Bird Box, the horror novel by Josh Malerman, is easily one of my favorite books, and one of the top books I read in 2018. If you recall from my initial review of Bird Box, I actually bumped it way up on my TBR when I found out it was being adapted into a film because I wanted to make absolutely sure I’d read the book before I saw the movie.

And I have no regrets about that, because I loved it so much. However, when you really, really enjoy a book, it usually causes some warring emotions about the upcoming movie adaptation. On one hand, you’re excited, because maybe the book you love will get more attention, and you get to see a creative mind’s interpretation of the material you liked so much. On the other hand, you know the movie probably won’t be as good as the book, you’re worried that the source material will be totally ruined in the process, and if you’re anything like me, you know tons of people are going to try to tell you about this great new movie they saw while they have no idea it’s actually based a book, let alone one of your favorite books.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Either way, I was equal parts excited and very apprehensive about the release of Bird Box the movie.

The movie adaptation is a Netflix original movie starring Sandra Bullock, as well as Trevante Rhodes and John Malkovich (kind of exciting to see some major star power coming to the streaming service). It was written by Eric Heisserer (who also wrote Arrival, which I loved, and Lights Out, which I…didn’t) and directed by Susanne Bier, who had experience with directing book adaptations as one of her previous projects was The Night Manager (starring Tom Hiddleston and adapted from the John Le Carre novel).

So, how does it stack up?

Let me start by saying there are a lot of things this movie did right. I’ll get that out of the way first. For one thing, it was very well acted by a really outstanding cast. I have always loved Sandra Bullock and from her silly romcoms to her much more serious roles, I always think she totally nails it. She’s an incredible actress and did an excellent job, as usual. I thought the rest of the cast did a great job as well, especially Trevante Rhodes as Tom and John Malkovich as Douglas. I also loved that Machine Gun Kelly was in it—I’m not saying he’s going to win an Oscar anytime soon or anything, but I’m admittedly a bit of an MGK fan so I always enjoy seeing him in films. Sue me.

I know a lot of people were really excited to see Sarah Paulson in this one, but I wasn’t over the moon about her role. I guess she’s a decent actress, I think I’ve just been too inundated with her over the years because of so much American Horror Story, so her addition to the cast didn’t do anything for me one way or the other. I was glad she didn’t have a larger role, as much more of her probably would have just annoyed me. I was actually probably more excited to see Danielle Macdonald as Olympia. I didn’t realize that’s who would be playing her, so her appearance caught me off guard. I had actually just watched her as Willowdean Dixon in the Netflix adaptation of the YA novel Dumplin’, so her showing up in a movie that was so, so different from that one caught me off guard.

However, I thought she totally owned the role of Olympia and did an amazing job. In a short amount of time, I saw her in two very different roles, and she did so well in both of them. She’s become one to watch for me; I could see her presence in a movie swaying me into watching it because I’m impressed with her acting. This was one of the very rare cases where I thought the actress in a movie adaptation actually outlived the way I pictured the character in my head.

The other thing that I think this movie did really, really well were the river scenes, which is great because they’re a huge chunk of the movie. Visually, I found the river parts stunning and I loved how they were filmed. I liked the aerial shots, I loved how it looked—the river parts were the one part of the movie that, for me, lived up to what I pictured when reading the book.

One final thing I enjoyed was seeing how the characters did things without sight and how they adapted to their new surroundings—I just wish we could have seen more of it. There was so much material in the book about how they adapted to doing things without being able to see, and it would have been fun to explore on film, but for some reason a lot of that was cut out and we were limited to just a few different things.

And now it’s time to talk about what I didn’t like about the movie, which was almost everything else. Hi, Unpopular-Opinions-R-Us? Are you open? Oh, for you, Samantha? Always. Didn’t you hear? You’re our number one customer.

When it comes down to it, there are actually only two things I don’t like about the movie: one is all the unnecessary expository dialogue (one of my biggest pet peeves, y’all know this). The other is every way it’s different from the book.

Yeah. I’m gonna be that person.

Look, I’m sorry. I know that movie adaptations are going to be different from the books they’re based on. I’ve certainly seen enough of them. I also know that it’s still totally possible to love a movie when it’s super different from the books. I mean, hello, the Harry Potter movies are some of my absolute favorites and don’t even get me started on some of the ridiculous changes they made. I also love the Mortal Instruments movie, partially because it’s such a festival of cheese. And partially because of Jamie Campbell Bower and Lily Collins.

