Transforming transfixing genre fiction into memorable cinema is no simple task. Just ask Tom Tykwer and the Wachowskis, whose polarizing adaptation of David Mitchell's novel Cloud Atlas arrives Friday. Next comes the first of Peter Jackson's films based on J.R.R. Tolkien's immortal fantasy novel The Hobbit, which you're probably obsessively anticipating (unless you live under a hill). Special Feature: Three-View Review: Cloud Atlas Swirls With Ambition Will these projects leave a lasting impression on cinema the way 2001: A Space Odyssey and Jackson's The Lord of the Rings trilogy did? The road from page to screen is littered with botch jobs and ambitious failures, but sometimes a director pulls it off, turning a beloved sci-fi or fantasy book into a surprisingly effective film. You'll find those examples in Wired's gallery of most successful book-based sci-fi and fantasy films, alongside other picks ranging from the classic to the esoteric. Click through for our take on how those films made the jump from print to celluloid, then tell us your own favorite literary-cinematic crossover champs in the comments section below. Above: 2001: A Space Odyssey Source text: Arthur C. Clarke's short story "The Sentinel," which he expanded into the novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, which itself was written concurrently with Stanley Kubrick's film. Lost in translation? A remarkably seamless media fusion, Clarke's novel and Kubrick's film were born and shaped together for maximum impact. The productive collaboration posthumously remains as instructive, and imposing, as the space baby that fills Earth's sky at 2001: A Space Odyssey's optimistic finale. You're not likely to see two literary and cinematic stars shine as brightly ever again. Report card: It's arguable that Clarke and Kubrick's masterpiece is the most influential book-based film, and film-based book, in any genre or tongue. But good luck getting all geeks to agree.

The Lord of the Rings Source text: J.R.R. Tolkien's personal, political fantasy masterwork The Lord of the Rings, written over 12 world-war-torn years and still making millions as you read this. A sprawling novel split into three books, it eventually morphed into three fantasy blockbusters to rule them all, thanks to New Zealand horror director Peter Jackson and the arty geniuses at Weta Workshop and Weta Digital. Lost in translation? Jackson and team's slavish devotion to Tolkien's expansive texts and histories led them deep into Lord of the Rings' rich appendices in search of more fantasy to splash on the screen. He's raided the same marginalia to round up The Hobbit into three standalone films that likely will lord over the box office like Smaug. Report card: Even when Jackson entirely made things up, his powerful trilogy still managed to work well enough to remain the fantasy film exemplar to beat, book-based and otherwise. (Don't trip, Harry Potter. You'll get love later.)

Blade Runner Source text: Literary cosmonaut Philip K. Dick's 1968 sci-fi novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Nominated for the Nebula, it lost to Alexei Panshin's moving Rite of Passage, which, unlike Electric Sheep, you probably haven't heard of, although you probably should. Lost in translation? Dick's novel didn't parse as atmospheric and ambitious as Alien director Ridley Scott's 1982 adaptation Blade Runner, which starred Harrison Ford at the height of his Han Solo power. Dick's cerebral but chatty novel is starkly different from Scott's often silent mood cinema, making the latter one of the few book-based space jumps that deviated from its source without crashing and burning. Report card: Released during a decade moving onto lesser films with dumber explosions, Blade Runner originally didn't compute. But it eventually grew from a resilient cult classic into a lasting example of stellar sci-fi film, which is why it's currently being rebooted by Scott himself.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Source text: The third book in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter fantasy series, a set of books with a lasting impact that remains Tolkien's only serious commercial competition. As for artistic ambition, only time will tell if Rowling's novels can withstand the changing tastes. Lost in translation? Directed by Children of Men's quite gifted Alfonso Cuaron, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban chopped lots of the book's exposition and magical education. But it also amped up the psychodrama, and brought viewers a demented perspective of what Rowling's sometimes-derivative narratives can really achieve onscreen when they're steered with skill and vision. Report card: Cuaron's risky auteur stamp was well worth the gamble. A box-office and critical winner, it remains the Harry Potter film series' finest effort.

