Can TV Shows Based on Movies Actually Be Good?

Would anybody be interested in a Cheers movie? Could Pulp Fiction sustain its unique brand of storytelling through seven seasons on television? Though we would be interested to see producers attempt either, you’d have to bet that the answer to both questions is no. Though it is difficult to take a property from film to television, the rewards are huge. A built-in audience of a certain size will make any producer salivate.

Until recently, the film to TV move had generally negative results. Utterly forgettable shows like Ferris Bueller, Delta House, and My Big Fat Greek Life still serve as cautionary tales to executives whose senses are blinded by the prospect of residuals. Lately, the move hasn’t seemed so crazy. Friday Night Lights, Bates Motel, and Hannibal have found critical and commercial success. The mark left by these shows has paved the way for a slew of new contenders debuting in the next year or two.

This week, tear-jerker movie adaptation master Jason Katims is bringing yet another heartwarming film dramedy to TV with About A Boy, based on 2002 Hugh Grant-starrer of the same name. We don’t know if audiences will bite, but we do know what kind of properties tend to succeed with such a transition. Let's take a look at some of the more successful jumps from film to TV and ask Can TV Shows Based on Movies Actually Be Good?

Better than the original: Yes

MTV has been fighting to shift its image from the home of vapid reality TV to the destination for solid teen drama. Surprisingly, Teen Wolf is actually one of the finer shows on the network's burgeoning slate.

The original film was campy, as was the fashion among lesser '80s comedies. The show's creators took the opposite approach: they treated the premise with grave seriousness. Sure, there are moments of levity and high school awkwardness, but the show lives in a moody, dark space of chiaroscuro lighting and angst-heavy performances. Teen Wolf has more in common with other supernatural dramas in the teen demo like Vampire Diaries and Supernatural than 80s schlock comedy.

The series is beginning the back-end of its third season with substantial momentum, largely because it has done almost everything differently from the original film. Like a deadbeat parent, the only thing that the film ever really gave the series was its name.

Better than the original: No

Apparently, hot spies sell. Who knew?

Luc Besson's 1990 spy thriller Nikita has spawned two successful television series and an American film version. Both television efforts performed well. The first, 1997's La Femme Nikita, lasted five seasons and was the highest rated cable drama for its first two. The newer incarnation began in 2010 and enjoyed a four-season run.

Both series were marked by grittier, darker tones and greater emphasis on plot than most "spy-fu" television pieces. Due to the restrictions of television, neither series could hope to match the dark edge and cynicism of Besson's original work. There aren't necessarily lessons to be gleaned about adaptation here, though. These series retaught us a lesson we've already learned many times: ass-kicking babes make bank.

Better than the original: No

There are, of course, the film-to-television moves we would rather forget. The 1995 film version of Clueless was a cultural powerhouse, a box office success that influenced the way girls spoke and dressed across the country. Think Mean Girls if even the popular girls saw it, like The Hangover for the bros' girlfriends.

The television spin-off is a classic example of a project motivated by dollar signs and not story. This sitcom's pilot is a hollow rehashing of the film's premise, complete with a cast with filled with actors from the film whose careers didn't take off. That the series lasted three seasons is a testament to the film's popularity and the power of ABC's juggernaut TGIF line-up, not the quality in the show.

Scenarios like this, where a show will succeed based on property and not quality, are an executive's dream, an example of why you likely won't see the trend of force-fed film-to-television development end any time soon.

Better than the original: If you know anyone who's actually seen Moonrunners, ask them.

Yes, it's true—The Dukes of Hazzard was based on a motion picture. The film source material was a B-movie called Moonrunners (1975) that wasn't exactly a blockbuster.

Though The Dukes of Hazzard isn't remembered as a great show, except by your redneck uncle, the series remains one of the most successful film-to-television moves of all time. The show, which ran for seven seasons, remains a cultural institution. The General Lee and Daisy Dukes, for instance, are two transcendent pieces of Americana.

Warner Bros. approached creator Gy Waldron to adapt his film Moonrunners for television when they realized that guys like to see cars driving fast. Sounds familiar? That's also the genius inspiration for the Fast and Furious franchise and innumerable other films and television shows that you'd rather not watch.

