Please note, this article contains some (debatably) light spoilers for Looking for Alaska.
Miles ‘Pudge’ Halter (Charlie Plummer) enrolls in boarding school to try to gain a deeper perspective on life. He falls in love with Alaska Young (Kristine Froseth) and finds a group of loyal friends. But after an unexpected tragedy, Miles and his close friends attempt to make sense of what they’ve been through.
When I heard that Looking for Alaska was going to be made into a series, every muscle in my body tensed. I have a complicated relationship to John Green’s other texts, but Alaska is a book I read in my early teens and it left its mark on me in the way that books sometimes do, placing its inky words upon my heart. The prospect that the story which had wound so thoroughly through certain parts of me was going to be remade in someone else’s vision seemed a particular kind of travesty. Then I saw Josh Schwartz was the series creator. Schwartz is responsible for cultural icons of the last fifteen years that include The O.C, Gossip Girl, and of course, Chuck. I knew everything was going to be okay.
The story of taking Looking For Alaska to the screen is one of perseverance, and is a testament to the devotion and appreciation for the story held by Schwartz. After acquiring the rights to the book in 2005 and writing a screenplay that John Green loved, the project ended up in development hell. Finally, it saw the light of day thanks to a deal with Hulu, but it took the form of an 8-part series rather than a single feature film.
In many ways, it feels that the project’s delay was a certain kind of kismet. I’ve previously waxed lyrical about the phenomenon of a book-to-screen adaptation producing two quite distinct texts, but what Schwartz has achieved with Alaska is a piece of storytelling that enhances the source material. Perhaps the fact that Schwartz came to it as a man in his forties rather than in his twenties also meant he approached the series with the benefit of his appreciation for it as a younger man, tempered by the experiences of the intervening years. Regardless, the 8 hour-long episodes allow for already beautifully sketched lines by Green to be filled in with a deft touch. Green tells the story through the lens of Miles’ gaze and Miles does not see these certain things, either because he is physically not there to witness them, or because of his limitations as an observer. The show moves beyond the lens of what Miles sees yet lifts much of the text from the original book, fitted to become dialogue. That means some of the events are put in a different order or changed, but they are done with an eye to creating a cohesive narrative that builds to the crux of the story in a nuanced and complex way.
For instance, consequences to the pranks played by Miles and his friends are teased out a bit more, at times to hilarious ends and at times to very serious ends. It’s a nice addition to the plot to show how the impulsive actions that are particularly characteristic to teenagers come back to bite you – at times more severely than the initial action deserves.
Moreover, the show fleshes out characters in ways that give them a beautiful depth. In particular, the added backstory to Dr Hyde (played by Ron Cephas Jones), and his relationship with the students is more rich and tender. He serves as a figure who plausibly offers wisdom to the students who come to him for guidance, especially as he teaches world religion, but his own backstory gives a beautiful mirror to the story that unfolds for Alaska and Miles.
Similarly, The Eagle is given a few more scenes beyond the limited scope of Miles’ gaze as is the case within the book, and we come to understand him as someone who puts his job and his responsibility to the students above everything else, including his personal relationships. Timothy Simons (most well-known for his comedic work in Veep) is so perfectly cast as the Eagle that he is an exact rendering of how I imagined him. Simons brings a heartfelt earnestness to the role that makes it so much more heartbreaking; episode 7 is a particular standout when we see someone him confronted with his failure to protect the children he has sworn to keep from harm.
The show also extends its focus to show us the nuance and complexity behind Alaska. In the words of Schwartz, “The book is supposed to be about the catastrophically limited male gaze, as John calls it, and about the failure of these characters to really understand and see Alaska and what she was going through.” This presentation this doesn’t help us arrive any more clearly to an answer over *spoiler* the question of whether her death was a terrible accident or a split-second suicide, in fact further muddying it. It’s a beautiful deconstruction of the manic pixie dream girl trope, and a gentle rebuke to the fact that Miles makes Alaska into an idealised version of herself, rather than seeing her as a flawed, sad, hurting person.
The show also teases out an interesting new theme: the question of trying to find a reason and a source for blame when something terrible happens. This circles around and around and becomes ever-more difficult as the bad things become ever-worse. The very human need to pinpoint blame is made all the more profound by the absolutely sterling performance of Denny Love (who plays the Colonel, Miles’ roommate and Alaska’s friend; his backstory is also extended, to magnificent effect). The performance of Jay Lee as Takumi is also spectacular – for two relative acting newcomers, they pull of some very weighty performances, and I’m genuinely excited to follow their respective careers.
The overriding ambience of the show is that of nostalgia; for a place, a time, an idea of someone, while still discussing very important and relevant topics such as poverty, mental health, and grief. This is created not only by the story but by the decision to set it in 2005 (when it was originally set), the filter through which it is shot, and of course, the soundtrack, which is comprised of songs from the era. The soundtrack; as you would expect from anything Schwartz touches, is phenomenal. Many of the songs were written into the original script and remained there. It is a nice touch that some of the originally chosen songs were updated with covers by female artists (as indeed, the directors of the episodes were almost all female).
I could keep waxing lyrical about how perfect an adaptation this series is, but I think it’s best if you just go and watch it for yourself. Even if you’ve not read the book, it’s a really well put together piece of storytelling; it’s heartbreaking, funny, and profound.
