When producer John Wells received an early copy of Janet Fitch's novel, White Oleander, he read it in one night and immediately optioned the film rights. A renowned writer and director as well as a producer and one of the creative forces behind ER, The West Wing and Third Watch,  Wells was impressed by how the story illustrates a universal theme about growing up, weathering the myriad experiences that help define us as individuals and establish an identity apart from our parents.

A third-generation resident of Los Angeles, Janet Fitch graduated from Reed College in Portland, Oregon, majoring in history. She briefly attended film school in the Director's Program at the University of Southern California. She went on to edit a weekly newspaper in south-western Colorado and served as the managing editor of American Film magazine. She has worked as a typesetter, a freelance journalist and editor. Her fiction has appeared in such literary publications as A Room of One's Own, Black Warrior Review and Rain City Review. She is the author of a young adult novel, Kicks, and teaches writing through the UCLA Writing Program, Cal State Fullerton, and privately in the Los Angeles area.

"The characters were beautifully drawn," comments Wells, "It's an extraordinarily well-written book with indelible characters and a very uplifting message. I found myself fully involved in Astrid's journey. Whether or not we experience the kind of adversity that Astrid encounters, one way or another this is a passage we must all navigate as adolescents," says Wells. "Part of becoming an adult is the realisation that our parents have a great many of their own failings and frustrations, that they are human and not omnipotent. Their love, though genuine, may be as imperfect as they are, and we have to accept that for what it is if we're to move forward."

Producer Hunt Lowry felt a similar strong reaction to White Oleander. Having read the script one evening, he was on the phone the next morning to arrange a meeting with Wells to discuss moving forward with the project. A man who receives countless scripts and proposals, Lowry trusts his instincts in selecting projects to produce and often bases his decision on how much he is "genuinely and emotionally moved, in a positive way" by the material. "What sets a story like White Oleander apart," Lowry explains, "is that while I'm reading it I can forget that I'm reading a script or watching a movie because I become so immersed in the story itself."

Within two weeks of its publication, White Oleander was chosen by Oprah Winfrey as the May 1999 selection for her book club and it rose to top-five positions on the best-seller lists of newspapers around the country including The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Washington Post and USA Today. The book touched readers who identified with its life-affirming message. As of August 2002, there are more than 1.5 million copies in print. White Oleander has also become an international success, appearing on best-seller lists in the U.K. and Holland, with rights sold in 25 countries.

To translate the much-admired novel into a compelling screenplay without compromising the narrative or the characters, Wells enlisted Mary Agnes Donoghue, whose screenwriting credits include Deceived, Paradise and the soulful adaptation of Iris Rainer Dart's novel for Beaches. The intention was to present the story as fully as possible, allowing for the time constraints of film.

"We didn't acquire the book with the intention of using just a piece of it and extrapolating from that into something else," Wells explains. "We liked the story in whole and wanted to make as faithful an adaptation as possible, knowing that we'd have to reduce the scope of it. Readers will notice that we had to condense some of the episodes. Mary Agnes did an excellent job of making selections from the book and then Janet read her draft and provided some very helpful notes."

Lowry, whose recent producing credits include the successful screen versions of two very popular novels, A Walk to Remember and Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, emphasises the sensitivity with which the filmmakers approached their task: "When you're working with a book that a great many people already know and love, there's a tremendous obligation to do it justice. It puts more pressure on us, certainly, but it's a valuable kind of pressure because it produces the best results."

Ultimately, a screenplay was developed that had the author's complete approval - a rare occurrence, since novelists are often excluded from the development and production process. "I was fully prepared to put the book into their hands and just hope for the best," says Fitch, "because other writers had told me that's what I should expect. So I was surprised and thrilled when they invited me to read the script and later to attend the first read-through once the cast had been assembled.

"What a pleasure it was," she says of the experience, "to hear those words being said by people who would bring these characters to life, characters that I had lived with for four years and who had previously only existed in my own mind. It was like stepping into a dream."

