Hm. THIS is what we've been missing, right? Another cinematic adaptation of a Jane Austen novel! And, by all means, let's adapt Austen's most obscure, least-read work: "Pride and Prejudice"!
Let's face it, Joe Wright's film has a lot going against it from the outset. I couldn't rouse myself to go see it when it was in theaters last year: the prospect of being utterly bored (ANOTHER Austen adaptation?) certainly encouraged the notion that I could wait to see it on a rainy afternoon at home. And the actual execution of the film hasn't entirely dispelled the boredom, as this material is so well-worn that you could almost recite it in your sleep. The cinephile can only think back with gratitude to the example set by Stanley Kubrick, who, after realizing that he couldn't get enough financing to make the film about Napoleon that he had wanted to make, turned to an almost-forgotten novel, "Barry Lyndon", by Thackeray. There are scores of 18th- and 19th century novelists whose works we've never read. Filmmakers: surprise us, for God's sake!
The good news is, Wright & Co. DO surprise us by making an adequately entertaining movie, despite the long odds. Much of the film's success has to do with Austen herself: stick with her (meaning, her themes, her interpretations of her characters, her narrative) and you'll be all right. Screenwriter Deborah Moggach pulls off a marvel of ruthless synthesis with her script. You feel that nothing is really left out; the highest points in the story are raised and illustrated with care, even if the richness of the details must perforce be excised. We're also grateful that Wright, Moggach, and their editors stick to their guns in terms of brevity. The fact is, a 3-hour movie would still be too short, and those rich details would still need to be cut -- therefore, it's eminently sensible that the filmmakers keep the length to just over 2 hours. The only plot element that seems to suffer from this otherwise praiseworthy effort of getting to the point is Elizabeth's flirtation with Wickham. Even if Wickham was always just a tool to get Lizzy's mind off of Darcy, he needs to be a bigger tool than what's evident in the five minutes of screen time the character is afforded here. In other words, he needs to be a real romantic possibility for Lizzy, and his lies about Darcy need to be deeply believed by not just her, but by us, as well. (Austen was a wicked plotter!) The romantic suspense gets lost, to say nothing of Austen's commentary on the predatory social climbers of her time.
All that remains are the performances. Matthew Macfadyen doesn't convince as a proud young grandee. He's morose enough, I suppose, but is also too clearly love-struck to fool Lizzy (and us) about his character and motives. Donald Sutherland as Mr. Bennet seems too sloppy and too amiable: we never get the sense of deeply-felt irritation which is at the root of Mr. Bennet's sardonic witticisms. Tom Hollander as Mr. Collins affords a pleasant surprise, investing this character -- too often hammed-up as a slimy buffoon -- with a fussy little dignity and even a certain amount of decency. (Austen had always implied that if he was good enough for Ms. Lucas, then surely WE can tolerate him.) And two of Great Britain's grandest actresses, Brenda Blethyn and Judi Dench as Mrs. Bennet and The Lady Catherine De Bourg respectively, are so well-suited for their roles as to render pointless any discussion of their portrayals: they're both perfect, obviously.
The revelation here, what makes this movie ultimately worth watching, is Keira Knightley in the lead role. Let it be said at once that a Star is born. Ms. Knightley displays a screen magnetism that heretofore had only been hinted at, for one thing; for another, she provides her interpretation with just the right admixture of tenderness, intelligence, and steel. Is she too young for the part? Actually, no: Elizabeth is 22 in the novel, as I recall; Knightley was about 20 during filming. (Her tender age makes her performance all the impressive!) Critics have complained about her girlishness, the giggling, and so on, but I for one thought that Jennifer Ehle from what women the world over call the "Colin Firth Mini-Series" produced by A&E came across too often as an experienced wife of a dozen years with children playing in the backyard. Knightley is far more plausible as an inexperienced young woman just past 20 who is nonetheless smart enough and tough enough to withstand the interrogations of the fearsome Lady Catherine. It IS possible for one of literature's greatest feminist characters to be YOUNG, just as Austen wrote her.
