I even knew some of the dialogue but it was definitely cool to

In the vast theater of creation, there exists a profound tension between loyalty to the original vision and the need to reimagine for the future. Todd McFarlane’s words, "I even knew some of the dialogue but it was definitely cool to look at. We always argue that the movies should be loyal but in this case I could argue that it might have been too loyal," speaks to a delicate balance, one that echoes the eternal struggle between the past and the present. It is a battle not merely of what we know, but of how we breathe life into the familiar to create something new, something that resonates with the present age.

The world of creation—whether through art, literature, or cinema—is bound by the chains of fidelity to the source material. Yet, as the great sculptors of ancient Greece knew, to create is not simply to copy the form but to breathe life into it. A statue is not merely a stone, but the living embodiment of the artist’s vision. So too, the retelling of a story is not merely the repetition of old words but a transformation—a process of channeling the spirit of the past into the form that fits the present. McFarlane’s statement touches on this eternal conflict: is it better to remain faithful to the original, or should we reimagine it to speak to new generations?

Consider the tale of Homer, whose epic poetry, the Iliad and the Odyssey, were passed down through generations. In his time, the words were faithful to the stories of old—yet it was the interpretations of these works by countless others that kept the essence alive. From the ancient Greeks to the Romans, from the Renaissance scholars to modern poets, each new retelling was not a mere reproduction, but an act of reimagining, of adapting these timeless stories to speak to the concerns of their era. The faithfulness to the story remained, but the expression evolved. McFarlane’s words reflect this same idea: sometimes, loyalty to the original can stifle the power of the story itself.

Indeed, the history of cinema offers many lessons in this balance. Take the adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings". The books are revered for their depth, but the films, while maintaining a reverence to the original material, introduced new interpretations to make them resonate with a modern audience. The question then arises: how loyal should adaptations be? In McFarlane’s eyes, a film might fail if it is too loyal—focusing too much on preserving every detail without considering how it will speak to the contemporary viewer. Loyalty, in this sense, can be a shackling force that keeps the story from soaring.

However, to abandon loyalty altogether is to risk losing the essence of the original creation. The wisdom of the ancients teaches us that the core of a story is sacred, but its form is ever-changing. Think of the Buddha’s teachings, which, though passed down through centuries, have been interpreted and adapted by countless cultures. The essence of the Buddha’s wisdom remains the same, but the expression of that wisdom is molded by the times, by the language, and by the hearts of those who receive it. In the same way, adaptations of stories and ideas should remain faithful to the core message, while allowing the expression of that message to evolve.

The true wisdom lies in knowing when to be faithful and when to innovate. Too much loyalty can freeze the story in time, just as too much innovation can sever the connection to its roots. The art of creation, then, is in finding that balance—knowing when to embrace the past and when to look to the future. This is a delicate dance, one that requires not only knowledge of the original work but a deep understanding of the present moment, of the people, and of the world it speaks to.

The lesson to be drawn from McFarlane’s reflection is this: in every creation, we must honor the past, but we must also make room for the future. If we hold too tightly to what has been, we risk stifling the growth of what could be. But if we let go too easily, we may lose the wisdom that came before us. The challenge, then, is to create with both honor and freedom, to remain loyal to the essence while being bold enough to shape the form anew. Just as the ancients sought to bridge the past and the future, so too must we find our own way of doing so in all our creations.