Read first, or watch first?
Read first — and this is one of the few books here where that is not really negotiable, because there is no adaptation that carries the thing the book is for. Every film is obliged to turn twenty-eight years of small competent work into ninety minutes of incident, and the small competent work IS Robinson Crusoe; watching first would teach a reader to expect a story that the page is not telling. What the films are genuinely good for is afterwards. Buñuel's 1954 version is the one to pick — it is the only adaptation anybody has ever taken seriously as a film, it keeps the full twenty-eight years, and O'Herlihy's Oscar nomination was earned in the long stretches where he has nobody to talk to. Watch it the week after and the family will spend the whole time saying that isn't how it goes, which is the best conversation a book-and-film pairing can produce. Robinson Crusoe on Mars is a separate pleasure and worth an evening of its own.