Better than the original: No

Watching In the Heat of the Night today, one is struck by the show's ambition. The creators were clearly inspired to explore race relations in the South with as thoughtful and compelling an approach as the original 1967 film.

Unfortunately, television's limitations at the time are painfully evident as you watch. The series is limited by its form, and falls well short of its ambitions. The show still enjoyed critical success, as it offered more than most drama series of the period. As In the Heat of the Night drew to an end, NYPD Blue was getting started, and the march towards matching TV drama's quality with its ambitions was underway. John Ball, the creator of In the Heat of the Night, deserves some credit for having the vision to aspire for the dramatic quality of cinema in television, even if the goal was unattainable at the time.

Better than the original: Of course not

One strategy for successful film-to-television adaptation is to put distance between the source material. This is especially helpful when working from a beloved and respected precursor. Some shows pick up a couple years after the action of the film. Other series shift the focus to a broader group of characters to sustain dozens of episodes. Bates Motel, however, retreats deep into its Psycho (1960) characters' pasts.

If you had your doubts about the show, you aren't alone, but in the able hands of Carlton Cuse (co-creator of Lost) and company, the series is confident and original. It leans hard towards the melodramatic, but owns its heightened sense of reality. Bates Motel refuses to live in the formidable shadow of Alfred Hitchcock's source material, introducing many of its own unique eccentricities.

No, it isn't better than Psycho, but it's still a solid show worthy of conversation outside of its (homicidal) family tree.

Better than the original: Tie

Few premises are as repeatable as Highlander. Though eventually "there can only be one," an inexhaustible army of immortals can plague the McCloud boys through across numerous platforms, and the story remains compelling.

Highlander has become a media empire; it seems that the premise can succeed in any form. To date, the franchise has produced five films, two live-action series, two animated series, ten novels, and 17 comic books. The question with Highlander was never, "Can it succeed as a series?" A more appropriate question is, "Is there any form in which it can't succeed?"

We look forward to the eventual Highlander web series, interactive video games, and Google Glass apps that will surely be developed as the Highlander franchise perseveres as long as its titular character.

Better than the original: No, but they're totally different.

Kevin Smith's zany animated follow-up to his gritty, hugely successful 1994 indie comedy was predictably DOA. Following an cultural juggernaut of a film with a zany cartoon is not a formula for success.

The series has more in common with Fox's animation block or Adult Swim's programming than the original film. If you think that sounds like something that would fit nicely on ABC, you've obviously never seen any shows on ABC. Clerks: The Animated Series didn't fit the network; the show didn't share tonal space with the film; the episodes were even aired out of order.

Unsurprisingly, Clerks: The Animated Series was abruptly cancelled. The abbreviated six-episode series became a cult favorite among fans. Robust DVD sales, re-airings on Comedy Central and Cartoon Network, and critical acclaim salvaged the project from being remembered as an absolute disaster.

Even if you haven't been a Kevin Smith fan since you were fifteen, it's hard not to appreciate the risky originality of the project. Few film-to-television moves have taken this sort of risk, though the fate of the series all but ensures that you won't see this kind of risk again.

Better than the original: Yes

Science fiction is generally helped by pre-existing source material. The strength of a sci-fi story lies in the breadth and depth of world creation. It stands to reason that a show culled for pre-existing material would be all the stronger for it. With sci-fi shows based on movies, the general motivation, for the most part, isn't just to capitalize on the branding of a film, but to further mine world whose surfaces can only be scratched in two hours.

Like Battlestar Galactica and the rebooted Doctor Who, Stargate SG-I benefits from a pre-existing blueprint. From the pilot, the series is steeped in rich, complex mythology. Clearly the producers saw something in Roland Emmerich's 1994 film that could sustain long-form storytelling. The show broke The X-Files' record for longest running American science fiction series, a record that has only been surpassed by Smallville (which, of course, is also based on a body of source material).

Better than the original: NO

If you're trying to create a franchise, it's smart to build in a vast timeline. By establishing that both John Connor and SkyNet are manipulating the present, the producers of Terminator (which hit theaters in 1981) created a scenario with infinite variables. Each action taken by SkyNet warrants a response from Connor, introducing new complications in the present.

The franchise stumbled into an inexhaustible series premise. The premise also allowed for the exploration of some complex themes for a network sci-fi series. As interests from the future continued to influence the present, questions of free will and fate were explore between skirmishes. Despite asserting itself as a case study on how to translate a piece from film to TV, ratings dropped off in season two, and the show came to a premature end.