So rest assured, I’m totally capable of liking movies that are different from the books they’re based on.

But with Bird Box, it looks like that’s just not going to be the case.

From the jump, I was annoyed by what felt to me like way too much expository dialogue, and it wasn’t even well done expository dialogue. From someone like Sarah Paulson who I know a lot of people consider to be a really amazing actress (and who I have seen give better performances than this), the huge chunks of exposition just seemed really ham fisted. It was all I could do to make sure my eyes didn’t roll into the back of my head when she was explaining Malorie’s own life to Malorie. I definitely feel like A) there could have been better ways to inject that into the movie and B) we probably didn’t even need to know a lot of the information that they were ham fisting into the script. We still get to know Malorie through her art, through her much more natural conversations with the OB/GYN doctor, and through the more nuanced interactions with her sister, that we didn’t need a lot of the stuff Sarah Paulson was saying about her boyfriend moving out, Malorie not going out much, or about their father/relationship with their parents. There are ways to give info through dialogue without it being so clunky and annoying—like when Malorie and her sister (whose name was changed for the movie for absolutely no apparent reason, I might add) joke around about their dad being on a stud farm, or later when Malorie tells Douglas how he reminds her of her father.

Other than that, most of the things that I disliked about the movie were just all the changes from the book, when the book was fine the way it was and I didn’t feel the changes helped the movie at all. They didn’t serve a purpose, and in fact, they actually hindered it in a lot of ways. So if you were looking for a breakdown of how the movie was different from the book, look no further, friends. We’re about to go in.

So, without further ado, I present to you…

1. The Creatures

So in the movie, the creatures are said to take on the form of your greatest fear, driving you to insanity and making you kill yourself when you lay eyes on them. In the book, however, we never actually know what the creatures look like because, of course, once you see them, you die. So there’s no one who can accurately describe what they look like or convey what it is they’re seeing before they go insane and/or commit suicide. In my opinion, that’s way scarier, because it makes them much more of a mystery and it’s a lot scarier to fear something when you’re not even sure what it is you’re afraid of, or what it is that you have to avoid. I also thought the idea of it taking on your biggest fear made it seem a bit cheesy/overdone, like with the lady who says, “Mom?” at the beginning and starts walking toward something the rest of us can’t see. The way it was portrayed made it seem as if they were these invisible monsters and were turning people into zombies or something. This change really didn’t translate for me, and, as Sarah Hawkinson pointed out on her horror review channel on YouTube, actually brings to mind the boggart from Harry Potter, so it’s not a very original idea. It’s also not dissimilar to the concept of It, so the idea of something taking on the form of your worst fear has not only been done a lot before, it also just doesn’t seem as scary as not knowing what we are running from. Plus, it has logistical issues. Like, why would seeing the thing you’re the most afraid of in the world automatically make you kill yourself? Isn’t it possible you could just see it and—be really scared?

2. The Romance Element

It seems every single thing these days has to have a romance element added to it, even if the source material didn’t have it, and Bird Box is no exception. I can kind of see why writers are inclined to do this—I myself am a hopeless romantic, and most of the time find myself injecting some element or romance or relationships into my own writing. But does absolutely every single thing need it? Probably not, and this is one time where I’m not sure that adding it really had any benefits at all. In the movie, Tom and Malorie have a flirtatious and then eventually romantic partnership of some sort, whereas in the book, there’s no such thing—not even an inkling of sexual tension between the two of them. Despite the fact that I think Trevante Rhodes did a great job portraying Tom with the material he was working with, I liked Tom’s role in the book much better. I really liked how in the book he was this overarching patriarchal figure for all the members of the household, and was always the one they could look to for help and guidance. Of course, we still see some of this in his role in the movie—he’s the unspoken leader for the most part, and Malorie and Olympia still automatically assume he will be the one to deliver their babies—but there’s less emphasis on that and more on his romantic connection to Malorie.

In my opinion, his patriarchal role was much more important and made his loss hit that much harder, as he was so important to everyone in the house. The only thing I can think of is that the writers changed it because for many of us, the thought of losing a boyfriend or girlfriend or significant other is much sadder than the thought of losing someone we don’t know as well. This may have also been the reason for the addition of the character Lucy, who didn’t exist at all in the book and seemed to have been added for the sole purpose of giving Felix someone to have a romantic/sexual relationship with. We see a moment of tension when Lucy leaves to get supplies and Felix stays behind and then they’re reunited and he’s happy to see her return safely, which is the only thing that leads me to believe the romance elements may have been added in an effort to have more impact on the viewer. Because other than that, I can’t come up with any reason for the change.

