Apple chokes on the devil's candy, spews out its Bonfire Of The Vanities TV show

The adaptation of Tom Wolfe's 1980s bestseller is being developed by The Batman's Matt Reeves and veteran TV hitmaker David E. Kelley.

Apple chokes on the devil's candy, spews out its Bonfire Of The Vanities TV show

A couple of months back, Apple revealed that it was setting itself an incredibly difficult adaptational task: A TV spin on Tom Wolfe’s 1987 satirical novel The Bonfire Of The Vanities, a book that had previously (and disastrously) defeated would-be adaptor Brian De Palma in the early ’90s, an effort exhaustively chronicled in Julie Salamon’s excellent making-of book The Devil’s Candy. Sure, the pedigree the tech giant was tapping for this new version was solid, with TV hit machine David E. Kelley teaming up with The Batman‘s Matt Reeves for a new version of Wolfe’s tale of privilege, race, sensation, and scandal in 1980s New York. But the results have, ultimately, fared no better than past attempts to sell Tom Hanks as a self-described Wall Street “master of the universe.”

This is per Deadline, which reports that Apple’s version of the show has now gotten the axe at the streamer, after “months of development.” Although it doesn’t go into details, the report offers up that “the parties were not creatively aligned,” and specifically notes that Kelley (whose recent TV successes include Apple’s own Margo’s Got Money Troubles) “was not happy” about the handling of the project. The series, which is being made at Warner Bros. Television, is reportedly being shopped to other buyers, with Reeves still on board to direct while Kelley will write. 

They face a daunting challenge. Wolfe’s bestseller has been held up as one of the quintessential ’80s novels, but also one of the decade’s least-filmable, a wide-ranging, irony-laced look at a New York simmering with tensions that explode when white stockbroker Sherman McCoy and his mistress Maria injure a young Black boy in a hit-and-run incident. Wolfe’s novel hit with audiences in part because it took no prisoners in its depiction of the vast array of people looking to profit from the ensuing court case; De Palma’s movie floundered on about a dozen different axes, but its casting—and, specifically, the inability of Hanks, Melanie Griffith, and Bruce Willis to match either the inner depths or shallownesses of Wolfe’s expertly drawn assholes—usually comes in for a lion’s share of the blame. 

 
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