Better than the original: NO

Though Parenthood, the 1989 Steve Martin-starrer, has been developed for TV twice, the first 1990 effort will be remembered as a footnote. The 1990 series lasted only 12 episodes while the more recent attempt wraps up its fifth season next month.

The current series is imperfect. Many episodes leave you wishing the show had the light touch of the film when they indulge in bits of saccharine melodrama. But that's a minor criticism of a solid show.

It seems that Friday Night Lights taught showrunner Jason Katims to look for films with story left untold. While Friday Night Lights has an entire football team to mine for stories, Parenthood offers a dynamic extended family rich with drama. Even if the show can be heavy-handed at times, the writers have found personal stories to tell through five compelling seasons. Hopefully, Parenthood motivates other creators to build out film worlds too full for two hours of storytelling to unpack.

Better than the original: Completely demolishes the original

Rarely can you say that a TV adaptation is more true to the screenplay than the original film; in the case of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, however it makes complete sense.

Joss Whedon penned the screenplay for the 1992 feature film version of Buffy and was not happy with Fran Rubel Kuzui's direction of the project. Whedon said, "I had written this scary film about an empowered woman, and they turned it into a broad comedy. It was crushing." When Whedon was approached about adapting Buffy for television, he jumped at the chance to bring the franchise in line with his original vision.

By any metric you choose, critical or financial, the television series was more successful than the film. Not only was the show popular, it grew into a pop culture phenomenon. Even amidst this golden age of TV, the series is as buoyant, honest, and charming as it was when it first premiered.

Better than the original: Tie

There's only one way to follow Anthony Hopkins in 1991's Silence of the Lambs: Don't try to follow Anthony Hopkins.

Only a stylist of a showrunner like Bryan Fuller could write a new viable chapter in the book of Lecter. Fuller takes pride in every frame of his television, whether working in light fare like Pushing Daisies or wading into darker depths, as he has with Hannibal. Fuller's impressive body of work stakes out a place somewhere between a storybook and reality, creating a distinct calling card. That same quirky sensibility that Fuller brings to his visuals, he also coats over his dialogue. The dialogue aims for emotional depth, but isn't afraid of corny jokes and goofy metaphors.

Fuller understood that to make Hannibal work he had to create something that felt separate and complete on its own. Though comparisons are inevitable, Fuller built a series that stands apart from any other piece of the Lecter canon. You are free to prefer the earlier chapters without the quirky veneer, but you have to admit that he has successfully created a deeply personal version of a well-trod story.

Better than the original: Tie

On any list of the greatest television shows of all time, M*A*S*H has to be included, and likely near the top. It goes without saying that the series is one of the greatest film to television development feats in history. Even though the 1970 original film's material was lightened a bit for television, M*A*S*H compellingly captured the need for diversion in a war zone.

When the series wanted to hit emotional notes, it could turn off the laughs, deliver a gut punch, and then turn the laughs back on again. Not until Sports Night decades later would a show grate against its laugh track so aggressively. Many shows on this list succeeded because they toned down their film inspiration, and M*A*S*H is no exception.

Better than the original: Absolutely

Few shows have ever been shepherded from film to television as purposefully as Friday Night Lights. Creator Peter Berg began developing the series as soon as production was wrapped on the 2004 feature of the same name. Berg was so enthralled by his source material, which comes from Buzz Bissinger's non-fiction work, also titled Friday Night Lights, that he could already see the series.

When setting up the show, Berg called shooting in Texas a "deal breaker" and hired several actors to take on similar roles to those they played in the film. He brought back actors like Connie Britton and Brad Leland not because of their name recognition (they had none), but because they understood the world he was creating.

Friday Nights Lights met near universal acclaim for the honesty endowed in every aspect of the show. The performances, camerawork, and sets all worked in tandem to lend the show an air of authenticity. Looking at the origins of Friday Night Lights teaches us that one of the most important ingredients in a successful move from film to TV is motivation. Peter Berg didn't see dollar signs when he set out to create the Friday Night Lights series; he saw stories that hadn't been told. Though genre and production values are a factor, perhaps the most important issue to consider in the transfer of a series from film to TV is that there is more story left to tell.