While the screenplay was being prepared and Wells was still considering how to adapt the story visually, a friend sent him a tape of Warriors, an award-winning 1999 BBC miniseries about peacekeepers in Bosnia, directed by Peter Kosminsky. Impressed by the director's deft and sensitive handling of the difficult subject and his ability to weave together narrative threads from multiple points of view, Wells felt that Kosminsky had precisely the right sensibility for White Oleander. "This is exactly what we need," Wells recalls thinking, "someone who can work with characters in a real and restrained manner while sacrificing none of the honest emotion and never slipping into melodrama."

Kosminsky, who lives and works in England, was originally reluctant to accept the project when Wells approached him, as his schedule was already full and a Los Angeles shoot would mean time away from his family. He was, he recalls, "in the middle of a run of films I was making in Britain, with one project in particular pretty much set to go when I read the script." Having read the script, he then read the novel and found that he "simply could not resist it. I was incredibly moved by the story of this young woman and her voyage."

Although Astrid's experiences in various foster homes propel her development as an individual, it was never the intention of Janet Fitch nor the filmmakers for White Oleander to be an exposé of the foster care system. Kosminsky understood this implicitly and that was another reason why Wells was convinced that he was the right director for the project. "Some people automatically assume it's an indictment of the foster care system but that's not what the book is about," says Wells.

"It's about how a young person, no matter the circumstances, can find his or her own identity and emerge from the shadow of a very powerful parent. The foster homes are just the setting for this metamorphosis. As it happens, it's Astrid's bad luck to fall into a series of placements that are far from ideal.

"What emerged in my initial conversation with Peter was that he grasped the meaning immediately," Wells continues. "He knew it was essentially about the relationship between a mother and daughter and about growing up."

Lowry concurs, adding that his first meeting with Kosminsky left no doubt that the director "understood the arc of this young woman's journey and all that it entailed; every nuance, ordeal, conflict."

As Kosminsky describes it, "Here is a girl who spent her entire childhood walking on eggshells, living with a wonderful, charismatic but completely capricious, selfish and destructive mother. Ingrid is difficult and unpredictable. At her best she is a gifted artist as well as a perceptive, loving and utterly charming presence. But she's not always at her best. As a child, I imagine Astrid would always be holding her breath, never sure what her mother's mood would be on any given day or how she might react to things. 

"With no real friends her own age," Kosminsky continues, "Astrid sits on the edge of adult society, observing and sketching what she sees on a drawing pad. She idolises her mother, who has raised her single-handedly. Ingrid is fond of saying that they are descendant of Vikings and Astrid imagines the two of them as Viking warriors, a united force against the world. Then, reality intrudes in a most dramatic way. Her mother is snatched away from her in an instant and she's left to fend for herself in a very hostile world."

As Astrid is placed in each new foster home in the years following Ingrid's incarceration, Kosminsky observes that initially she continues to behave as she did with her mother, trying to figure out what is required of her and then doing it. "Chameleon-like," he says, "she tries to assume the colours of each new world."

Her efforts, however, are largely undermined by Ingrid, who communicates with her daughter from prison and criticises any new influences in Astrid's life that don't meet with her own idealistic standards, causing Astrid to question whatever little progress she has made. "I'm only protecting you from those people," Ingrid claims, but, as John Wells points out, "she is primarily interested in protecting herself - in this case, from losing control of her daughter. This is the meaning behind Janet's choice of oleander as a symbol and the book's title. It's a beautiful flower that protects itself by making its own poison."

