Jane Addiction Part 10 - Sense and Sensibility Vol II

Welcome to my 10 week critique of films based on the works of Jane Austen. I will review each installment of PBS's "Masterpiece: The Complete Jane Austen" and also take a look at other adaptations of the same novel. Enjoy!

Note: Masterpiece just finished its two week presentation of the 2008 "Sense and Sensibility" mini-series. This week, I will look at the second half of this series and also examine Rodney Bennet's 1981 mini-series adaptation.

Sense and Sensibility Vol II

Shortly after Willoughby's abrupt departure, Edward Ferrars pays a visit to the Dashwood ladies at Barton Cottage. But, Edward is unexpectedly morose and standoffish. He stays for only a night, leaving Elinor puzzled about his feelings for her.

Barton Park soon sees the arrival of more visitors - Mrs. Jennings’s daughter Charlotte and son-in-law Mr. Palmer, as well as distant cousins Lucy and Ann Steele. Upon meeting the Miss Dashwoods, Lucy tells Elinor in private that she has longed to meet her, as Edward Ferrars has spoken so fondly of her. Elinor is surprised that Lucy and Edward are acquainted, but is completely stunned when Lucy confides that she has been secretly engaged to Edward for four years. Though heartbroken, Elinor promises to keep Lucy's secret safe.

Mrs. Jennings announces her upcoming trip to London and invites Elinor and Marianne to accompany her. Though Elinor is hesitant, Marianne jumps at this chance to reunite with Willoughby. Mrs. Dashwood gives her blessing and her daughters soon depart.

Once they arrive in London, Marianne writes to Willoughby and waits impatiently for his visit. When their first gentleman caller happens to be Colonel Brandon, she storms out of the room, frustrated and disappointed. A dismal Brandon then asks Elinor if Marianne is engaged to Willoughby and though she cannot verify it, she admits to the expectation. Brandon mysteriously comments that he wishes Marianne well and hopes that Willoughby "will endeavor to deserve her".

The Miss Steeles come to London with the Palmers. John Dashwood and Fanny are in town, too. Along with Colonel Brandon and the Miss Dashwoods, they all gather at a neighborhood ball. Marianne finally spots the elusive Willoughby there and greets him with great warmth. He is inexplicably frigid and barely shakes her hand before returning to his throng of admiring women. Brandon and Elinor escort a stupefied Marianne back to Mrs. Jennings’s place, but cannot convince her to go to bed before she has written to Willoughby again. His response arrives in the morning. In it, he curtly apologizes for having unintentionally misled her but makes it clear that his interests lie elsewhere. Marianne then learns that he is engaged to another woman.

News of Willoughby's cruel gesture travels around London. Colonel Brandon consoles Elinor by telling her of the terrible business that brought him to town; his fifteen-year-old ward Eliza (the daughter of his once lost love) had become pregnant with the child of a ruthless and irresponsible cad, and that cad was Willoughby. Elinor shares the story with her sister. Though Marianne is at last assured of Willoughby's villainy, it is no balm for her shattered heart.

In the following days, John and Fanny invite Elinor and Marianne to a gathering at their London apartment, along with the Miss Steeles. Fanny flaunts her disrespect for her sisters-in-law by fawning over Lucy and Ann, even inviting the Steeles to stay at their home. Lucy grows confident that Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars will approve of her engagement to Edward once it is revealed, but Elinor is incredulous, knowing that Lucy is too poor for their high standards.

During one of Lucy’s visits to Elinor, Edward makes a surprise appearance. Before he sees Lucy in the room, he tells Elinor that he must discuss something important with her. As he is about to open his heart, Elinor introduces him to Lucy. Edward is clearly discombobulated and barely says a word before excusing himself. Lucy asks him to escort her to his sister’s home and Elinor sadly watches them walk out the door together.

In short time, Ann Steele unwittingly reveals Edward and Lucy’s engagement to Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars. Mrs. Ferrars furiously insists that Edward rescind his proposal to Lucy, but he refuses to go back on his word. Fanny throws Edward and the Miss Steeles out of her home and Mrs. Ferrars transfers his inheritance to his younger brother, Robert. With no income, Edward and Lucy’s future together appears bleaker than ever.

Colonel Brandon is sympathetic to Edward’s situation and decides to offer him a living as the minister of his estate’s chapel. Since Brandon doesn’t know Edward well, he asks Elinor to deliver the “good” news. She does so with a heavy heart and a miserable Edward accepts the offer.

