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December 13, 2005
Novel vs. film; the answer to Pride and Prejudice
Film and literature have always had a love/hate relationship, and it’s probably because film is generally regarded as literature’s more popular, less talented younger sibling.
People turn out in droves for films year after year (whereas publishers struggle to find anything outside of Harry Potter that people will stand in line for), yet one of the most-clichéd phrases regarding movies I’ve ever heard is “the book was better.”
The argument is with literature, one can more easily assess the inner-workings of one’s mind, the text
version of a story is much fuller. This is certainly the case with the recent version of Pride and Prejudice.
For those unfamiliar with the story, this is the tale of five sisters, Elizabeth Bennett chief among them, who are scouting around for husbands. The film clocks in at a little more than two hours, which would normally be enough for a romantic comedy, but since this is one of the greatest love stories ever told, it could have done with a little more length.
As it was so short, valuable subplots had to be trimmed, including that of the wily Mr. Wickham, for whom Elizabeth (Keira Knightley) develops a fondness. In the movie, the attraction seems to be instant and can only last for a few interludes, and so one cannot see why Elizabeth, the otherwise brainiest of the sisters, could be smitten with such an obviously loathsome character.
The film also does a rather tired approach to the book. Since everyone who has hit a theater in the last decade is familiar with the world of Austen, there is no need to explain the land of the thousand corsets, but it would have been a little nicer if the talented cast had sunk into their characters a bit harder. Donald
Sutherland looks like he’s on Novocain as the father, giving his lines and then sauntering off into the background, as if he’s confused over what movie he’s making. Brenda Blethyn does her batty British mother routine, but she just can’t conjure up the laughs that she’s striving for, seemingly missing many of the punchlines amidst her physical comedy.
Only Judi Dench rises to the occasion (what a casting coup this was with Dench as the snobbish Lady Catherine de Bourg), spiting everyone in her way. For example, in the scene where Elizabeth tells off Lady Catherine is completely unrealistic, as we know that in an alley fight Dench would be able to take down wimpy little Keira Knightley.
So, does this mean that books can’t be improved on? Absolutely not, as anyone who caught an earlier version of Pride and Prejudice a decade ago can attest.
The BBC miniseries starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle has every nuance of Austen’s books: elegance, wit, plot, and spunk, and yet it is so stylish and polished, it improves upon the book in that it can smoothly
transition from plot point to plot point while giving more insight into the mystery of Mr. Darcy, making Elizabeth’s love/hate relationship with him all the more apparent. It’s easily one of the best things that television has ever produced and even Austen purists will say it is a flawless adaptation.
So instead of catching the version du jour, go out and rent the definitive edition; I promise it’ll be the best book you’ve ever watched.
Posted by msveum at December 13, 2005 12:57 PM
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