For several months now, I have been greatly intrigued by the 1995 BBC / A&E miniseries Pride and Prejudice.
The curiosity that I, Erin Elizabeth, experienced thanks to the hearty
recommendations of my good friend Elisabeth was finally sated this week,
courtesy of another close friend... by the name of Elizabeth. It would
seem that fate was aligned in my favor, drawing me to yet another
Elizabeth, this one pre-dating us all by a couple of centuries.
It is through the eyes of Elizabeth Bennet (Jennifer Ehle) that we watch Jane Austen's classic novel
unfold, and it is much the same in this five-hour mini-series, though
we do occasionally catch a glimpse of scenes in which the second-eldest
of the Bennett daughters plays no part. A quick-witted, free-spirited
girl of about 20, she enjoys the close companionship of her older sister
Jane (Susannah Harker) and the special affections of her father
(Benjamin Whitrow), with whom she shares a sly sense of humor. While the
dearest wish of her well-meaning but overdramatic, busy-bodyish mother
(Alison Steadman) is to have all five of her daughters married off to
men of fortune as quickly as possible, Elizabeth doesn't seem too
anxious to take a walk down the aisle, and if she does, she'd prefer to
go tumbling head over heels.
That's not to say she isn't
practical. She's simply seen all too closely the pitfalls of a
passionless marriage thanks to her parents, and she's horrified by her
no-nonsense friend Charlotte's (Lucy Scott) suggestion that Jane turn on
the charm to secure the rich Charles Bingley (Crispin Bonham-Carter),
who seems to have taken quite a liking to her. Not that Elizabeth
dislikes him; indeed, in all her dealings with him, she has found him to
be as generous and good-natured as his sister Caroline (Anna
Chancellor) is snobby and uncivil. She simply doesn't think marriage is
something to be rushed into.
At least she knows for herself
exactly what sort of men to avoid in her courtships. Men like Mr.
Collins (David Bamber), the awkward, self-righteous clergyman who will
inherit her father's estate upon his death. This cousin of hers is prone
to making long speeches on tedious subjects, his favorite of which is
his overbearing patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh (Barbara
Leigh-Hunt), and all the material delights of her estate. In fact, it is
his devotion to this woman that drives him to ask Elizabeth's hand in
marriage, since she indicated that he ought to find himself a wife and
since he thinks the proper thing would be to marry someone in the family
so the house will not be lost to the Bennets after all. It's a nice
thought, but not at all worth the torment it would bring Elizabeth to
have such a man for a husband.
Worse than Mr. Collins, who is
too ridiculous for her to take too seriously, is Fitzwilliam Darcy
(Colin Firth), the darkly handsome friend of Mr. Bingley who snubs
Elizabeth upon their first meeting, who verbally spars with her when
they meet again at Bingley's home, who convinces the impressionable
Bingley that his affections for Jane are not returned, who evidently is
responsible for the ruination of the career aspirations of George
Wickham (Adrian Lukis), the charming officer Elizabeth warms to. Yes,
the deck is stacked against Darcy despite his vast wealth, so when he
approaches her with a wholly unexpected marriage proposal that is as
unromantic in its own way as Mr. Collins', Elizabeth balks. It's only
after this, the midway point in the mini-series, that Elizabeth begins
to suspects she may have misjudged Darcy...
Even those
unfamiliar with the story must suspect that there is more to Darcy than a
dour countenance and a terse tongue. In his star-making role, Firth
boasts icy features the first couple of times we meet him, but there is
fire in his subsequent exchanges with Elizabeth. There's a sense that
while he may find Elizabeth frustrating, he also is invigorated by her,
finding in her spirited demeanor and unapologetic wit a refreshing
change from Caroline, who never learns that undercutting Elizabeth is
not the way to win Darcy's favor. We watch his behavior toward her
change subtly; we see the hurt in his eyes when she rejects his offer to
dance, the admiration when he gazes at her as she plays and sings for
Lady Catherine, who happens to be Darcy's aunt.
Indeed, while
Darcy marvels over the beauty of Elizabeth's eyes, his are even more
arresting, communicating the depths of his soul as effectively as any of
his meticulously chosen words. Firth reminds me of Christopher Plummer,
whose eyes are stern and flinty for the first half of The Sound of Music
but gradually soften as Captain Von Trapp falls in love with Maria,
until they melt into a misty puddle when he finally blurts out, "You
can't marry someone... when you're in love with someone else." The
comparable moment in Pride and Prejudice has to be when Darcy
stares dreamily at Elizabeth as she turns the pages of sheet music for
his sister Georgiana (Emilia Fox), thus distracting the delicate young
woman from the mortifying comments of Caroline. A mutual regard for
Georgiana, to say nothing of the awkward but blissful opportunity for a
new start their accidental meeting has afforded, seems to have deepened
Darcy's affections and awakened Elizabeth's.
