Alright! Today I'm reviewing the new Netflix drama East of Eden, based on the acclaimed 1952 John Steinbeck novel of the same name. I read East of Eden for the first time last March, and it has quickly become one of my favorite books and inspired me to read more classic literature - meaning that Netflix had a lot to live up to when adapting the great American novel. And does it do that successfully? Is it as faithful as Netflix's One Piece or as faithful as Netflix's Death Note?
Good news! Netflix's East of Eden is a great (but imperfect) adaptation of the Steinbeck novel that adequately covers the bases of the novel and transmits the Biblical allegories in a digestible 7-hour miniseries. Those who have never read the novel will be amazed by the moral complexity of the narrative, and for those who prefer the book, the series will serve as an innocuous and well-made adaptation.
Let's start off with the greatest strengths of the series - the casting. Florence Pugh stars as the villain of the series Cathy Ames, and for one of the most distinguished actresses of the 21st century, this performance shines brightest. She perfectly captures what Steinbeck describes as a sullen, animalistic look in her eyes alongside the small mouth and static face. Despite these restrictions set by the author, Pugh delivers a beautiful and haunting performance that is both emotional, unpredictable, and oftentimes scary.
I also greatly loved Mike Faist as Charles Trask, whose performance is so charistmatic and mesmerizing that it takes one of the most frightening characters in the novel and turns him into the show's breakout character. His accent makes all of his dialogue fun to hear, and he looks great in the 1800s farmer garb. Overall, I'm glad to see Connor Murphy get more mainstream as time goes on! I also loved Hoon Lee as Lee, a surprisingly angry and sarcastic performance, and I especially loved Joseph Zada as Cal Trask. He faces Oscar and Emmy nominated actors without fear and absolutely delivers on the dramatic moments - I wasn't too sure of him at first, but now I'm very excited to see him as Haymith in the new Hunger Games.
On the other hand, I was not sold on Joe Anders as Aron Trask, whose role is greatly reduced and thankless character is made even more annoying. Despite portraying the goody-goody-two-shoes character well enough, I do feel that Anders was miscast and/or otherwise the only poor actor in the series. I also wasn't too happy with Christopher Abbott as Samuel Trask, although he does a well enough job as the character. It's just that, whenever he shares a scene with Pugh, Faist, Zada, or Lee, he can't help but pale in comparison.
I was also a big fan of the production design - the cinematography and lighting, set design, and musical score are all terrific, and such a breath of fresh air after so many bland-looking Netflix series. East of Eden is a series good enough it could have been made by HBO and hearkens back to the 2017-era of Netflix when Orange is the New Black, Ozark, and Stranger Things were the standard. I especially liked how the series portrayed the Salinas Valley, the titular East of Eden, with expansive farms and rolling hills. I was not, however, fond of the gray drab that the series occasionally found itself in, and sometimes the sets looked too modern-looking - but for the most part, it feels distinctly turn of the century.
The series is also faithful to the novel to a surprising amount. The plot is generally the same, the characters are all as they should be, the Biblical allegories are preserved, and in one case, I'd mark a slight improvement over the source material - Aron telling his dad at the dinner table he doesn't want to return to college was much more satisfactory than it was in the book.
On the other hand, there were a few things that the series streamlined, lost, or modernized that I greatly missed. Streamlined was the narrative of the Hamiltons (arguably the novel's weakest part) - East of Eden was a semi-autobiographical novel written for Steinbeck's children where Steinbeck's grandparents and extended family appear in supporting roles to counsel the Trasks, but many of them come and go and their overall impact on the book is minimal.
However, by completely excising most of their storylines and the love between them, you lose the rich parallel with the dreamy, inventor Samuel Hamilton who never finds success and Adam Trask's accidental, unearned wealth. The streamlining of the timeline also means Samuel Hamilton appears in one scene to give advice and dies in the next without any of the closure the novel offered, and the funnier sequences involving his wife are all lost. Without the added backstory of the book, the Hamiltons come off as overly important for their brief appearances.
The decade-spanning novel is very dense with detail and the passage of time, but this miniseries doesn't know how to adapt that other than having characters verbally state how much time has passed. Every other scene starts off with a character saying "It's been a year, Adam, and you haven't moved at all," telling us the passage of time and how the character is doing. "I've heard you're bad, Cal, that you wander the street at night." I was reminded of how impressed I was by Game of Thrones's hability to depict George R.R. Martin's internal dialogues - East of Eden doesn't even try to let the audience interpret.
And that's probably the biggest strike against the series - the Netflix writing. Gone is Steinbeck's magnificent prose and memorable dialogue, replaced by blatant exposition and outright statements of feeling. Sure, the important things make it in - Timshel, the Cain and Abel discussion, the animal monologue, Abra's conversation with Lee - but many of the novel's best lines don't appear, even ones that would have been very easy to include. Samuel Hamilton is notably less fanficul, and I especially missed the following standouts from the novel:
- “Every little boy thinks he invented sin. Virtue we think we learn, because we are told about it. But sin is our own designing" (pg. 266)
- “There’s a responsibility in being a person. It’s more than just taking up space where air would be" (pg. 451).
- “When you’re a child you’re the center of everything. Everything happens for you. Other people? They’re only ghosts furnished for you to talk to. But when you grow up you take your place and you’re your own size and shape. Things go out of you to others and come in from other people. It’s worse, but it’s much better too" (pg. 576)
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