At 300 minutes, it might seem a bit steep to sit through -- after all, the novel is barely under 400 pages and its plot is concise enough to garner a shorter transition from book form to images. But, when you sit and read PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, widely considered to be Jane Austen's magnum opus, and savor its miniaturist style, its sharp language, the treatment of even its minor characters as a huge tapestry, there is no other way to create a complete vision of the novel but to do a televised re-working of her novel. (The advent of Emma Thompson and the 2005 movie now proves otherwise.)
The interesting aspect of the miniseries is that it never feels like it's moving at a crawl. The story of Austen's micro-society develops at its own pace, much like the novel: it's as if the novel had literally come alive and were being acted by the people from FAHRENHEIT 451, complete with costumes and settings. We meet the Bennets right at the beginning when they discuss how Netherfield is to be let at last, and that its owner is none other than an eligible bachelor. Elizabeth, the second eldest Bennet herself is the one who utters the opening line of Austen's book -- and it's appropriate that she be the one who does so: listen to how she says it, not to when she does or who she does to.
The arrival of such a man causes an uproar it the small community. Charles Bingley is a congenial man, personable, but has some odious sisters, Caroline and Louisa Hurst. His friend, Mr. Darcy, is also eligible and ten times richer than Bingley, but is soon to be revealed to be someone disagreeable. At the ball, Jane Bennet becomes close with Charles (much to her mother's delight) and Elizabeth seen to be a little taken with the imposing nature of Darcy, but his aloof nature and continuous rebuffs, plus a harsh commentary he makes of her within earshot hurts her deeply: her pride has been hurt; hence, from now on, she will have nothing to do with him.
But fate has her meet him again when Jane falls ill after she gets called to spend an evening with Bingley and his sisters. While Darcy seems to be taking a repressed liking to Elizabeth, she is unaware of it, and grows increasingly hostile towards him, particularly after learning from George Wickham that he behaved quite badly towards him. In the middle of this, and because the Bennets have no son, the girls stand no chance of inheriting. Their property has been entailed to a male heir. Reverend Collins comes looking for a wife, proposes to Elizabeth, gets rebuffed, and winds up marrying Charlotte Lucas -- Elizabeth's best friend. On top of this, the Bingleys leave Netherfield, and Jane's future is left up in the air.
Eventually the plot reaches a head, and like the novel, it occurs midway. Jane Austen must have been aware at an empiric form that editing can balance out a work and enhance its effect, because in putting the crisis of the action halfway she establishes that Elizabeth and Darcy will have to shift towards each other in a realistic way, the same way other events will allow Jane and Bingley to consummate their union. This is what makes this story so enduring -- everything in it is realistic as possible, adhering to what society's attitude towards woman and men of their time was, where marriage was taken as serious as a retirement plan or having medical benefits.
The miniseries captures the slow breakdown of Austen's plot in a way that could have been stagy but is not. Not one thread is left untold, unlike the 1940 version (despite the presences of Laurence Olivier and Greer Garson) where the story looked a little more like farce and characters in the book behaved much differently in that film version. Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth are perfect in their renditions of Elizabeth and Darcy. She resembles an earthier version of Meryl Streep down to her voice and mannerisms; he is as aloof as alluring. Who wouldn't believe they didn't have what it took to merge together? Both have to do much acting without expressing much if at all, yet Ehle brings a nice iconoclastic attitude towards her character, the same way Firth embodies masculine arrogance.
Now, with the 2005 film version having got the praise it did, there will be people who prefer this version to the movie version and vice versa. There may be Olivier purists who will balk at such a long version. Having read the novel several times, I can relate to this one best because it retains pages of dialog intact without making it too talky and that's a tricky thing to do. Minus Alison Steadman's character, everyone is at a uniform level, but Steadman is a shade too shrill. While Mrs. Bennet wasn't the most agreeable person in the world, I believe that she has been represented better in the movie version because while still being a hyperactive, over-emotional woman, she was aware her daughters would be left destitute if they did not marry well. Even so, she does have a delicate tightrope to walk and I found myself liking Mrs. Bennet in the end and understood she was also a part of this enormous tapestry that Austen herself had woven so lovingly.
