Burning: A Delightfully Dreadful Adaptation (and my thoughts on the novel vs film adaptation debate)

 Alex G

12/2/25

The film Burning got me thinking. The debate over the film adaptation versus the novel
 has existed for over a century and has been discussed to death. Most people come to the
consensus that the original novel material is usually superior to its film counterpart. I
first encountered this debate when reading Harry Potter. I have fond memories of reading
The Sorcerer's Stone in elementary school. I had trouble learning to read, and it was the
first advanced novel that I picked up. It sparked a love of reading in me. However, if
someone asked me what I thought of the movie, I could not recall anything memorable
from watching it. Sure, I recall certain clips, but nothing too memorable. Just as I, many
readers are filled with a nostalgia for classic novels that get adapted to film, creating near-
impossible standards for these films to meet. Some films do meet these expectations, but
require a thorough understanding and appreciation of the source material, and a screenwriter
who understands the differences between film and literature. For no matter how faithful to
the original novel, the film becomes something different, a new piece of art. Burning
understands this very well, creating an effective film. Despite facing the challenge of
adapting a very short story shrouded in subtlety, the film manages to expand on the feeling
of dread and thriller elements. The film also builds on the “barn burning” detail, pushing
the suspicion of Ben as far as it can, while never revealing whether or not he is actually a
killer. It would be criminal to (fully) spoil the ending, so I’ll just say this. What makes the
original short story so great is the buildup of dread that creeps into the reader's mind. The
film adaptation takes this literary element and creates a new narrative out of it. One that
makes the viewer question whether or not the protagonist is a reliable narrator. In that way,
Burning not only succeeds as its own piece of art but also improves Murakami’s original idea.
Now that is rare air.