Ernest Gaines knew well the risks associated with adapting his books to film. Prior to the release of the film adaptation of A Gathering of Old Men, Gaines was interviewed by Sonya Masingale for the news program Folks. When Masingale asked how it felt to see his work “come alive” on screen, Gaines reflected, with some hesitation, that “the writer writes to be read. His book is written there to be read. To see the book on screen is an added thing” (Folks). He added that while there were many good scenes in the film, that much was changed from the novel. The benefit, though, is in the film’s help “sell(ing) the book; it helps promote the book and it makes the writer known.” There lives the essential dilemma of film adaptation: while it will help with the writer’s recognition, it will inevitably change from the story told in the written text.

In the film adaptation of A Gathering of Old Men, there are several key differences in how the story shared in Gaines’ novel relates the murder of Beau Boutan and the resulting reactions of Mathu, Candy, and Charlie. In comparing the film and the original text, we’re not evaluating based on a hierarchical, better or worse value system, but instead as materials in conversation with one another. The book, as Gaines would say, was meant to be read. The film might differ in how it portrays its characters, but ultimately, creates a narrative of elderly Black men’s stories for an audience that may not be reached by a book.

Released in 1987 as a made-for-television movie for CBS, A Gathering of Old Men was filmed in Thibodeaux, Louisiana, and featured Ernest Gaines in the role of unofficial consultant (Laney 4). The film was directed by Volker Schlondorff, a white German director hired by Gower Frost, a white British producer. Frost was the major proponent behind converting the novel to film, saying, “I read it straight through on Sunday and phoned Gaines’ agent on Monday… Sometimes you read something you can just visualize with a film” (Laney 5). Charles H. Fuller, Jr., a Black American playwright, was hired to write the adaptation. While Gaines may have been on set as a consultant, he was quoted later as saying, “There are lots of things you can criticize anytime someone makes something else out of your work. I’m sure Shakespeare could have criticized productions of his work. Tolstoy or Faulner, you know. God with the Bible. Somebody is going to have to pay for it when they get up there with Him” (Gaudet and Wooten 89). Perhaps it is in the changes made, then, that we might find the places Gaines might have criticized. While it was Fuller, a Black man from Philadelphia, who adapted the script, its important to question how this story would have been handled differently by a Southern writer or a Black director and production team. When the story is told through different lenses, like a white European lens, the story becomes something else.

In the first scene of the novel, we meet the young Snookums as he is charged by Candy Marshall to deliver information as quickly as possible. The first sense of panic or tension we have is then created with Candy’s urgency and expectation to be heard. In the film, the first images that greet the viewer are of Black people in the Quarters, conducting their ordinary days. After the title fades, we watch as an agricultural machine mows down sugarcane and we witness a functioning plantation. Then, we hear yelling – a Black man runs out of the sugar cane being chased by a tractor, driven by a white man screaming, “I’m gonna get you, Charlie! I’m gonna get you, boy!” (A Gathering of Old Men 1:40-1:46). We watch as the man on the tractor points a shotgun at the back of the running Charlie. A voiceover tells us, “It didn’t start this morning. It started 30, 40 years ago. That wasn’t the first time I run from somebody. All my life, that’s all I’ve ever done is run from people” (1:52-2:04). This voiceover mimics the scene of Charlie’s return in the book, but instead of occuring as the film’s climax, they chose to frame Charlie from the beginning as the one who shot Beau. He is the first film character we see, the first voice we hear – as told in the novel, Charlie is only the recipient of Beau’s rage until his return to Mathu’s house in the room of old men. We see Charlie actually shoot Beau in this scene, which eliminates the narrative surprise of the book, the reveal of Charlie as the killer.

The next scene in the film then establishes the way in which Candy and Mathu’s roles changes in how this story is told. We see Candy crossing her porch, asking Janey if she heard the gunshot that she’ll discover has just killed Beau (4:40). She immediately hops in her car to investigate, and in the time it takes her to drive to Mathu’s house, Charlie has explained to Mathu that he cannot stay to be lynched by Fix Boutan, Beau’s father. Mathu tells him to go, to escape the punishment, and as Candy arrives, Charlie has gone from the yard, leaving Mathu with a shotgun in hand and a body in his yard. Candy begins to question Mathu, commanding him to answer her (6:43). In their exchange, Mathu communicates through silence and glances, largely ignoring Candy’s pleas. It is based on this “communication,” if we can call it that, that Candy decides to gather as many old men together as possible.

All of these exchanges happen outside of the original text created by Gaines. In the novel, the call to action is revealed through subtlety and the different perspectives of first-person narrators who exist outside the main action of the story. In the film, the reasons behind the call to action have to become explicit in order to be understood because we don’t have that first-person internal monologue to reveal the underlying tensions or race and power. By giving signposts in the form of extratextual scenes, the film makes the motivations of the characters clear. Charlie is protecting himself, Mathu is protecting Charlie, and Candy is protecting Mathu. While all of this is conveyed in the novel, the when and where the information is shared affects the audiences understanding.