Holes

I *heart* both the book and the movie. I know that’s a first—usually good books don’t make good movies—but this is one story that actually works well in both mediums.

Teenager Stanley Yelnats is wrongfully convicted of stealing a pair of shoes and sent to Camp Green Lake to be “rehabilitated.” Once there, he’s ordered to dig a hole that’s five feet wide and five feet deep; he’s to finish to digging one such hole every day using nothing but a simple shovel, out in the middle of a scorching desert with very little water. Understandably, most of the “campers” hate it at Camp Green Lake, and it’s not uncommon for them to try to commit suicide by snakebite, just for a chance to get out of the heat. In fact, one of the movie’s opening scenes shows Stanley’s predecessor at Camp Greenlake, Barf Bag, slowly stripping off his shoe and sock and dangling his foot in front of a rattle snake.

It’s a very cool scene. (1)

Of course, the campers aren’t just digging for the good of their souls—they’re actually looking for something that the warden wants, although they have no idea what it is. Exactly what the warden’s looking for is explained through flashbacks, which relate the history of Green Lake, a town that once stood where the camp now does. Stanley’s rotten luck—getting arrested for a crime he didn’t commit, his family’s poverty, etc—is also explained by going back in time. But even though there’s plenty of shifting back and forth through the centuries, this device never gets old, and it’s never confusing, even on film.

It’s hard to say whether the book or the film is better, but the novel edges a little bit ahead simply because of Sachar’s brilliant writing. Sachar doesn’t have a very involved style, which helps make this book is a thing of beauty—every word fits perfectly. The opening pages are deliciously creepy and sad, partly because Sachar relates the awfulness of Camp Green Lake in simple language: there are no frills to distract the reader from the ideas he conveys, and those ideas are pretty horrifying. This same style is what makes later passages in the book so funny, because even the most outrageous statements are written in such a deadpan manner that you can’t help but giggle.

I’m glad that Sachar also wrote the screenplay, because he seriously rocked that thing. Although the film’s not quite as good as the book, it’s still one of the best movies I’ve seen. Ever. Even though he has all these subplots that should make the film confusing, Sachar manages to shift from place to place, and from century to century, without messing up the narrative flow. He kept some of the best lines from the book, and came up with some great new ones; he managed to write a script that was every bit as funny and moving as his novel—and almost as complex (he condensed a few of the flashbacks, but he kept the essential information in). If he fell down on the job anywhere, it was with showing Stanley’s thought processes. An essential part of the book, they simply aren’t there in the movie (although I don’t know how he could have crammed them in without some seriously hokey voice-overs, so I can’t really blame him on that one).

As good as Sachar’s writing is, it wouldn’t have saved the movie if the acting was terrible. But it’s not—which is surprising considering how young most of the cast is. Shia LeBoef is wonderful as Stanley: he’s got that adorably confused thing going on, and when he kisses a letter to his mom before he mails it, I dare you not to go “Awwwwwww! He’s the best son in the whole world!” (2) The other kids aren’t quite as good, but they’re still pretty awesome—they all had amazing comedic timing and enough talent not to blow their dramatic scenes. If there’s one actor in the whole movie who messed up, it’s the boy who played Zero (Stanley’s only real friend at camp), and that’s only in one scene, which also happened to be the only scene where Sachar’s writing got a little hokey (he took a line of exposition from the book and made Zero say it—usually not a good idea).

I pimp both the movie and the book because they’re almost equally great at telling a wonderful story. But the real reason to watch the movie is simple: the hottie quotient is high, ladies. The boys are all pretty cute, yes (and I can say this, since I’m not much older than most of them) (3), and there are two supporting characters in their mid-twenties who are simply scrumptious. For example, the guy who plays Stanley’s ancestor, Elya, is so hot that I want to eat up with a spoon (4). Ahem.

Buy the book. See the movie. They’re both amazing.

(4) Perhaps with fava beans and a nice chianti?*

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