Akira Source text: Katsuhiro Otomo's cyberpunk manga series Akira, which he adapted with Izo Hashimoto into what is probably the most influential comic-based sci-fi film of all time. Lost in translation? Running from 1982 to 1990, dystopian manga Akira was a narrative and artistic landmark of the form. And although Otomo's mind-wiping Akira film adaptation chopped and concentrated much of the comic, it still detonated like a nuke in 1988, instantly raising the bar for animation and speculative storytelling. The fallout remains significant enough to continually abort successive attempts to reboot Akira as a live-action film. Report card: In print and on-screen, Akira dramatically paved the way for a greater worldwide embrace of manga and anime. It also greatly influenced the Wachowskis' Matrix franchise, which remains the sibling directors' crowning achievement (at least until the dust from Cloud Atlas settles).

Naked Lunch Source text: Beat Generation satellite and postmodern fiction pioneer William S. Burroughs' 1959 hardboiled Naked Lunch, one of the most influential, and banned, novels ever written. Lost in translation? Naked Lunch's purposeful non-linearity, borne equally of artistic experiment and lots and lots of drugs, once tagged it as the most unfilmable book on the shelves. Then visionary director David Cronenberg's Naked Lunch film arrived in 1991 with RoboCop's unabashed Burroughs fan Peter Weller in the lead as Bill Lee, a tortured writer beset by violence, intrigue, hallucinations, Mugwumps and more. Report card: The result was a definitive sci-fantasy merge that mashed Burroughs' controversial life and views into his novel. It was also one of the most compelling, and disorienting, book-based films of all time.

Watchmen Source text: Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' epochal graphic novel, which was declared unfilmable by its controversial writer even after director Zach Snyder (mostly) faithfully used the book as a user-friendly storyboard for his controversial 2009 adaptation. Lost in translation? Meticulously constructed and deep with artistic allusion and ambition, Moore and Gibbons' Watchmen proved that superhero comics could become literary masterpieces. Snyder's visceral cinematic riff on the comic's apocalyptic story came preloaded with cultural pressure, but its impressive scope and geeky loyalty came on strong. Report card: Snyder's Watchmen more than passed its first test, which was not to transform comics geeks into a vengeful mob. But Watchmen has strong competition from Alan Moore's less ambitious but just as prescient 1982 comic book V for Vendetta, whose 2006 film adaptation has spawned a new generation of anarchist uprisers bearing Guy Fawkes masks and middle fingers for the status quo.

Starship Troopers Source text: Robert Heinlein's Hugo-winning 1959 military sci-fi novel Starship Troopers, determinedly written during a pause from writing his less controversial religious fable Stranger in a Strange Land. Composed by a veteran during a time of political turbulence and subsequently beloved and incorporated into the curriculum of the U.S. military establishment, Starship Troopers has suffered continued charges of everything from overt fascism and racism to simply serving as a selfish platform for the narrow sociopolitical beliefs of Heinlein, who had become a civilian by the time World War II exploded. Lost in translation? Starship Troopers director Paul Verhoeven grew up on the other side of WWII's looking glass in the Netherlands, next to a continuously bombed German base. The experience encouraged him to amplify the disturbing propaganda and brutal militarism of Heinlein's polarizing novel, resulting in a film that deliberately quoted Leni Riefenstahl's Nazi hagiography Triumph of the Will, and whose self-aware satire and shallow characters still uncomfortably defy cinematic convention. Report card: Like Blade Runner above, Starship Troopers critically approached its source text for a new medium rather than just stuffing pages into the camera. And while it has proven as polarizing as its source text, it is increasingly recognized as an incisive and insightful example of book-based sci-fi film, one whose bloody heart and programmed mind are almost perfectly built for our own worrisome future.

Kiss Me Deadly Source text: Mickey Spillane's bloodthirsty 1952 pulp mystery Kiss Me Deadly, whose seething antihero Mike Hammer could be a signifier for primal violence or the beginning of the end of hardboiled fiction, or both. Lost in translation? Spillane's Mike Hammer novels were exercises in unsustainable masculinity bordering on psychopathic hypocrisy. Which is to say, Hammer liked to beat the crap out of criminals to show that beating the crap out of innocents is wrong. But director Robert Aldrich's 1955 Kiss Me Deadly film caps off Hammer's often hilarious emasculation with a nuclear apocalypse that comes out of nowhere, resulting in a lasting film noir standout that strangely transgresses genre. Report card: Film scholars still teach it far and wide, but geeks will also remind you that Kiss Me Deadly's nuclear suitcase has been replicated in Alex Cox's punk sci-fi pioneer Repo Man and Quentin Tarantino's much more mainstream Pulp Fiction.