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!