Once Kosminsky came on board he worked with Wells and Donoghue to incorporate even more of Fitch's original ideas and language into the script. Together they maintained what he refers to as "a writer's approach" to the adaptation, protecting the core of the project because, he says, "I loved the source material and wanted to use as much of it as I could." One slight alteration he made was to exclude from the film those few scenes depicting incidents that Astrid herself could not have witnessed. "It struck me straightaway," he explains, "that this is Astrid's story and the film must maintain her perspective throughout. She leads us through this world and we meet her foster families and absorb the various incidents along with her. We never see anything that Astrid herself could not have seen."  In keeping with Astrid's point of view, the camera follows her closely and never gets ahead of her. It keeps pace with her as she explores each new environment and then seeks her response by coming around for reaction shots, a method which supports Kosminsky's desire to "make people feel that they are really entering this world, that it's real and authentic rather than theatrical."

Director of photography Elliott Davis used mostly hand-held cameras, which helped capture the intimacy of the subject matter. Says Wells, "Once the advent of steadicam revolutionised the industry, most people stopped using hand-held cameras. But filmmakers are realising that the steadicam forces you into a very fluid style. Peter was after something more immediate and raw."

Due to the episodic nature of the story, Kosminsky found himself directing a series of vignettes and fitting them together. Each foster home had its own cast, setting and set of circumstances with the traditional storytelling arc of a beginning, a middle and an end -- a structure that Kosminsky likens to life. Wells compares the overall effect to a pointillist painting: "When you stand up very close, you see only the little dots of paint. You have to stand back a bit to see the cumulative effect of those countless dots of paint and the beauty of the picture as a whole is revealed."

The city of Los Angeles is part of the fabric of White Oleander. As Astrid is repeatedly relocated from one placement to another, each opens as another self-contained mini-world with its own identity and way of life that she must learn, which is similar to how the various districts within the borders of that sprawling city actually function.

Understanding this, Kosminsky did not consider filming anywhere else. "It would have been appalling," he says, "particularly for those who loved the novel, to see it set elsewhere. Besides, as a foreigner, I was intrigued by the idea of filming in this city, which is entirely unfamiliar to me. I wanted to see firsthand the places that Janet Fitch referenced in her book."

In the course of the 40-day shoot, beginning in April 2001, the company filmed on 58 locations throughout the Los Angeles area, including Hollywood, Tujunga, Sunland, Echo Park, Silverlake, Monterey Park, Santa Monica, Malibu, Castaic, Manhattan Beach and Pasadena.

Astrid's journey begins in her mother's Hollywood apartment, which is predominantly stark and white. It's clearly an artist's space, reflective of Ingrid's personality, an aesthete's idea of beauty. Touches of Ingrid's well-travelled Bohemian lifestyle are evident, but the most commanding details are her own dramatic artworks. One large mixed-media photo installation dominates an entire wall of the 1920's Hollywood locale.

In jarring contrast is Starr's doublewide trailer in the rural and undeveloped Tujunga Wash, with its cluttered, over-the-top, gaudy décor that matches Starr's own wardrobe of hot '70s colors and eclectic thrift store finds. On moonlit nights Astrid can sit by herself on the tiny porch step and look out into the vast desert landscape, an image of profound loneliness and beauty.

Astrid next finds herself in Claire Richards' Malibu hilltop home with its spectacular view of the shimmering Pacific Ocean. The classic contemporary set, with its white-on-white and beige hues is both opulent and restrictive. It reflects the outward serenity and inner sadness of the deeply troubled Claire.

By the time she arrives at her final foster home, the crowded Silverlake apartment of Russian émigré Rena, Astrid has given up trying to blend into her ever-changing surroundings and instead carves out a personal corner for herself amid Rena's eclectic flea market junk.

Even the weather plays a subtle part in the story, and in this way the authentic Los Angeles locations co-operated with the filmmakers. Throughout production the air often snapped with static electricity from warm Santa Ana winds that blow into town every spring - the winds that so inspired free-spirited Ingrid when her mood was upbeat and that Kosminsky was careful to capture on film. Southern California native Michelle Pfeiffer knows those winds well. "I grew up with them," she says fondly. "We lived in an area that wasn't fully developed at that time. I have vivid memories of giant tumbleweeds rolling down my street when I was a child."