5 stars out of 10.
Let's face it, Joe Wright's film has a lot going against it from the outset. I couldn't rouse myself to go see it when it was in theaters last year: the prospect of being utterly bored (ANOTHER Austen adaptation?) certainly encouraged the notion that I could wait to see it on a rainy afternoon at home. And the actual execution of the film hasn't entirely dispelled the boredom, as this material is so well-worn that you could almost recite it in your sleep. The cinephile can only think back with gratitude to the example set by Stanley Kubrick, who, after realizing that he couldn't get enough financing to make the film about Napoleon that he had wanted to make, turned to an almost-forgotten novel, "Barry Lyndon", by Thackeray. There are scores of 18th- and 19th century novelists whose works we've never read. Filmmakers: surprise us, for God's sake!
The good news is, Wright & Co. DO surprise us by making an adequately entertaining movie, despite the long odds. Much of the film's success has to do with Austen herself: stick with her (meaning, her themes, her interpretations of her characters, her narrative) and you'll be all right. Screenwriter Deborah Moggach pulls off a marvel of ruthless synthesis with her script. You feel that nothing is really left out; the highest points in the story are raised and illustrated with care, even if the richness of the details must perforce be excised. We're also grateful that Wright, Moggach, and their editors stick to their guns in terms of brevity. The fact is, a 3-hour movie would still be too short, and those rich details would still need to be cut -- therefore, it's eminently sensible that the filmmakers keep the length to just over 2 hours. The only plot element that seems to suffer from this otherwise praiseworthy effort of getting to the point is Elizabeth's flirtation with Wickham. Even if Wickham was always just a tool to get Lizzy's mind off of Darcy, he needs to be a bigger tool than what's evident in the five minutes of screen time the character is afforded here. In other words, he needs to be a real romantic possibility for Lizzy, and his lies about Darcy need to be deeply believed by not just her, but by us, as well. (Austen was a wicked plotter!) The romantic suspense gets lost, to say nothing of Austen's commentary on the predatory social climbers of her time.
All that remains are the performances. Matthew Macfadyen doesn't convince as a proud young grandee. He's morose enough, I suppose, but is also too clearly love-struck to fool Lizzy (and us) about his character and motives. Donald Sutherland as Mr. Bennet seems too sloppy and too amiable: we never get the sense of deeply-felt irritation which is at the root of Mr. Bennet's sardonic witticisms. Tom Hollander as Mr. Collins affords a pleasant surprise, investing this character -- too often hammed-up as a slimy buffoon -- with a fussy little dignity and even a certain amount of decency. (Austen had always implied that if he was good enough for Ms. Lucas, then surely WE can tolerate him.) And two of Great Britain's grandest actresses, Brenda Blethyn and Judi Dench as Mrs. Bennet and The Lady Catherine De Bourg respectively, are so well-suited for their roles as to render pointless any discussion of their portrayals: they're both perfect, obviously.
The revelation here, what makes this movie ultimately worth watching, is Keira Knightley in the lead role. Let it be said at once that a Star is born. Ms. Knightley displays a screen magnetism that heretofore had only been hinted at, for one thing; for another, she provides her interpretation with just the right admixture of tenderness, intelligence, and steel. Is she too young for the part? Actually, no: Elizabeth is 22 in the novel, as I recall; Knightley was about 20 during filming. (Her tender age makes her performance all the impressive!) Critics have complained about her girlishness, the giggling, and so on, but I for one thought that Jennifer Ehle from what women the world over call the "Colin Firth Mini-Series" produced by A&E came across too often as an experienced wife of a dozen years with children playing in the backyard. Knightley is far more plausible as an inexperienced young woman just past 20 who is nonetheless smart enough and tough enough to withstand the interrogations of the fearsome Lady Catherine. It IS possible for one of literature's greatest feminist characters to be YOUNG, just as Austen wrote her.
5 stars out of 10.
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