus was being adapted, I wasn’t terrified. I didn’t cry or go to the bottle when they listed some of the people responsible. I did the rational thing: I asked “how can this be done right?”.

Here’s how.

Make sure it’s a good idea to begin with.

Possibly one mistake the Silent Hill movie made, aside from the clusterfuck that was the end, was the idea to make the movie in the first place. On paper or in your head it seems fine and dandy, but there are just some things that are meant to be games and some things that are meant to be movies.

Is it a good idea? Part of what made Collosus such a good game was the sense of moral ambiguity, of not knowing what you’re doing is right. Can that be conveyed on film? If not, pick something else. Simple as that.

There should be like THREE pages of dialogue in the flick. Tops.

One of the first things they attempt to beat into your head in a screenwriting class is the axiom “Show, don’t tell”. Things are more impactful when experienced than explained, and any idiot knows that.

Colossus at it’s core isn’t about what’s said, it’s about what’s implied. Barely a word is spoken, and yet critics always say it’s one of the best told stories in videogaming. Figure out why. If you can’t figure it out, watch the first thirty minutes of WALL-e and take a shot everytime a character says anything aside from they’re own name. If you still can’t figure it out, leave the film industry and work at an Ihop for the rest of your life.

Know what you’re making.

You’re making an arthouse action flick. Don’t try to pull this kinda shit on us.

Make sure this guy cool with it:

This is the guy that made the game, and you’d better make sure he’s fine with your movie and I don’t mean in a “Hey, will you shut up and take your residual check already?” kinda way. Pretend the game is his daughter and prove to him that you’ll treat her right at prom instead of getting her blotto on peach schnapps and plowing her in the back of your Chevvy Vega.

Buy him a drink. Ask him his motivations. Ask him to see concept art. Ask him what the story means to him, some funny stories about development. Ask him about himself. Make sure you do all of your homework and don’t come off like some dickhead Hollywood type who thinks he knows what’s up. Be on the level and make sure you’re close with him from beginning to completion.

Have this guy shoot it:

I’m not even kidding about this one.

Christopher Doyle, for those not in the know, is an alcoholic genius that has the ability to make anything on film look good. He’s also responsible for some of the best looking films to come out of Asia in the last 20 years and a genius at color grading. Ever see In the Mood for Love ? The Last Life in The Universe? Well he shot those, and if they don’t ring a bell, then I’m pretty sure this will;

Apt, don’t you think? And finally…

Let this guy direct it:

Kim Ki Duk’s is a Korean Director, known mainly for brilliantly subtle arthouse films. It’s kinda hard to explain why he’s a good choice, save to say his films are about what exists in the periphery, what isn’t said. Plus it helps that his characters don’t talk a lot.

All you need to know is that he directed this awesome piece of work:

And of course if all that fails, turn it into an anime and drag Miyazaki out of retirement again.