There’s something a little frustrating about this new version of Sense and Sensibility. Directed by Georgia Oakley (Blue Jeans) from a screenplay by Diana Reid, the film is the latest take on Jane Austen’s 1811 novel, and to its credit, it does manage to feel new, which is no small task for a story that has already been adapted for the screen several times, most memorably in Ang Lee’s 1995 film. The acting and the visual style here are genuinely awe-inspiring. But for all its efforts to modernise Austen, this version never quite recaptures the warmth that made the Emma Thompson/Kate Winslet version so beloved.
The story follows sisters Elinor and Marianne Dashwood, who are left with little money and no home after their father’s death. Forced to rebuild their lives in a modest country cottage, the two navigate love, heartbreak and financial strife in very different ways: Elinor with careful restraint, Marianne with unguarded passion.
Their contrasting approaches to romance, particularly Elinor’s quiet attachment to Edward Ferrars and Marianne’s whirlwind entanglement with the dashing John Willoughby, form the emotional backbone of this adaptation.
Daisy Edgar-Jones is excellent as Elinor. She plays the role with a poise and restraint that make her feel like the quiet centre holding the whole film together, without ever overplaying it. Her emotions stay just below the surface throughout, which gives the character real authenticity rather than melodrama. George MacKay is equally strong as Edward Ferrars, and the two share a chemistry that is understated but effective. The film comes alive when Elinor and Edward are simply in a room together, not performing anything dramatic, just existing in each other’s company.
The trouble is that this latest adaptation can’t quite decide what it wants to be for the best part of its hefty 2 hours and 11 minutes running time. At times it seems to be reaching for a genuinely fresh interpretation of Austen, but the film doesn’t follow through on that impulse, leaving it suspended somewhere between a conventional period drama and a more contemporary, edgier retelling.
The heavily choreographed dance sequences are a good example of where that indecision gives way to something worse. They feel stilted and self-conscious, more like they’re trying to look cool than actually serving the story, and the effect only becomes more noticeable as the film goes on.
Taken as a whole, this Sense and Sensibility has real qualities to recommend it: the cinematography is genuinely impressive, and the two central performances are excellent. One must also respect the ambition to bring something new to a well-worn story. But if you look past Edgar-Jones and MacKay, you’ll find yourself wondering why this isn’t really working.
By the time the credits rolled, I found myself thinking fondly of the 1995 version, not because this new film is bad, but because it lacks that same sense of warmth and emotional generosity. There’s a coziness and sincerity to the Ang Lee film that this adaptation, for all its freshness, never quite manages to earn.
