Netflix's "A Series of Unfortunate Events" succeeds where the film failed

Anyone who grew up in the early noughties will remember A Series of Unfortunate Events, the children's book series by lugubrious author "Lemony Snicket" (pen-name of Daniel Handler). Narrated by Snicket, the 13 books documented the lives of orphans Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire as they became subject to endless misery following the deaths of their parents in a fire. This seemed a strange premise for a children’s series, but the books were instantly popular. Since the release of the first instalment in 1999, the series has sold over 65m copies, and has been translated into 41 languages. In 2002 it was reported by the Times Online that the books had helped a number of bereaved children cope with grief following the 9/11 attacks. Snicket’s use of irony, dark humour and twisted optimism was comforting. It made unfortunate events—and the unfortunate world which had allowed them to happen—easier for children to process.

The lacklustre 2004 film adaptation, directed by Brad Silberling, therefore came as a huge disappointment. Everything that had made Snicket's books original and entertaining—the dry wit, the literary nods, the risqué jokes—was removed, and in its place left a flattened Hollywood cut-out, with thin dialogue and a pretty boring plot. Not even a glittering cast including Jim Carrey and Meryl Streep could salvage the film. It failed to take off at the box office, and planned sequels were cancelled.

Thankfully, however, Netflix's new television series (A Series of Unfortunate Events) has done a much better job. With a screenplay by Snicket himself, the show is wittier, more evenly paced, and visually slicker than the film. The cinematography is also brilliant. Riffing on Brett Hellquist’s illustrations, the world of the Baudelaires is part-Wes Anderson, with twee twinsets and pastel colours, and part-dreamworld dystopia, with distorted gothic turrets and grey skies. The overall effect is that we are witnessing a brutal adult world from a child’s perspective.

Another nice detail is the characterisation of Snicket. Played by Patrick Warburton, Snicket opens each episode by warning us not to watch any further. Warburton's dry, gloomy delivery is a faithful interpretation of the book's narrator, and his deadpan asides to-camera create a noir feel. (The lyrics of the opening theme song also complement Snicket’s attempts to dissuade us from watching: "Look away, look away, this show will wreck your evening, your whole life and your day.")

One of the joys of the original Series books was Snicket’s use of literary play. As one critic put it in 2000, he used “formal, Latinate language to hilarious effect, even for readers unfamiliar with the literary conventions he was parodying.” The books were also notably good at teaching interesting words—the third instalment is called The Ersatz Elevator—and the Netflix series continues this tradition. When an odd word is introduced, a patronising adult will give the definition. A chirpy train porter quips, for example: "Festive means fun!", to which the know-it-all Baudelaires roll their eyes. "We know what festive means," Klaus huffs.

There are some things, however, that the Baudelaires do not understand. Early in the first episode, before the deaths of their parents has occurred, Klaus quotes Marcel Proust. “Excuse me Violet,” he says to his sister, grasping the tome, “I don’t understand this quote: ‘Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.’” Violet shrugs. "Check the translation?” she offers. At this point, the rich-kid Baudelaires know nothing about grief. The irony is not only that they soon will, but that the entire premise of A Series of Unfortunate Events hinges on this maxim. It is this kind of detail that makes the show enjoyable watching for adults, children, and nostalgic in-betweeners alike.

Released on Friday 13^th, it seems an appropriate moment—and a strangely comforting one—to watch a show like A Series of Unfortunate Events. At the centre of the story is Count Olaf, after all. Here played by Neil Patrick Harris, Olaf is a talentless money-grubber who somehow, using clumsy improvisation techniques, manages to fool everyone and take control. In a topsy-turvy world, the underlying message in A Series of Unfortunate Events is that ultimately, everything is manageable. In the face of relentless adversity, the Baudelaires find a way to keep going.