Sometimes, for these novelization columns, I am not super familiar with the movie and need to watch it again before I read the book to refresh myself on what happened, because a scene in the book might be something that wasn't seen onscreen, or I simply forgot about it.
But in the case of From Dusk Till Dawn, I have seen it so many times that at a certain point in Christian Francis' take I tracked when Jacob (Harvey Keitel's character) says “No I didn't” in the book, it was a change from the movie's version of “No I did not.” So, yeah, the changes here (and there are many) all stood out – no refresh view necessary.
But unlike some other novelizations, the fact that there will be changes from the on-screen story is noted right up front. As die-hard fans of the film probably know by now, the story for this film was dreamed up by Robert Kurtzman as something that could be done cheaply as a way to showcase his then-new FX company KNB EFX.
As the K in the initials (along with Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger), Kurtzman figured he might direct the movie himself, but knew he needed a writer to flesh out his “criminals and their hostages band together to fight vampires” story into a proper screenplay.
Luckily, a friend of his showed him some unproduced scripts from an unknown writer named Quentin Tarantino, and he knew he had found his man. It became Tarantino's first paid gig as a screenwriter, and to date, it's his only screenplay credit that wasn't his own idea. Naturally, he put his own stamp on things, and the resulting script (which would ultimately be directed by Robert Rodriguez, not Kurtzman) differs slightly from the original treatment, which is included as a supplement in this super-sized release.
As Kurtzman explains in his foreword, this novelization – timed for the film's 30th anniversary – “remixes” the story we know with some of his original ideas that never made it to the screen. Things are instantly a little different, with the liquor store scene. In Kurtzman's treatment, reproduced here, Seth (George Clooney's character) and Richie (Tarantino) have kidnapped a couple of cops and taken their clothes and squad car. Most of the scene plays the same way, but the two hostage girls in the store are MIA, and McGraw (Michael Parks) becomes suspicious when he sees the cop car parked behind the store.
After that, we also see the brothers rob the bank (in a flashback) and take Gloria, the bank teller, hostage. This is an offscreen event in the film that occurred slightly before they stopped at the liquor store. It's unknown if these changes were made to the movie to save on budget or keep the brothers from being completely unlikable, but it definitely gives the novelized version a more intense first act prior to the introduction of the Fuller family, while also (ironically) allowing for a more jumbled chronology that is present in most of Tarantino's films but the onscreen FDTD lacks.
Francis' version also fleshes out Richie's mental issues. Tarantino's performance mostly just suggests an impulsive, pervy creep, but in the novel we are frequently treated to mentions of a “static” he hears when stressed, which is how he ends up confused and believing things that didn't happen.
Oddly, the book somewhat skips the one instance in the movie where we see what he sees (Juliette Lewis' Kate asking him for a sexual favor), describing the encounter as “He looked caught by her, like he was listening to her.” But it makes it clear that he's hearing things throughout several other scenes, claiming that the guard at the bank went for his gun and that Gloria threatened to kill Seth. Francis also gives him an interesting tic: he repeats things, emphasizing a different word each time. (“I heard him. I HEARD him. I heard HIM.”), “like he was trying out takes to see which one worked better in his head,” per Seth.
On that note, from the beginning until they arrive at the Titty Twister, Francis alternates perspectives among the central characters (and even gives passages to Gloria and Pete, the liquor store guy), using chapter headings to tell us who we're with. Not sure why the approach is dropped when they arrive at the bar, but it's an interesting way to get inside their heads. Interestingly, he does not give any over to Richie, so we only have Seth's interpretation of his actions instead of whatever was in Richie's head to justify them.
But the changes keep on coming; Jacob coming to the rescue when Danny Trejo's bartender refuses them service occurs a bit later, after they've already sat down and had a drink, and most confusingly, Salma Hayek's name of Santanico Pandemonium is changed to Rubia Mortal, and she is also given blonde hair.
