Written by contributor Sophia Mattice
My initial reaction to the Netflix series adaptation of Richard Adam’s Watership Down: Cool…huh, that’s interesting…maybe…sure, that sounds good! Maybe…um…NO. Meh.
I know that sounds like I’m scrolling Tinder as opposed to a legitimate critique. It’s probably also indicative of what happens when a bookworm with an ardent love of the source material tries to write a review of said adaptation. You run the risk of sounding like a patronising scold who thinks any movie taking on a beloved book should follow its character and story structure exactly.
For the record, I don’t think that. Yes, Watership Down, the story of rabbits who give up their home due to incoming human-imposed destruction to establish a new warren, is one of my favourites. Who thought the culture, language and mythology of anthropomorphised bunnies could be such a damn good yarn?
Just because the book benevolently rules a soft sport in my heart though doesn’t mean I have any interest in seeing it adapted to any screen verbatim. Though criticised for being too violent, I like the 1978 feature film adaptation of Watership Down that tuned into the more brutal aspects of nature and had a talented cast including John Hurt and Richard Briers, among others. I haven’t seen the animated series from 1999 to 2001 that was broadcast in the UK and Canada, so I can’t offer up on opinion how well it encapsulates the spirit of Adam’s book.
When I discovered that the BBC and Netflix came together to bring us the latest version with four one-hour episodes, my ears perked right up (had to fit a lapin pun in there somewhere). A miniseries could be the perfect way to bring the story of Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig and their struggles against nature and the fearsome rabbit General Woundwort to a new generation.
Unfortunately, the final result is kind of like a hurried gumbo: not as much flavor and sustenance as one would hope for. Occasionally, you may get a mouthful that hints at what might have been, but not a recipe you’ll look to reproduce in the future.
The voice cast is as close to perfection as an animated project can get, with James McAvoy as Hazel, Nicholas Hoult as Fiver, Ben Kingsley as Woundwort. and John Boyega as Bigwig. Not to mention Peter Capaldi, Daniel Kaluuya, Olivia Colman, Rosamund Pike—the list goes on. They all do a commendable job of instilling their characters with a distinctive personality.
Too bad that’s where the solid praise stops. The majority of the show’s 20 million pound budget must have been spent on the renowned cast, because the computer animation has all the world building charm of cold toast. I don’t care how detailed the fur or water ripples are in some shots; as soon as there’s action it looks like a matte digital rendering. Yes, the 1978 movie looks like it was made in that period, but there are at least several images that will stay with you long after the credits roll. After watching the Netflix series twice I am still hard-pressed to think of any particular scene that stood out to me as visually captivating.
The script by Tom Bidwell is also mixed bag with some emotional moments truly landing in a way that bolsters the sense of camaraderie our furred protagonists have for one another.
However, there’s a new character choice here that as a fan of the book, I couldn’t help but immediately feel robs the miniseries of potentially one of the most powerful scenes it could have had. If spoilers matter to you, now is the time to stop reading and go check out a different Nerd Daily offering, because we’re wading into that territory with these final remarks. Consider yourself advised.
In the book, Hazel is the unofficial leader of the small band of rabbits that set out in search of a safer, bountiful place to live. He is not a member of the “Owsla” the elite group of rabbits within a warren that are its soldiers and officers. He is intelligent and brave, but also thoughtful and compassionate, attempting to look at the bigger picture of what’s best for all involved.
Because of this he is seen as something of a softy by Bigwig, a former member of the Owsla, and a curt, strong rabbit who’s not afraid of a fight. He derisively jokes about Hazel ever being the group’s chief, not fully trusting him, or Hazel’s younger brother, Fiver, whose ominous premonitions caused the rabbits to flee from their original home in the first place.
Near the end of the novel, when General Woundwort and his lackeys attack Watership Down, causing the rabbits to retreat into their tunnels to stave off the invaders, him and Bigwig engage in a brutal fight that leaves both animals exhausted. Neither one will back down, with Woundwort trying to save face in front of his warriors, whose morale is beginning to fray, and Bigwig buying time for Hazel to implement a plan that could turn the tide and save the warren. In a last ditch effort to remove the troublesome Bigwig, Woundwort tells him not to waste his life and join his side. Bigwig responds by declaring his chief rabbit has told him to defend the run, “and until he says otherwise, I shall stay here.”
Woundwort, a fascist, combative bully, has been working under the false assumption that Bigwig, with his imposing strength, is the warren’s chief rabbit. This revelation shakes him to his core, because if a buck as courageous as Bigwig isn’t in charge, who is? It’s a substantial character moment in the book: Bigwig trusts Hazel with his life and the life of every other rabbit in their warren.
If you have seen the mini-series, you’ve probably guessed what I am going to write next, which is the show tosses that in favour of Hazel feeding Bigwig those lines to repeat to Woundwort. It tries to tie into the book’s construction of Lapin culture, which counsels rabbits to be full of tricks and cunning in a natural world full of other animals that want to eat them. For me though, it caused the show to take a faceplant that was hard to bounce back from, particularly because it comes so near the end. For someone who has never read the book, it most likely doesn’t matter. I have to ask though, when there are movies and shows getting wide releases with emotive instances ham-fisted into their scripts, why would you think you can do better than one that tops off the story so well and you already have the rights to?
