Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels has captivated audiences for centuries, initially appearing in 1726, and its journey through various adaptations is quite remarkable. My first encounter was as a child with the 1939 Fleischer Studios animated film, a cartoon from Disney’s competitor, which, like many, only scratched the surface by depicting the voyages to Lilliput and Brobdingnag. It wasn’t until later that I grasped the satirical depth of Swift’s work, a nuance often lost in adaptations aimed at younger viewers. Among the adaptations I’ve seen, Sean Kenny’s theatrical production at the Mermaid Theatre stands out as truly exceptional, ingeniously encompassing all four voyages and capturing the intellectual spirit of the book.
However, when it comes to 2010 Gulliver’s Travels, directed by Rob Letterman, the adaptation takes a decidedly different turn. This version reimagines Lemuel Gulliver, not as an 18th-century surgeon, but as a 21st-century mailroom clerk at the New York Herald, played by Jack Black. This contemporary Gulliver, stuck in a dead-end job for a decade, suddenly aspires to more and fabricates travel articles – essentially plagiarizing from Time Out New York – to secure a travel assignment to the Bermuda Triangle. This sets the stage for him to be washed ashore in Lilliput, a kingdom reminiscent of Ruritanian settings, ruled by King Theodore (Billy Connolly) and Queen Isabelle (Catherine Tate).
In this 2010 rendition of Gulliver’s Travels, the satirical bite of Swift’s original work is significantly diluted, replaced with slapstick humor and predictable plotlines. Gulliver, now a giant among the Lilliputians, navigates through predictable scenarios. A brief venture into Brobdingnag, populated by a single giant child, feels underdeveloped. The narrative includes a battle sequence with a rogue general, vaguely echoing action films like Robocop and Iron Man, and culminates in Gulliver imparting the wisdom of rock’n’roll to the tiny inhabitants. The humor feels anachronistic and often falls flat, exemplified by a throwaway joke about a new mailroom employee born in 1990, eliciting Gulliver’s incredulous response: “Nobody was born that late.”
While the 2010 movie Gulliver’s Travels may offer some light entertainment for undemanding audiences, it largely misses the satirical heart of Swift’s masterpiece. It reduces a complex narrative to a series of predictable comedic set pieces, leveraging Jack Black’s persona as an “all-purpose slob and loser” for easy laughs. For those seeking a faithful or intellectually stimulating adaptation of Gulliver’s Travels, the 2010 version may prove disappointing, especially when compared to more thoughtful interpretations like Kenny’s stage production or even elements of the animated Fleischer version which, despite its simplifications, arguably retained more of the original’s spirit than this modern, comedic take. The 2010 Gulliver’s Travels movie, therefore, serves as a reminder of how challenging it is to translate satire effectively to a contemporary, mainstream film format without sacrificing its critical edge.
