The human imagination might just be the most powerful force in the universe. There are no limitations. No rules. If you want to believe something or see something, you merely imagine it in all it’s perceived glory and there it is, perfect as you can make it.
That’s part of what was at the heart of The Magicians Trilogy, a series of books by Lev Grossman about magicians (the Harry Potter kind, not the Las Vegas kind) of our world and their adventures in a Narnia-like world that is more than just a children’s story. It’s a story about coming face-to-face with everything our imagination can dream up and what happens when reality creeps in.
As you might imagine with a story about wizards traveling between worlds to reach a magical realm where animals speak and anything seems possible, the reader’s imagination drives so much of what happens. Not only in how you see the worlds of the story but also the ways in which our heroes work their literal magic. Within your mind, there are no basic cable budgets, so-so performances or iffy CGI effects to limit what’s possible.
In SyFy’s new television show of the same name based on the trilogy, those factors do come into play, not to mention a slew of changes that alter how the story will unfold. The world of The Magicians that exists inside the imaginations of its readers is now one version of the story, and based on the pilot episode of the TV show, it might be best to maintain a healthy distance between the two.
The Magicians, which premieres Monday night at 9e/8c, follows Quentin Coldwater, a detached college senior obsessed with the Narnia-esque land of Fillory from a series of children’s books, who suddenly finds himself enrolled in Brakebills College for Magical Pedagogy studying to become a magician. While making new friends and learning about his newfound world, he learns that Fillory is a real world and that some kind of threat is crossing over into ours.
For viewers who haven’t read the books, the pilot provides a suitable entrance point. We’re introduced to most of the relevant characters and come away with a good sense of how the world we know and the magical world we’ve just been introduced to will intersect. We’re also left with a major tease about the main villain of the series, The Beast.
For readers of the trilogy, however, coming away from the first hour of the TV show without some serious concerns seems impossible. There are changes. Some of those changes are small. Janet is now Margo, as to give the show one less character whose name starts with J. Brakebills is now a graduate school as the characters have been aged up from high school students. Julia’s storyline, which doesn’t really kick in until the second book, is featured from the get-go (a smart decision). It also seems as though the youngest of the Chatwin’s has been excised from the story, most likely so that the show doesn’t have to deal with an aging child actor who is always supposed to stay the same.
None of those changes hurt the story. Most of them have little to no effect at all, really. Readers can choose to be annoyed by them for not matching up with the way things look and feel in their minds but that’s nitpicking.
There are, however, some nits worth picking when it comes to some of the bigger changes.
The one that stands out the most is the change to Quentin himself. When we first meet Quentin in the books, he’s an asshole. An inconsiderate, detached asshole. He’s a cynical, Northeastern American counterbalance to the unwavering virtue of Harry Potter. That might make him sound like the kind of character you don’t want to root for but it’s weirdly not the case. He’s an asshole but he’s our asshole. His journey to becoming someone who cares about other people and is willing to sacrifice for others is the crux of the entire story.
The Quentin we’re introduced to in the TV show is a mopey introvert with social anxiety but who otherwise seems like a really nice guy. On one hand it makes sense in the minds of television writers to make the main character someone worth rooting for from the get-go. However, it also turns Quentin into the kind of generic main character we’re used to seeing in shows such as this. Like Jack in Lost or Rick in The Walking Dead, this version of Quentin seems destined to becoming an uninteresting lead surrounded by much more interesting characters we’d rather get to know.
Brakebills itself is a major character in the books. The look and feel of the school as described Lev Grossman instills a sense of old world classrooms, musty hallways and grounds from another world. While the initial shots of the school in the TV show invoke that to an extent, many of the school interiors are jarringly modern and out of place with the exterior. It’s hard to tell if it was a conscious choice as to rob Brakebills of a sense of time or place or if it was a budgetary concern.
And then there’s The Beast. Without getting too spoiler-y, let’s just say there is a scene in the pilot that ranks up there as one, if not THE best scenes in the book trilogy. The scene where we first meet the villainous Beast is thrilling, frightening, confusing and shocking all at once. It begs to be re-read over and over. That scene plays out towards the end of the episode and, well, it just doesn’t do it any justice.
This brings that whole point about imagination back around. Perhaps that scene never could have lived up to the way it plays out on the page and in our minds, but it’s still sure to leave a sour taste in the mouths of readers. If the show can’t nail that scene, how can we expect them to nail the many CGI-heavy, fantastical scenes to come?
The Magicians has potential. The lead performances are solid. The premise was made to be filmed (as movies preferably, but a TV show will suffice). SyFy is clearly putting effort into backing the show and giving it room to grow. So long as they don’t burn through the plot too quickly (which remains to be seen), there is a strong emotional journey here to mine.
Rather than give advice to the show-runners, it’s probably better to save that advice for viewers who come in with three books full of expectations. Your imagination contains a fantastic version of this story. Rather than bring all of that with you upon viewing, try to conjure a spell that will wipe it from your mind, or at least store it somewhere you can come back to another time. Bringing your expectations with you into this TV show will only frustrate you. If you can set that aside and let this version of the story unfold, the more likely you are to enjoy it. If not, you’ll probably turn yourself into a niffin* by episode 6.
* Non-readers, don’t worry, that’ll make a lot more sense soon enough.