And speaking of Tom and Malorie’s relationship…

3. Tom’s Death

I’m not sure why the movie version chose to keep Tom alive for an extra five years over the book version. In the book, Tom dies the day Malorie and Olympia give birth to their babies—just like everyone else. Again, did they keep him alive solely for the sake of his and Malorie’s romantic relationship? If so, why not explore that further? All we do is get a “five years later” flash forward, where we see a few seconds of them together with the kids before he gets killed. Also, how did they not accidentally create more kids over those five years? Did they loot a pharmacy for prophylactics? I guess we could assume that, but still—if you’re going to keep him alive for that much longer than he lived in the book, I have questions. A lot of them.

But mainly, I didn’t like this change because I thought that having Tom die along with everyone else makes it much scarier. And isn’t that what we want? Having Tom and every other person Malorie was living with die makes it so that for the next five years, it’s just Malorie and two babies. Malorie. All alone. Raising two children. Who can’t look at the outside world or they’ll die. I mean just saying that is terrifying. Making it so that she had a partner in crime up until a few days before she leaves on the river just entirely changes the dynamics, as well as her motivation.

And speaking of which…

4. The Phones

Do you see this cover? This is the original US cover of Bird Box. Not the movie tie-in edition, or the UK edition, which is the one I have with the images of birds on it. That means for most US readers, this is the cover they were seeing the most. The one with a phone on it. It was the kind of cover that made you look at the title, and then look at the description of the book, and think, hmm, I’m curious about how this ties in and why they chose this as the cover. And damn, that is a good picture.

If you saw that cover and then watched the movie without reading the book, you would have literally no idea and think that the designers involved in this project just chose a random object to put on the cover. But actually, the phones play a huge, huge role in the overall plot of Bird Box, and the way this was changed was one of the biggest disappointments in the film version.

In the book, after the apocalyptic events began, the landlines still functioned for quite a long time. As part of their survival efforts, one of the things they (primarily Tom) did was make constant phone calls in an effort to reach other survivors and establish some sort of network or community. At one point, Tom mentions that they have officially called every single number in the phonebook. And while at first it seems futile, it’s Tom’s phone calls that eventually save Malorie and bring us to the river scenes. On the day she gives birth and everyone else dies, someone finally calls back. The person tells her that Tom left a message, and he tells her where they are and about how to get there via the river. But the scenes we see in the movie, where he is talking to them on the radio and randomly asks, “Do you have children? Because you won’t be able to make the journey with children,” actually make a lot more sense in the book, because he hears the newborn babies crying, and tells Malorie she will never be able to make the journey on the river with babies. Shortly after this, the phone lines finally go dead, cutting off any possible contact with the outside world.

Which means—yes, people—Malorie waits. For five years. Alone. Before she makes that journey. And the period between when she gets that phone call and when she leaves on the river are so tense, because she spends that time raising her children, making sure the three of them survive, and basically doing nothing but preparing them for the journey and preparing them to survive without sight. In the movie, we miss out on some horrific but really impactful inner dialogue that Malorie has about possibly just blinding the children when they are newborn infants because she thinks it might be the best thing to do to protect them and keep them alive. And that makes sense. It’s a really interesting thread that we don’t get to follow at all in the movie.

This five year wait between the phone call and the journey mean that in the book, when Malorie is risking her life and her children’s lives on the river, she doesn’t even know for sure that the person who called her is still alive, or that the place he talked to her about even still exists or is safe. She’s just desperate to make an attempt at a better life and be around other humans again. Obviously, this means tensions are a hell of a lot higher during that river journey—and they were already pretty tense in the movie. The removal of the phones and the whole plot point tied to the phones was detrimental to the tension and horror of what was actually happening, and I hated that they changed it.

5. The Dogs

Okay, I’ll level with you—I don’t entirely hate this change. In the book, one of the characters, Julian, had a dog named Victor. Victor was as much a part of the household as Cheryl or Felix or any of the other characters, and in fact, became a useful tool and helper in navigating the world and protecting them. Seeing that Victor could possibly be useful, Julian even goes out and searches for other dogs that may have been left alone when their owners died, and they ended up having Victor and two huskies in the house with them.

Now, I think this was an interesting part of the book because I liked the innovation behind it, and the way the characters had to think outside the box and use what few resources they had in order to adapt to their sightless world and try to live life in a different way.

