Adam Sandler's movies haver never represented the apex of cultural awareness, but they do tend to grapple, if somewhat brashly, with the finer points of human relations. In his latest raunchfest, You Don't Mess with the Zohan, the insolent comic creates "his stupidest character ever" (as an audience member muttered five minutes into last night's New York preview screening), but it's also his most symbolic one: Sporting a hyperbolic flair for disco music and using hummus as toothpaste, hardened Israeli soldier Zohan is a bloated creature of Semitic extremes.

Overall, however, the movie uses metaphors more than stereotypes. When Zohan and a furious Palestinian terrorist (John Turturro) use paddles to bat a live grenade back and forth, the result is a lowbrow editorial cartoon.

Everyone up to speed on The Golden Compass rhubarb? Claims are that the new film adaptation tends to soft-shoe some of the pretty clearly anti-fundamentalist religion elements in Philip Pullman's source novel. Here's Ryan Stewart's Cinematical item on Nicole Kidman going public with the "watering down" last August. Now, on MTV's movie blog, director Chris Weitz reaches for a time-tested defense: "Philip Pullman likes to quote James M. Cain on this issue. Once, when somebody asked him if he was worried what a movie adaptation would do to his book, he said, `What do you mean? The book is right over there, on the shelf.'"

Now, let me digress for a second. The only time I ever met Allen Ginsberg (wonderfully played by David Cross in I'm Not There, BTW), I wasted my thirty seconds in his presence listening to the same comment regarding Cronenberg's Naked Lunch. When a sage like Ginsberg says this bit about the unruined book you listen. But here's other claimants: In the blog Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, a correspondent is complaining about V for Vendetta, a film disowned by the source writer Alan Moore: "I keep meeting people who love this movie and my only solace in my bitterness after seeing what they did to Moore's brilliant work is a quote from the author himself:

"Interviewer: 'How do you feel about Hollywood ruining your work?'
Moore: 'What are you talking about, they didn't ruin my work, it is right up there on the shelf.'"

Here, a person worried about the then-upcoming film of Lord of the Rings cites Stephen King as the one who knows where his unruined books are, right on the shelf; here, it is Larry Niven calming the fears of those who feel his book Ringworld will be ruined as a film. Just for good measure, from the Portland, Oregon blog "Book Pusher," is a list of five good books that are waiting to be ruined, and the best way to ruin them. Can you wait for the The Farrelly Brother's wild comedy Me Talk Pretty Some Day with Adrien Brody as David Sedaris (does the hero have to be gay)?
My point is: let's don't hear this time-worn excuse anymore. Here's one from Evelyn Waugh instead: "Each book purchased for motion pictures has some individual quality, good or bad, that has made it remarkable. It is the work of a great array of highly paid and incompatible writers to distinguish this quality, separate it, and obliterate it."

There's a pretty informative story about how, after getting the gig to adapt his own novel The Cider House Rules, John Irving sat down feeling fairly confident, thinking something to the effect that "Hey, all I have to do is re-type who people are, what they do and what they say -- this'll be a breeze ..." and, after doing that with his novel, found he had enough screenplay pages ... for a nine-hour film. Adaptations are tough: What do you leave in, what do you leave out? Is fidelity the only true measure of worth, or can carefully-made changes actually improve the film version of a book? Below are some of my picks for the best adapted screenplays of the past ten years; as ever, this list is wildly subjective, and our ever-hungry comments section awaits your picks. ...

1) Jackie Brown (1997)

A great example of how tweaking a good book can make it even better -- Quentin Tarantino's adaptation of Elmore Leonard's novel Rum Punch moved the setting from one coast to another, changed the race of one of the leads -- and, by ignoring such petty details, wound with a film that completely nails the talky, criminal, human spirit of Elmore Leonard's amazing body of work. Leonard's work also gave Tarantino the first grown-up story he's ever worked with, and Tarantino stepped up to the plate and delivered -- as fond as I am of Pulp Fiction's incendiary inventions, I still think Jackie Brown is the better actual film.

2) Children of Men (2006)

Another case where the screenwriters modified much of the book to the improvement of the story -- P.D. James's novel takes place over a period of months, while Curaron's film speeds by over a few days like a fever-dream nightmare. There are other changes, too (Clive Owen's lead is no longer related to England's all-powerful Big Brother, but, instead, Danny Huston's minor functionary), but the decision to strip Children of Men down to a few nightmare days was incredibly insightful -- and made for an adaptation that works as an amazing film.