The Palmers decide to go back to their home in Cleveland and invite the Colonel and the Miss Dashwoods to come with them. During the visit, Marianne takes a long walk in the rain. She is already weak from depression and becomes terribly ill. Elinor asks Brandon to fetch their mother, because she fears that Marianne may not survive. After many hours of Elinor’s diligent nursing, Marianne recovers, even before Mrs. Dashwood arrives.

As Elinor rejoices in Marianne’s revival, a servant tells her of a gentleman caller, who is none other than Willoughby. He confesses to Elinor all of his wrongdoings and admits that when he first met Marianne, he only wanted to seduce her. But he did fall in love and would have married her if he hadn’t had to face the fallout from his indiscretion with Eliza. Marianne learns of his visit and rests a little easier knowing that she hadn’t misread his feelings.

The ladies return to Barton Cottage. Marianne decides to follow calm and temperate Elinor’s example and begins a self-imposed course of serious study. She also spends more time with the Colonel, who quietly woos her with books and music. Elinor tries to forget Edward, but is saddened to hear a servant’s news about running into Mrs. Lucy Ferrars. Assuming she has lost him forever, Elinor is startled when Edward rides up to the cottage alone, with another urgent message.

The second half of John Alexander’s 2008 Sense and Sensibility mini-series further demonstrates screenwriter Andrew Davies’s outstanding ability to interpret Austen’s texts. He covers a good two-thirds of the story in one ninety minute package without skipping any crucial plot turns or characters. He’s even able to salvage Lucy’s sister (known only as Miss Steele in this version), who was dropped from the 1995 feature-length film. Daisy Haggard’s performance as the gossipy older sister of Elinor’s rival is as deliciously repugnant as Claire Skinner’s Fanny. Her constant jabbering about “beaux” is as funny in this version as it is in the original text.

As I stated in last week’s review, the women continue to outshine the men in the finale. What a shame, considering that Edward, Brandon and Willoughby’s best moments occur in part two. David Morrissey’s Brandon barely registers any emotion, even in his most conflicted moments. One can hardly blame Marianne for judging him dull. Likewise, Dominic Cooper’s Willoughby, with his rat eyes and his permasneer, surprises no one by being revealed as a cad. One can hardly understand what Marianne saw in him anyway. Still, I will credit Dan Stevens for delivering an almost perfectly miserable Edward. He’s too gregarious in happy moments too really fit the bill that Austen created, but when he is sad – such as the moment when he says goodbye to Elinor after accepting the Colonel’s offer – the hurt in his eyes is really quite moving. This makes the climactic scene with Hattie Morahan’s Elinor all the more enjoyable. Certainly, it isn’t Emma Thompson/ Hugh Grant caliber, but it’s pretty damned close.

And despite the sub par male performances, this S&S does dangle near the 1995 version’s level of quality. But there is one glaring flaw I cannot forgive and it’s all Andrew Davies’s fault. He completely butchers the role of Mr. Palmer. This tiny character is one of my favorite personalities from all of Jane’s work. At first, he comes off as an asshole, the kind of guy who gets off on putting down his wife (a woman who lacks the intelligence to know when she is being insulted). But when you come to understand that Charlotte is as self-absorbed as she is stupid, he appears sympathetic. His eventual kindness to the Dashwood daughters (a detail left out of this script) goes to show that even a very good man or woman can become terribly embittered by a bad marriage.

Davies sketches Palmer very differently. This Palmer really is just an asshole – he’s more like Fanny in the way he scoffs at the Miss Dashwoods’ apartment. And though his appearance is small (to the point of being unnecessary), it exemplifies a strange trend among Austen adaptors of mischaracterizing, miscasting and oversimplifying her complex male figures. I’m afraid this trend has finally infected Mr. Davies’s writing, as well.

On the other hand, Rodney Bennet’s 1981 Sense and Sensibility mini-series – a far less dazzling production – fails mainly because of the women portraying our dear heroines. No other duo could better exemplify quintessential British hideousness. Irene Richard’s Elinor is distractingly weird looking. The big dirty teeth, those bulging eyes, that beak of a nose – I don’t write this to be cruel, but rather because I couldn’t help marveling. These are worthwhile details in any production involving close-up photography and the casting director ought to have known better. The shame of it is that Richard is a wonderful actress and a fine Elinor. It’s clear that Emma Thompson modeled her speech and delivery from this performance. Truly, Richard wows us most when she is speaking, but beware of her reaction shots. You’ll be expecting to see some drool falling from that lazy-eyed gawk.

