From Novel to Screen – The Outsider

 

Photo Credit: Matt Handle

Warning, this post contains spoilers. If you haven’t read Stephen King’s novel The Outsider or seen the HBO mini-series based on the book, but plan to, read no further.

 

As a horror writer and reader, I’m a fan of Mr. King’s work. If you doubt it, check out one of my earliest posts (which I’ve updated multiple times) where I rank nearly every novel he’s written. While his books are almost always good, screen adaptations tend to be a mixed bag. For every The Shining or The Shawshank Redemption, we’ve also got Maximum Overdrive and The Dark Tower. Cerebral horror doesn’t always translate. I thought HBO’s take on The Outsider was one of the better television offerings of 2020 and unlike every other adaptation of his work, I actually saw the show before I read the book. Having just finished the novel, I took note of several key differences between the two versions and thought they might be worthy of some discussion here on my blog. Some of screenwriter Richard Price’s changes were for the better, others not so much.

The Character of Holly Gibney

One of the most striking differences between the novel and the series is the casting of Cynthia Erivo as the paranormal detective Holly Gibney. She’s a character who first appeared in King’s Bill Hodges trilogy so even though I saw this series before I read the book, I had a preconceived vision of this character having read all three of the previous books the character appeared in. Erivo delivers one of the series’ stronger performances, but I couldn’t shake the feeling she was someone other than Gibney. Gibney is described as pale, gray haired, and worryingly thin in the books. Erivo is none of those things. I don’t think the casting choice was necessarily good or bad, it was just a major departure from the author’s vision. Personally, I always pictured someone like Lili Taylor in the role. Both women are fine actors. It’s interesting to ponder whether more traditional casting might have made a major difference in how the character was perceived.

  

Anderson’s Son, Derek

My favorite change Price introduced is what he did with detective Ralph Anderson’s son. In the book, teenage Derek is off at camp. He’s a parallel of victim Frankie Peterson in that the detective relates to the horrific tragedy of the child’s murder because he has a son of his own, but Derek is never at risk or a real player in the novel’s events. The series presents Derek as deceased, a victim of cancer. This death is still fresh on Anderson’s mind, an open wound that haunts him and has scarred him badly. I thought this change made the detective a much more interesting character and made his questionable tactics against Terry Maitland at the start of the story more plausible. Actor Ben Mendelsohn always delivers, but this backstory really gave him something to work with.

 

Sex Sells?

While I liked Erivo’s portrayal of Holly Gibney, I didn’t see the purpose of adding a love affair between her character and Andy Katcavage, a former detective and current security guard who doesn’t exist in the novel. I suppose the idea was to help show another side of Gibney, but the affair (and Katcavage himself) felt unnecessary to the main storyline. Given Gibney’s peculiar nature and her savant-like focus on the case she’s working, why would she wind up in bed with a man she barely knows and doesn’t seem to have much in common with?

 

The Climactic Battle

The final battle between our heroes and the villain changes significantly from the book to the series as well. In the novel, Anderson and Gibney descend into El Cuco’s subterranean lair where they realize Anderson cannot shoot it because it will cause a cave-in. As a result, Gibney saves the day via using a handmade weapon that is a callback to her tutelage under Bill Hodges. In the series, Anderson shoots the monster which causes a cave-in but our heroes escape. The series also presents a post-battle tease that suggests Gibney might have been infected by the monster, hinting at a possible second season. Personally, I prefer the book’s finale. It’s conclusive; it’s unique, and ultimately more satisfying.

 

Bottom line, you can’t go wrong with either version of The Outsider. Both are solid horror fun, differences and all.