Margaret Atwood Reveals Her Discontent With the 1990 Film Adaptation

A Critical Look at the First Adaptation

Long before the Hulu series brought the chilling Republic of Gilead to a global audience, Margaret Atwood’s seminal novel The Handmaid’s Tale was first adapted for the screen in a 1990 feature film. In subsequent interviews and discussions, Atwood has made it clear that the film, directed by Volker Schlöndorff from a screenplay by Nobel laureate Harold Pinter, diverged from her vision in ways that fundamentally altered her story. The author’s primary objection centers on the movie’s climax, which deviates significantly from the book’s famously ambiguous ending.

In the novel, the protagonist Offred is taken away by figures who might be saviors from the Mayday resistance or agents of the state leading her to her doom; the reader is left uncertain of her fate. The film dispensed with this ambiguity entirely. In its third act, Natasha Richardson’s Offred stabs and kills the Commander, played by Robert Duvall, before being escorted to safety by Nick. For Atwood, this creative choice transformed her character’s journey from one of psychological endurance and survival into a more conventional revenge narrative.

Atwood has expressed that while she understands the cinematic impulse for a more definitive conclusion, she felt it undermined the novel’s central theme of uncertainty and the nature of historical record. The book's epilogue, a transcript from a future academic symposium, frames Offred's entire story as a historical account pieced together from tapes, underscoring the ambiguity of her final moments. The film’s concrete, violent resolution offered a sense of closure that Atwood’s original text deliberately withheld, a choice she viewed as a significant misinterpretation of the source material.

The Prestige Production That Missed the Mark

The 1990 adaptation was, on paper, a prestige project. Director Volker Schlöndorff was an Academy Award winner for The Tin Drum, and screenwriter Harold Pinter was one of the most celebrated playwrights of the 20th century. The cast was equally formidable, featuring Natasha Richardson, Faye Dunaway as Serena Joy, and Robert Duvall as the Commander. Despite this collection of talent, the film failed to connect with either critics or audiences in a lasting way.

Upon its release, the film received a tepid critical reception. Reviewers were divided, with some praising the performances but many finding the film’s tone uneven and its depiction of Gilead’s oppressive society lacking the novel's subtle horror. Commercially, it was a disappointment. According to box office figures, the film grossed approximately $4.9 million in the United States against a reported production budget of $13 million. It was neither a financial success nor the cultural conversation starter that its source material suggested it could be.

Part of the issue stemmed from creative tensions during production. Pinter's original screenplay was reportedly altered significantly, leading him to publicly distance himself from the final product. The condensed runtime of a feature film also proved challenging, forcing the filmmakers to streamline a complex world and a deeply interior narrative. The result was an adaptation that, while visually striking, struggled to capture the psychological depth and speculative dread that made Atwood's novel a literary classic.

A Tale of Two Adaptations

The lukewarm reception of the 1990 film stands in stark contrast to the success of the Hulu series, which premiered in 2017. The episodic, long-form structure of television provided an ideal canvas for a story as dense and layered as The Handmaid’s Tale. It allowed showrunner Bruce Miller and his team the time to meticulously build the world of Gilead, explore the backstories of its characters through flashbacks, and, most importantly, remain faithful to the novel's introspective and often claustrophobic point of view.

Crucially, Margaret Atwood’s involvement differed dramatically between the two projects. For the 1990 film, her role was largely that of an author who had sold the rights to her work. For the Hulu series, she has served as a consulting producer since its inception. This position has allowed her to provide direct creative input, ensuring the adaptation remains true to the spirit of her novel even as it expands upon it. Her guidance has been instrumental in shaping the series' direction, including the development of its acclaimed sequel, The Testaments, which is also being adapted.

This direct involvement has seemingly given Atwood a sense of ownership and satisfaction that was absent with the first adaptation. The Hulu series has not only achieved widespread critical acclaim and numerous awards but has also become a cultural touchstone, with the handmaids' red robes and white bonnets becoming global symbols of protest. It achieved the cultural resonance the 1990 film aspired to but could not grasp, demonstrating the power of the right medium and creative alignment.

The Author's Lasting Influence

The history of these two adaptations provides a compelling case study in the relationship between an author and the screen versions of their work. The 1990 film serves as a cautionary tale, illustrating how even a team of highly respected artists can miss the essence of a source material if their vision diverges from the author's core intent. Atwood’s critiques highlight a common tension in Hollywood between the literary roots of a story and the commercial demands of filmmaking.

By contrast, the success of the Hulu series demonstrates the value of including the original creator in the adaptive process. Atwood’s continued role has helped the show navigate the expansion of her universe beyond the novel's original scope, lending authenticity to new characters and plotlines. Her public championing of the series, compared to her measured critique of the film, speaks volumes about the different creative experiences.

Ultimately, Atwood's reflections on the 1990 film are not merely complaints about an old movie. They are a defense of her artistic choices and a clear articulation of what she believes makes her story potent. The film remains an interesting, if flawed, artifact from a different era of adaptation, while the television series, developed in close partnership with Atwood, stands as the definitive screen version of her enduring and unnervingly relevant vision of Gilead.