Or, Why the TV Show Should Never Have Existed
It was one of those typical days when you don’t really know what you want to watch on Netflix that I came across a show with a very intriguing name: Anatomy of a Scandal, a miniseries of only six episodes about a politician accused of rape. Sounded quite scandalous. I almost watched the whole series in a single day. The story was fascinating, fast-paced, and kept you hooked.
And because of that, I decided to buy the book the show was based on, written by Sarah Vaughan. I know it’s a common argument in literary circles that you should read the book before watching a show or a film about it and, let me tell you, people who say that are completely right.
The book was amazing. The way the story flows made turning pages incredibly easy, and maintained the kind of pace that can keep you awake at night trying to finish it. Anatomy of a Scandal possesses a straightforward writing style that aids in the development of a complex plot. It makes you empathise with the characters one way or another. After reading the first chapter it quickly became clear that the TV show was one of the least accurate book-to-screen adaptations that I have ever seen.
The book provides a deep intrusion into the mind of the characters. It lets us in on every thought or feeling they are going through, which helps the reader to understand how they are adapting to change whilst at the same time allowing us to feel like we are a part of the process. Because of this, it almost feels like we can understand the complications of a rape trial without the need for any existing expert knowledge. This is something that is missing in the show, which has created an atmosphere of distance that puts viewers firmly in the role of spectators with no part in the development of the plot.
The book was an opportunity to take a deep dive into the exclusive privileges of a small group of people, who thought that because they were born wealthy that meant they could do whatever they wanted. Somehow the show fails to emphasise this very crucial point, representing their privilege via a few shots of their time at Oxford without really explaining what is going on. In the book it is made clear how crucial these moments are to the development of the story.
Overall the book makes significant effort to try and explain the complexities of sex, the abuse of power, and rape in relation to each other through its depiction of a tormented cast of characters. The TV series doesn’t land nearly as well, perhaps because its length doesn’t allow for enough depth, or as a result of the central scandal – made up of a variety of very different, messy topics – being resolved so suddenly. Characters on the show don’t really act or speak like real people would in their situation, and so they fail to transmit to viewers the feelings that Vaughan intended readers to take away from the book.
It is unfortunate that the TV adaptation of Anatomy of a Scandal does not achieve the same high standards as its source material, primarily by its failure to explain the plot correctly. It doesn’t dive as deep as it should into the complexities of the rape story and the consequent traumas experienced by the victim – the central themes the show is supposed to revolve around.
Words by Marta Cerdá Martinez
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