The character more or less functions the same (though it lacks the funny “Welcome to slavery” / “No thanks, I already had a wife.” exchange with Seth), but instead of dying almost instantly when things start getting crazy, she survives until the end to pose a bigger threat during their final stand.
The author also gives the dynamic between Seth and Jacob some different flavor. Most of their scenes/exchanges are more or less the same, but it's notable that Jacob does not punch Seth during the scene where the latter points out that he could be their best weapon against the vampires but has lost his faith. They work together a little more and save each other's necks, Seth even apologizes to him for dragging him into this (in the movie, he only apologizes to Kate the next morning, after her father and brother have both been killed).
The character can occasionally come off more like Ned Flanders than the Harvey Keitel version we know (when Scott admits he's read comics that deal with vampires, Jacob acts just as offended as he was by being brought to this “den of sin” in the first place), but as a sucker for the “enemies unite to take on a common threat” trope, I like that this version lets the two men bond a little more than their onscreen counterparts.
We even get a few new characters here, though they don't have much to do. There's a pair of twins named Ezekiel and Isaiah who help them board the place up, plus an unnamed old man who sits at the bar freaking out and ultimately admits he agreed to bring some victims to the bar in exchange for immortality so he could survive the lung cancer that's going to kill him anyway.
It's around here we get one of my personal favorite additions, because it addresses one of the things that nag me about the movie (which I basically love, to be clear): Do the vampires do this every night? When the survivors find the stashes of supplies in the storeroom, they figure out that they've been doing this for a long time – luring in truckers, killing them, and keeping the things they were supposed to be delivering.
But how often can they do this and get away with it? Are there nights where they simply serve booze and sex and then let everyone go? Or are they usually more discreet and only kill one or two guys at random, but decided to lock the doors and lay waste to everyone on this particular night because the Gecko brothers pissed them off? I mean, we don't actually get an answer, because the characters don't know, but I enjoyed that they at least questioned it.
Francis also solves another minor issue I’ve had for 30 years: why they leave the stockroom in the first place. In the movie, Jacob has been bitten, and they sort of pass it off as “Let's go kill a bunch of them while you can still use me to help.” And we go with it, flimsy as it is.
Here, it's actually Seth that's been bitten, and the plan is for him (the only “badass” of the group) to use his time before turning to help them fight their way back to the door and get to the RV so the Fuller family can escape. Sure, the logical answer remains “Kill the bitten guy and wait for sunlight”, but at least this version makes a little more sense and gives Seth a chance to redeem himself.
Some other things about the ending also change, but I won't get into those so you can enjoy it for yourself (unlike most of these columns, this book is brand new so it's not like you've all had a chance to read it yet). I’ll only say that Francis keeps the “remix” approach going right up to the very end.
There are several other changes, some minor but notable (Tom Savini's Sex Machine has no crotch gun!), others more just a little odd (Scott is the one to ask Jacob about why he lost his faith, instead of Kate as in the movie), but nothing that is an outright bad call except the final few pages, which (spoiler warning) seems more like an attempt to make a direct sequel story (the film got a sequel, Texas Blood Money, that had little connection to the first) by having the surviving characters make different choices, and turns Carlos into an outright antagonist type character as opposed to a shady ally.
And I really didn't get why Santanico's character was overhauled, especially since everyone else was depicted the same way, but it wasn't the end of the world.
For the most part, I enjoyed getting a sort of alternate universe take on From Dusk Till Dawn’s events, having the characters fleshed out (interesting note: Kate is also adopted here, not a biological child of Jacob and his deceased wife as I’ve always assumed), and even getting a little more action in the process.
Since the book includes the intros (Kurtzman's and another from Tom Savini), Kurtzman's original treatment, concept art, and the storyboards for the entire opening sequence, it's a pretty sweet package for any fan of the film. And you don't have to put up with any of Tarantino's acting!
The From Dusk Till Dawn novelization is available from Echo On Publications.
