Quiet and Forgettable? Sense and Sensibility Doesn’t Hit the Mark
Georgia Oakley’s Sense and Sensibility is a gentle, languid love affair rather than a pacy Regency romp. It does not deliver on the punchy tagline: ‘being agreeable never did a woman any good.’
What Oakley has created is more pensive and organic than Ang Lee’s iconic adaptation. It is perhaps better suited to a more brooding Phoebe Bridgers-listening, Sally Rooney-reading generation than its 1995 predecessor. Even the press response has seemed muted, with little to no divisive opinions or strong emotions. Much more sense than sensibility, if you will.
I loved inhabiting Georgia Oakley’s serene, idyllic world for 131 minutes. Having said this, the premise of Austen's novel has sisters Marianne and Elinor Dashwood effectively penniless upon the passing of their father and, in reality, being left with nary a penny to your name in Jane Austen’s England would have caused devastation. The stakes did not feel appropriately high in this adaptation, and thus it can only be said that Oakley’s idyll is less than faithful to Austen’s creation.
What really shone in Edgar Jones’ interpretation of Elinor was her small moments of absolute sincerity and vulnerability. Though she may have spoken about her love interest, Edward Ferrars, in less than ecstatic terms to others, we see the familiar pain, confusion and even embarrassment of love make their way through in moments of quietude. While she may not have had Emma Thompson’s command and possessed less of an authoritative presence, Edgar Jones was convincing and arguably felt more authentic.
I would, however, very much agree with Peter Bradshaw’s pithy comment that the sisters ‘look like young women who knew each other reasonably well at uni and are now in a flatshare in London’. There was none of the laughter, secretive communication or aggravation that so often characterises sisterhood. Edgar Jones and Creed-Miles were as believable at playing sisters as Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic 2 (and this is very much not a compliment).
What casting director Kharmel Cochrane got absolutely right was casting Edward Ferrars and Willoughby. George Mackay’s Edward possessed a quiet charisma that came from his earnest and gentle portrayal. He was not as bumbling as Hugh Grant, not so saccharine or irresolute.
Frank Dillane is perhaps the superior Willoughby to Greg Wise in that he did not appear as a classic rake with bad intentions but a potently charming yet deeply careless man in his twenties. I would, however, suggest that Colonel Brandon (Herbert Nordrum) came across as brooding to the point of boring. Rather than a gallant but reserved member of the militia, he possessed the timidity of a clergyman.
Overall, I would say that though Oakley’s adaptation harnessed the beauty of pastoral England, it felt transportive but not affecting. The miscommunications, feuds and challenges did not elicit a cortisol spike by any stretch of the imagination. This will not be a must-watch classic but was a delightful attempt at committing Austen’s beloved novel to celluloid. Dare I say, lovely but forgettable.
Zoë Paddock
Image via Focus Features