However, Victor’s end is gruesome and traumatizing, so I’ll be real—I’m glad we didn’t have to see that brought to life in the movie version. Y’all already know from my review of My Best Friend’s Exorcism that I think killing the dog is like the Cardinal Sin of horror books/movies.

And speaking of animals…

6. The Birds

I mean, it’s called Bird Box. The literal title is Bird Box. And yet I felt like they only stuck the birds in a box when they were traveling on the river so they could justify keeping the title Bird Box even after changing so much from the book to the movie. I spent the whole beginning of the movie asking myself where the birds were and then Malorie—finds some parakeets in a grocery store? (Don’t come for me if they’re not parakeets—I’m not a bird expert. The point is, they’re some kind of pet bird, and I have no idea why they would be in a grocery store.)

In the book, they literally put pigeons in a box outside the door in order to serve as a rudimentary alarm system and warn them of danger getting too close to the house. It was literally. A box full of birds. And it was indicative of the creative yet primitive methods they had to adopt in order to keep themselves alive.

But, yeah, sure, a cage full of parakeets, I guess.

7. George’s Death & the Unfolding of the Apocalypse

I’ll put these two together since they’re somewhat related. I liked the way everyone came to be gathered at George’s house better the way it was portrayed in the book. In the book, George was sort of an innovator during the apocalypse, which happened much more slowly than it did in the movie. In the movie, basically the shit hits the fan all at once one day and everyone frantically gathers at this one house because they all sort of happen to be in the area, and George happens to be home. But since things happened much more gradually in the book, people had time to get ready. As a bit of an innovator and someone who rose to the challenge of an apocalypse early on, George had been placing ads in the paper inviting people to live in his home as a sort of post-apocalyptic commune, which is almost exactly what it ended up being. However, by the time Malorie and Olympia join the crew, George is already dead. The way he died is similar to the way he died in the movie, but in the book, it ties in more to the fact that he was trying to innovate and come up with different ways that they could exist in the world without sight and possibly fight back against the creatures. His death is what ended up leaving Tom as the one who was kind of in charge and led to him being notched into his trademark patriarchal role. I can see why they made these changes—for once—but I feel differently about them. I think having George die on screen was definitely more impactful, especially seeing Malorie’s intense reaction to it. So it may not have been the worst change to make. However, I liked having the apocalypse unfold more slowly much better than the way it was done in the movie. It just seemed more realistic and more scary as you kind of feel something creeping in and feel helpless to do anything about it.

While there are some other changes between the book and the movie, these are the biggest ones that I felt actually changed the content and the feeling so, so much. Is it a bad movie? No, probably not. Again, it’s well acted, and it’s pretty spooky, largely because the concept of not being able to see what it is that could kill you and having to live your life sightless is really spooky. But this is one of those cases where I just don’t feel it did justice to the book at all. Really. At all. We all know the book is always better, but this is one case where the book is just way, way better.

Seeing how people have reacted to this movie and even hearing family members who haven’t read the book (or didn’t even know it was a book *glares*) talk about it over the holidays, I really feel that I would have liked it a lot better if I hadn’t ever read the book. But since I have, I find it really hard to separate the two. As with most book to movie adaptations, it’s definitely better to just view it as its own separate thing, but that’s difficult for me in this case. I think I may just be way too attached to the book to be able to view the film as a standalone work.

It’s similar to how I felt about Ready Player One. Yeah, it was a stunning movie. No one’s debating that. It just doesn’t even hold a candle to the book. Not even one of those little tea light candles.

But more annoying than changing everything good about the book to something nonsensical for the movie are the people who don’t even realize it was a book. If I hear one more person say, “Oh, this was based on a book?” I’m going to scream. I’m going to scream so loud that the monsters from A Quiet Place will come and get us and I can use that as an excuse to tell people to stop saying that Bird Box is “Netflix’s version of A Quiet Place” or “A Quiet Place with sight”. On the contrary, A Quiet Place is Bird Box with sound. Because Bird Box was a book way before A Quiet Place was a movie, and people claiming Bird Box ripped off A Quiet Place drive me insane. Like, more insane than I already am.

So there we have it. All my grievances. There’s a solid chance that no one will read this, and I get it. It’s long, and it’s kind of a lot of bitching. But these are my feelings about the movie and I had to get it out there, or I was going to explode and just start yelling a list of reasons the book was better at a complete stranger.

Before I wrap it up, I’ll just leave you with some sage words of advice. And if it seems like I’m being a bit aggressive about this, it’s because I am:

READ. THE DAMN. BOOK.