Before watching the Netflix’s Witcher, you should ask yourself – what exactly do you expect from this series? Are you crazy enough to require a good adaptation of the material that cannot be easily translated, and its mocking intentions often diverge from the understanding of the Sunday fantasy reader? Or maybe you have been the victims of hype and belief that the new Netflix’s series will become the spiritual heir of Game of Thrones? Or did you simply wanted to have a good time in front of the screen?
Give up all the hope you, who wanted a solid film adaptation of the world created by Andrzej Sapkowski. Stories and books about the witcher were written as a fantastic pulp, as a pastiche. When I think of the world from The Witcher, I often remember the scene with the halflings (Hofmeier clan) defending their farm in Time of Contempt. This is an obvious travesty of the description of the hobbits from The Lord of the Rings. Here, calm, cheerful characters turn out to be aggressive, bloody killers in an emergency situation. There are, of course, more examples, because the whole idea of creating the world of The Witcher books was based on a simple inversion, processing the common patterns of world fantasy. It was based on a simple play.
In this sense, the Netflix’s series is closer to video games because it treats the source material with the stiff self-confidence of someone who does not catch Sapkowski’s gruff posing – apart from the basic situational humor (which is realized in slapstick elements and better or worse timed bon mots known from books). It is also quite conservative. What I mean here is that the adaptive potential of books lay in the vision of a world of Us colliding with the Other. Is it only me who has the impression that the saga about the witcher could be an excellent commentary[1] on the modern world and the human condition (e.g. refugee crisis – people’s relationship with older races: elves, dwarves, halflings, etc.)? What is left if one deprived the books of the context – a pure, non-reflective action flowered with a mixed chronology.
Let’s face it, there is a huge quality gap between The Witcher and Game of Thrones, since we have to compare these two productions with each other. But that’s not the point. Netflix’s production had a chance to bypass the trap that HBO eventually fell into – the trap of classic fantasy. Although some elements are creative (e.g. dwarves who are not bearded mountains of male meat, “non-white-centricity”, or positive – when it comes to empowering women – overtones of the story of Yennefer), it seems that the series lacked the determination to break the ossified patterns.
I think the best strategy for watching The
Witcher is to expect nothing. At the basic level of potboil entertainment,
the series fulfills its task. If we are ready to turn a blind eye (considering the
critics’ and viewers’ high marks, it looks like most of us are – for good or
bad) and not pay attention to how much witcher is in The Witcher, maybe we will even have a good time.
[1] Nor would it be appropriated by unpunished incels, who replace the basic intellectual effort with a disgusting croak.