Beyond the eyes,
we get several little moments that show the depths of Darcy's discomfort
in finding himself unable to resist Elizabeth's charms, later
compounded by her rejection. Twice we see him submerge himself in water -
once in a tub, once in a pond, both times evidently to douse the
improper passion burning inside him. On other occasions we see him
engaging in various elite sporting activities, again seeming to need a
physical outlet to distract himself from emotional pain. (I couldn't
help but think of Lex Luthor
in a couple of scenes; what is it with rich, inscrutable guys and
billiards and fencing?) His character is always revealed one tiny bit at
a time, and the reserve he demonstrates around Elizabeth is such that
his dismissal of Jane as disinterested in Bingley is not only
presumptuous, it seems hypocritical. How can such a deep man make such
shallow judgments?
If only Bingley were not so easily
persuaded - though his reliance on Darcy at least means that his friend
can undo the damage his meddling has wrought. For as much as I adore
Darcy, I'm equally smitten with his closest friend, who is always
diplomatic, courteous and cheerful. He's the sort of fellow who lights
up a room when he walks in, and he's perfectly matched to optimistic,
altruistic Jane, who can't help but see the best in everyone, even if
such kindness is undeserved. Bonham-Carter conveys Bingley's generous
nature wonderfully; while these two men may be very different from each
other, it's hard to say which sister gets the better end of the deal.
Steadman is a tour de force as Mrs. Bennet, always chattering away in
the most animated fashion, wringing her hands, caterwauling comically,
conniving whenever a marriage prospect appears within reach, petulantly
bemoaning the unfairness of it all when her schemes don't quite work
out. Whitrow's humor is drier; he doesn't speak half as much as his wife
does, yet nearly every sentence out of his mouth is a zinger, a triumph
of sarcasm whose meaning is usually missed by its target but not an
astute audience. There is almost always a twinkle in his eyes and
dimples in his cheeks; he can't hide them no matter how cross he tries
to appear. And for all his laughter at his family's expense, Mr. Bennet
does feel genuine, if fleeting, remorse for the disaster his poor
planning could wreak upon his daughters if they fail to marry during his
lifetime. Whenever he was on screen, I paid especially careful
attention, and my diligence never failed to be rewarded with his
dialogue, always delivered with impeccable comic timing.
Smaller characters add further flavoring to the mini-series. Chief among
them is Lydia (Julia Sawalha), the youngest Bennet whose imprudent
entanglement with Wickham (whose later exchanges with Elizabeth are
pricklingly uncomfortable) toward the end sets into motion the fruition
of Elizabeth's blooming desires. Sawalha is a boisterous bundle of
giggles whose impish face reminded me strikingly of Billy Boyd, who
portrayed mischievous Pippin in The Lord of the Rings.
She runs around the house making breathless, silly exclamations. She
finds everything to be a joke - except for anything that comes out of
the mouth of her older sister Mary (Lucy Briers). These statements are
always met with the most exaggeratedly exasperated of sighs. While the
audible reaction is another indication of Lydia's immaturity, Mary's
Debbie Downer demeanor is a bit much for anyone to take. She truly seems
to relish being miserable, and she tries to spread that wealth around
as much as possible with her constant moralizing and her insistence on
providing the musical entertainment at every party, despite her mediocre
skill and her refusal to play anything that could be remotely
considered fun. Poor Kitty (Polly Maberly) is wedged between these two
sisters, and as she functions mainly as a shadow for Lydia, we scarcely
notice her whenever her little sister is on screen. By the time she gets
a bit of time for herself, we're much too engaged in the affairs of the
other Bennets to pay much attention.
Then there is the wide
assortment of friends and neighbors: jovial Sir William Lucas
(Christopher Benjamin), whose delight in observing youthful joys and
engaging in a bit of match-making calls to mind Sense and Sensibility's
Sir John Middleton; Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner (Tim Wylton and Joanna
David), the kindly uncle and aunt who are responsible for Elizabeth's
life-changing visit to Pemberley, Darcy's estate; Mr. Hurst (Rupert
Vansittart), Bingley's Neanderthal of a brother-in-law, who scarcely
opens his mouth if not to snore or grunt out something
semi-intelligible; Maria Lucas (Lucy Davis), Charlotte's good-natured
sister who adores Elizabeth and is awed but intimidated by Lady
Catherine, whom the two often visit during their stay with the now
Charlotte Collins; and several others.
Andrew Davies' script
relies heavily upon Austen's own dialogue, which is a good thing since
that is where her wit shines brightest. We're treated to many heated
exchanges as well as lines spoken away from the bustle of a crowded cast
of characters, where comparative silence increases the impact of words
uttered with quiet conviction. It's easy to tell where each of the six
installments ends, which gives a better appreciation for how well-paced
it is, with each segment introducing an important element.
The
cinematography is wonderful; we understand why Mrs. Gardiner is so in
love with the untamed beauty of this particular section of English
countryside. I often found myself wistfully wishing I could step into
that world for a few hours and "take a turn" through the wind-swept
grass with Elizabeth. Carl Davis' pianoforte-driven score, meanwhile,
adds a lovely sprightly tone to many scenes, capturing the energy of the
diverse group of characters.
Pride and Prejudice is
five hours of supreme entertainment, an outstanding adaptation of one of
the most beloved novels in English literature. I think Miss Austen
would be very impressed. This Erin Elizabeth sure is.
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