Adapting high literature for the screen comes with a barrage of challenges, not the least of which is appeasing the pseudo-intellectual English majors who will automatically snub the film upon merely hearing of its existence. But great books are especially tricky to turn into great movies even when you take the snobs out of the picture. How do you transform great writing, so much of which depends on well-crafted prose and deeply internal narration? You can't just slap voice-over on top of bare reimaginings of classic scenes or you'll get a clumsy, disjointed mess that only kind of makes sense to people who have read the book--and even then, it'll make them wish they had just saved the price of the movie ticket. You've got to create a wholly independent and quality piece of cinema drawn from the original text that will do justice to the book's tones and themes without being a lazily-condensed cluster of imagery and forced dialogue.
The internet can serve as a museum, preserving digital artifacts that allow us to reminisce about previous eras. The days of blinking text and flashing .gif details seem like ancient history now in the age of Flash websites and embedded streaming video, even though the first round of poor web design emerged barely a decade ago. The Wayback Machine is an awesome way to browse sites as they were years ago, but some websites simply sit without updates for years. Promotional sites for movies are especially prone to being hosted long past their time.