The interesting aspect of the miniseries is that it never feels like it's moving at a crawl. The story of Austen's micro-society develops at its own pace, much like the novel: it's as if the novel had literally come alive and were being acted by the people from FAHRENHEIT 451, complete with costumes and settings. We meet the Bennets right at the beginning when they discuss how Netherfield is to be let at last, and that its owner is none other than an eligible bachelor. Elizabeth, the second eldest Bennet herself is the one who utters the opening line of Austen's book -- and it's appropriate that she be the one who does so: listen to how she says it, not to when she does or who she does to.
The arrival of such a man causes an uproar it the small community. Charles Bingley is a congenial man, personable, but has some odious sisters, Caroline and Louisa Hurst. His friend, Mr. Darcy, is also eligible and ten times richer than Bingley, but is soon to be revealed to be someone disagreeable. At the ball, Jane Bennet becomes close with Charles (much to her mother's delight) and Elizabeth seen to be a little taken with the imposing nature of Darcy, but his aloof nature and continuous rebuffs, plus a harsh commentary he makes of her within earshot hurts her deeply: her pride has been hurt; hence, from now on, she will have nothing to do with him.
But fate has her meet him again when Jane falls ill after she gets called to spend an evening with Bingley and his sisters. While Darcy seems to be taking a repressed liking to Elizabeth, she is unaware of it, and grows increasingly hostile towards him, particularly after learning from George Wickham that he behaved quite badly towards him. In the middle of this, and because the Bennets have no son, the girls stand no chance of inheriting. Their property has been entailed to a male heir. Reverend Collins comes looking for a wife, proposes to Elizabeth, gets rebuffed, and winds up marrying Charlotte Lucas -- Elizabeth's best friend. On top of this, the Bingleys leave Netherfield, and Jane's future is left up in the air.
Eventually the plot reaches a head, and like the novel, it occurs midway. Jane Austen must have been aware at an empiric form that editing can balance out a work and enhance its effect, because in putting the crisis of the action halfway she establishes that Elizabeth and Darcy will have to shift towards each other in a realistic way, the same way other events will allow Jane and Bingley to consummate their union. This is what makes this story so enduring -- everything in it is realistic as possible, adhering to what society's attitude towards woman and men of their time was, where marriage was taken as serious as a retirement plan or having medical benefits.
The miniseries captures the slow breakdown of Austen's plot in a way that could have been stagy but is not. Not one thread is left untold, unlike the 1940 version (despite the presences of Laurence Olivier and Greer Garson) where the story looked a little more like farce and characters in the book behaved much differently in that film version. Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth are perfect in their renditions of Elizabeth and Darcy. She resembles an earthier version of Meryl Streep down to her voice and mannerisms; he is as aloof as alluring. Who wouldn't believe they didn't have what it took to merge together? Both have to do much acting without expressing much if at all, yet Ehle brings a nice iconoclastic attitude towards her character, the same way Firth embodies masculine arrogance.
Now, with the 2005 film version having got the praise it did, there will be people who prefer this version to the movie version and vice versa. There may be Olivier purists who will balk at such a long version. Having read the novel several times, I can relate to this one best because it retains pages of dialog intact without making it too talky and that's a tricky thing to do. Minus Alison Steadman's character, everyone is at a uniform level, but Steadman is a shade too shrill. While Mrs. Bennet wasn't the most agreeable person in the world, I believe that she has been represented better in the movie version because while still being a hyperactive, over-emotional woman, she was aware her daughters would be left destitute if they did not marry well. Even so, she does have a delicate tightrope to walk and I found myself liking Mrs. Bennet in the end and understood she was also a part of this enormous tapestry that Austen herself had woven so lovingly.