Even with her sallow flesh and baggy eyes, Tracey Childs’s Marianne has a slightly less unnerving appearance. But she is an awful actress. She conveys “passion” by delivering every line as if she just ran out of breath. She tries to play off petulance as determination. Her worst moments are when she’s near death, tossing about the bed and moaning in unnaturally rhythmic fits of fever. The only reason you’re happy to see her live is that she falls asleep, shuts her mouth and stops acting. Her every waking moment is unbearable.

Yet, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to really enjoying this production. It features some of the best scenery of any Austen adaptation, not due to any artiness or particular skill in the camera work. Rather, the producers set up shop in a really gorgeous and bucolic bit of English countryside and let the cameras roll. It’s the exact sort of thing I want to watch in the middle of a summer day, when the sun is too hot and all I want is to soak myself in the pastoral beauty of a Jane Austen scenario. The pace is as pleasantly slow and gentle as a stroll down a country lane. It isn’t the kind of series I want to watch in one sitting, but each of the seven episodes is less than thirty minutes, which means you can take those funny British faces in small doses.

Additionally, some members of the supporting cast are skilled, even attractive. Bosco Hogan’s Edward looks like a less frightening Sam Donaldson, which is about as alluring as Edward should be. He is humble and kind, completely believable. And, his long-awaited pursuit of Elinor is more faithful to the book than either of the other versions of the tale. Their exchange is so befitting of their characters and even Irene Richard is resplendent in that beautiful scene. Robert Swann’s Colonel Brandon, with his Wolverine style muttonchops, would be almost too handsome and dashing if this production were not so wanting of eye candy. But, as always, I like best the actors who convincingly portray the jerks of the story and Hetty Baynes’s performance as Charlotte wins my favor. Her nasal giggle will make you understand what I meant about Mr. Palmer’s bitterness.

Thank goodness that the filmic canon of Jane Austen stories contains such less-than-perfect interpretations. Almost every adaptation will glean one or two details that the others missed. I have yet to see a Persuasion that features the funny and uncomfortable scene in which a stoic Wentworth rescues his estranged Anne from the evil clutches of her bratty nephew’s filthy little hands. Maybe I’ll write my own version, just to include that. Until the next adaptation arrives, there’s nothing left for me to do with Jane Austen. The woman only wrote six novels!

Jane Addiction Part 9 - Sense and Sensibility Vol I

Welcome to my 10 week critique of films based on the works of Jane Austen. I will review each installment of PBS's "Masterpiece: The Complete Jane Austen" and also take a look at other adaptations of the same novel. Enjoy!

Note: Masterpiece just began its two week presentation of the 2008 "Sense and Sensibility" mini-series. This week, I will look at the first half of this series and also examine Ang Lee's 1995 feature film adaptation.

Sense and Sensibility Vol. I
Sisters Elinor and Marianne Dashwood are temperamental opposites - elder Elinor is polite, rational, and emotionally reserved, whereas brash, passionate Marianne freely speaks her mind. Along with their gentle mother and precocious younger sister, Margaret, the Dashwood ladies find themselves homeless when Mr. Dashwood dies and older brother John inherits Norland, the family estate. Although John made a deathbed promise to his father to look after his stepmother and half-sisters, he and his pushy wife Fanny quickly move in, quietly pressuring the ladies to find a new home and promising them only a small annual allowance. Elinor tries to be civil toward John and Fanny while Marianne wallows in bitterness and mourning.

Fanny's older brother Edward Ferrars visits Norland. Modest, kind Edward is sympathetic to the Dashwood women and develops a friendship with Elinor. When Fanny senses that Edward is falling for her sister-in-law, she hints to Mrs. Dashwood that she expects her brother to marry a wealthier woman. Fanny's snobbery pushes Mrs. Dashwood over the edge, and she rashly accepts the first housing offer that fits her meager budget - an invitation to rent Barton Cottage on her cousin Sir John Middleton's estate. Elinor sadly says goodbye to Edward, but he promises to visit her soon.

Sir John warmly greets his new tenants and insists they visit his home. There they meet his boring wife Lady Middleton and her boisterous busybody mother Mrs. Jennings. The Middletons also introduce the ladies to their good friend, Colonel Brandon, a tasteful, mild-mannered naval officer who is immediately charmed by Marianne. Yet, Marianne is incensed when Sir John and Mrs. Jennings teasingly hint that she is destined to marry the much older Colonel.

