by Jake Bourgeois, Contributing Writer
With the exception of a few gap years in adulthood, I’ve always been a voracious reader.
However, once I got to high school, I butted heads with many of my assigned readings. They might have been bona fide classics, but I didn’t enjoy reading them. Many of them from the 19th century focused on finding love while balancing what society required of you and what it could mean for the life you could make for yourself (though that subgenre wasn’t the only one that failed to hold my interest).
But then, nearly a decade ago, something changed. I saw Little Women and loved it. Then came Emma during the COVID times. Delightful. Even the classic romantic dramas that seem to enrage the purists, like Persuasionand Wuthering Heights, I’m able to find an entry point.
So, when the newest adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility was announced, I was already more than willing to check it out. After watching it, I think it’s official: I’m here for all of these, and I’m embracing it at this point.
The classic story follows the trials and tribulations of the Dashwoods after the death of their father with no male heir among them leaves their social future uncertain. While I don’t know for a fact how faithful this adaptation is to a book I’ve never read, the characters are so clearly communicated that I’m betting it is pretty spot on. In her debut screenplay, Diana Reid gets across everything she needs to in her script. With one or two purposeful exceptions, I’m given the measure of each character almost immediately. For the Dashwood sisters, that’s the reservedness of Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones), the passions of Marianne (Esmé Creed-Miles), and the cheek of Margaret (Bodhi Rae Breathnach). Their interplay feels so genuine that you can’t help but fall in love with them. On the opposite side of the coin, every last satirical member of polite society they come across is sharp in their own unique way, the most constant being Mrs. Jennings (Fiona Shaw).
Austen is obviously satirizing the social structure of the time. However, I’ve never really vibed with most of the 19th century canon of its ilk I’ve tried my hand at, forced or otherwise. There’s something about adding the cinematic medium to her words that just hooks me in a way I don’t get in my attempts to read the written word. However, there’s more to it than that with this adaptation, in that visually it also does work as a love story, even as it’s flipping the social norms on its head. Director Georgia Oakley accentuates the tone to near perfection. Whether it’s capturing the yearning in a glance, an almost touch, or a wistful stare to the horizon, the visual and auditory cues used on the technical side of this film perfectly accentuates the tone of the moment.
And that’s all before we get to the performances.
With Edgar-Jones as our lead Dashwood, there’s a subtlety that’s executed wonderfully. Though she’s largely tamping down her feelings in the name of propriety, she’s never completely successful. There’s always something to be gleaned from a look or a facial tick, which the camera is always sure to capture. Likewise, George McKay perfectly mirrors her as Edward Ferrars, tasked with largely the same challenge. It is so delightfully frustrating to watch these two dance around their feelings and the complications that come with their own personal situations. It makes the moments when they do let their facades slip all the more powerful.
Creed-Miles gets to be much more outwardly emotional, but having personally only seen her in the Hanna TV show, it was quite a different role and one she played handily. Whatever emotion she needed me to feel, I did. I also found her specific courting journey to be particularly effective. When she’s happy or sad, I’m following suit. I really enjoyed all three Dashwood sisters’ performances, whether doing their own thing or interacting with each other. Which is why I was a little sad that Breathnach (Hamnet) gets (understandably) sidelined for a big chunk of the movie.
The rest of our colorful cast of characters are likewise memorable, none more so than Mrs. Jennings. Though she’s often used as the butt of a joke, the earnestness that at times can be purposefully grating gets its chance to shine through in a positive, knowing light that Shaw plays equally capably.
All this mixes together to give me a warm burst of serotonin. Are there moments when the dialogue can get slightly too melodramatic? Sure, but those moments are always fleeting.
As I’ve discovered my joy for these more modern adaptations, I can see why these have become comfort reads for many, even if my comfort read is more of a comfort viewing. Sense and Sensibility is the perfect theatrical experience as we enter the crisp autumn weather. Now where’s my stick blender? It’s soup season.
Rating: Loved It
Sense and Sensibility is currently available in theaters.
You can read more from Jake Bourgeois, and follow him on Bluesky and Letterboxd