Joseph Heller’s 1961 antiwar satire Catch-22 has been hailed as a classic of modern literature for so long that some might think it’s critic-proof. But a new six-episode miniseries adaptation, whose first episode premieres today on Hulu, seems to offer a critique of its own—by leaving certain things out.
The novel, set during World War II, primarily tells the story of John Yossarian, a U.S. Army Air Forces bombardier who’s stationed on an island base off the coast of Italy. The rambling story jumps back and forth in time as he and his fellow soldiers deal with not only brutal combat, but also obtuse leadership and ridiculous regulations. Some subplots head into surreal territory, such as that of an all-encompassing “syndicate” run by 1st Lt. Milo Minderbinder, a mess officer who strikes lucrative deals with businessmen and governments worldwide; he even becomes the mayor of Palermo. One chapter focuses entirely on a character named Major Major Major, whose rank is major. There’s a lot of this kind of thing, as well as many, many bits involving twisted, contradictory logic, including the famous example that gives the novel its name: “There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. [Bomber pilot] Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions.”
Heller apparently loved contradiction more than anything else in the world: “That crazy bastard may be the only sane one left.” “[E]veryone who knew him liked him. ‘I hate that son of a bitch,’ Yossarian growled.” It’s all employed to make a satirical point about nonsensical bureaucracy and the pointless evil of war—but once that point is made, all the vaudevillian, “Who’s on First?”-style craziness gets wearisome, to say the least. The Hulu miniseries, scripted by Lion’s Academy Award-nominated screenwriter Luke Davies and Hesher co-writer David Michôd, thankfully excises many of these bits and generally smooths out the chronology, which makes the narrative feel less like a frenetic stand-up monologue. Unfortunately, it also drains it of much of its energy, making it a glum, by-the-numbers World War II epic. Yossarian, as played by James White’s Christopher Abbott, is a haunted figure who barely resembles the book’s wisecracking protagonist. Hugh Laurie gives a forgettable performance as Major de Coverley that will feel like a shameful waste to fans of his work on Blackadder. George Clooney, who also executive-produced and co-directed the miniseries, does his best as the cartoonish, parade-minded Lt. Gen. Scheisskopf, but he ends up feeling more like a mildly irritated version of ER’s Dr. Doug Ross.
The book’s later sections are often much grimmer in tone, featuring the bombing of innocents and the horrific, accidental death of a minor character, among other horrors. These are included in the miniseries, as they fit the more somber tone, and the filmmakers mostly handle them with skill. However, both the novel and miniseries share a major flaw: Not a single woman is depicted as a fully developed character.
Heller expounds on women’s bodies at great length, but he seems to have been profoundly uninterested in these characters as human beings. One of the few named women in the book is Nurse Sue Ann Duckett, and a chapter named after her begins by lasciviously describing her physique; before the page is through, Yossarian and another soldier sexually assault her, which somehow becomes grist for another one of the author’s comedy bits. Another woman, who’s also the butt of jokes, is referred to only as the “whore” of another soldier. The miniseries wisely deletes Nurse Duckett’s assault, and it tones down, but doesn’t eliminate, the “whore” references. However, it does include the book’s rape and murder of another sex worker. In the novel and in the miniseries, this woman seems to exist only to die—and to provide Yossarian with angst about the horrible state of humanity. It remains a tired and repellent fictional trope—and the filmmakers certainly didn’t need to resurrect another example from a 58-year-old novel.
David Rapp is the senior Indie editor.
Images Courtesy of Hulu