As Brandon pines for Marianne, she meets Willoughby, her equally spirited and outspoken male counterpart. The two are immediately inseparable and the neighbors and family begin to assume that Willoughby has or will soon propose to Marianne. Elinor feels for the dejected Brandon as she laments her separation from Edward.

One day, after inviting all the neighbors to a party at his home, Colonel Brandon suddenly departs the gathering, saying that he must deal with a personal emergency in London. Willoughby and Marianne mock the inscrutable Colonel for his seriousness, vociferously agreeing that Brandon is too dull for their tastes. It is more obvious than ever that these two are in love, so when Willoughby asks Mrs. Dashwood if he can see Marianne in private, everyone assumes that he will propose to her. But when Elinor, Margaret and Mrs. Dashwood come home to find Marianne sobbing hysterically, they see a flustered Willoughby rushing out the door, saying he must leave to stay at his aunt's home for at least a year. Watching Willoughby ride away, the Dashwood ladies are perplexed by another man's inexplicable departure.

The first half of John Alexander's 2008 "Sense and Sensibility" mini-series is proof enough that this is the best of the BBC's batch of new Austen adaptations. Maintaining the proper tone is always crucial and it's no surprise that Andrew Davies is the man behind this brilliant script, which may be his best work to date. Managing to capture the lightness and beauty of a tale that begins with death and deceit is no easy task, especially when there is so little dialog from which a screenwriter can draw. More than any of Jane's other stories, S&S describes feeling and character more often than it details actions, so it is up to the screenwriter to create scenes that embody the emotions and personalities at the core of this narrative. Davies accomplishes this with dozens of telling vignettes, like the sequence in which Fanny persuades John to shrink the ladies' allowance as they pack their carriage and drive to Norland. In a few tidy scenes, Davies conveys Fanny’s greed and John's utter lack of conviction.

Of course, it takes great acting to capture the spirit of Austen's characters, and the two leading ladies are the best of this cast. Hattie Morahan's intelligent and even-keeled Elinor is exactly as you expect her to be, but Charity Wakefield’s Marianne is a pleasant surprise – she is just as intelligent and assured in her ardent manner, whereas most actresses would rely on being merely impetuous. Janet McTeer’s naively sweet Mrs. Dashwood is the perfect foil to Claire Skinner’s sociopathic Fanny. Indeed, Skinner’s portrayal makes Fanny one of Austen’s most delightfully reprehensible villains. She overflows with glee as she swiftly displaces her in-laws in mourning.

Unfortunately, the men are not so sublime. In most Austen adaptations, too little attention is paid to casting the men properly (a dopey move, considering how many horny, hetero women love to watch these films), and that is the biggest problem with this version. David Morrissey’s Brandon is blandon. Dominic Cooper’s Willoughby is attractive, but far more grating than sexy. Dan Stevens’s Edward is the most frustrating despite being the most likable. He’s lighthearted, cute, charming, but not much like the introverted Edward from the text.

Of course, all the heroics and caddishness come to light in the second act. Perhaps next week’s installment will give the men an opportunity to live up to the ladies’ stunning portrayals.

If not for that glaring deficit in casting, this new version of the story may have lived up to Ang Lee’s 1995 Sense and Sensibility. Half the credit for this brilliant adaptation goes to Emma Thompson, who not only starred as Elinor, but also wrote the screenplay that so deservedly won her an Oscar. Thompson is an actor’s writer, peppering her script with enough silence so that the players can express themselves in subtler ways. Enter Ang Lee’s eye for beautiful backdrops and scenery and here we have one of the most perfectly executed motion pictures of all time. Nearly every scene is a masterpiece.

Of all the fantastic actors that grace this production, including ingénue Kate Winslet as Marianne and Alan Rickman as Colonel Brandon, Hugh Grant stands out most in his portrayal of Edward. The same man who brought us Bridget Jones’s Diary’s classic cad gives us this incredibly well-studied and subtle performance. Every stutter and averted glance speaks both the awkwardness and the secret burden behind his thoughtful expression. His climactic scene with Thompson’s Elinor is the finest and most cathartic payoff of any Austen-based film.

But Grant’s performance is just one perfect sample of a practically perfect film. With its top-notch acting, direction, writing, cinematography and score, this film actually justifies the time and expense taken to produce a big-budget theatrical release. In this one, rare instance, Hollywood trumps the BBC.