Early on in Georgia Oakley’s “Sense and Sensibility,” the most recent adaptation of Jane Austen’s beloved 1811 novel, Marianne Dashwood (played by Esmé Creed-Miles) finishes off a list of non-negotiables she’s looking for in a husband with the potent summation: “I require so much.” It’s played as a bit of joke — rightly, for even though we’ve just met her, we can tell that Marianne wears her emotions quite visibly compared to her older sister, Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones), who, by order of birth and countenance, keeps her preferences in check.
It’s a handsome film, richly costumed and gorgeously lit. (Have we finally left behind the visual dull-ification of period pieces? Huge, if true.) Performances range from competent to smoldering. The script, credited to Diana Reid, understands and weaponizes Austen’s humor in smart, serviceable ways. And yet — like Marianne — I, too, require so much. More than, perhaps, this movie is capable of giving.
To start: rich Mr. Dashwood has died, leaving his wife (Caitriona Balfe of “Outlander” renown) and daughters without suitable means; by law their house passes to his son, John, who might do well by his half-sisters were it not for his wife Fanny, who is more concerned with counting the silver and cataloging the vases. Here we’re introduced to Fanny’s brother, Edward Ferrars (George MacKay, with the posture of a man unsure if he’s going to clear any given doorway and a face from a time that can’t possibly have ever seen a TV). Elinor and Edward are immediately drawn together — two magnets of quiet emotion and implied hand flexes (if you know, you know). They skip stones and sit for drawings and break our hearts a wee bit on a bench in a museum.
With few options available (Margaret, the youngest sister portrayed by Bodhi Rae Breathnach, was right: try to marry rich), the Dashwood ladies depart their home for a small cottage owned by their cousin (or a cousin of a cousin), Mrs. Jennings, played by the great Fiona Shaw with all the shrieking laughter and effervescence the busybody character deserves.
As they settle into their new life, Austen’s tale offers two men for Marianne’s consideration: the serious Colonel Brandon (an impeccably named and coiffed Herbert Nordrum) and Willoughby (Frank Dillane), who rescues Marianne after a fall on the beach. Another acquaintance of Mrs. Jennings, Lucy Steele, also joins the party, harboring a secret connection to Edward Ferrars she’s all-too-willing to divulge to Elinor.
Austen doesn’t concern herself with hijnks, not in the traditional sense. Some things should be said that aren’t; some intimations are shared that shouldn’t be. Love is thwarted at several turns, realized at others. There is, at one juncture, a duel; at another, a ball. Hilltop yelling in the rain commences. Many sighs, much yearning.
There is, however, an imbalance at play. We’re not given enough time with the Dashwoods and the suitors to become overly smitten or heartbroken by any of them, and Creed-Miles can’t quite convince us on her own. We know Brandon is upstanding because we are told, and we know Willoughby is a cad because the whiny ones always are. Among the performances, it’s hard to take your eyes off MacKay, lest you miss one of the dozen micro-emotions he shuffles through on his way to steadfast. Edgar-Jones, who won our hearts and depressed our brains in the 2020 miniseries “Normal People,” acquits herself well enough — particularly in scenes where she’s allowed to rage. In truth, the main problem with the film isn’t how the romances progress but the utter lack of believable sisterly connection and affection between Edgar-Jones and Creed-Miles.
Eight paragraphs into this review seems like the right time for the last great “Sense and Sensibility,” Ang Lee’s 1995 Oscar-winning gem, to enter the chat. As that film’s Elinor and Marianne, respectively, Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet offer a masterclass in embodying on-screen sisterhood. Their sidelong glances to one another in crowded rooms of unbearable company are allowed to breathe. We bear witness to the ways they know each other deeply and with such specificity, both out loud in conversation and in quiet moments, as heads are laid on shoulders or hair is braided. It may be unfair to hold this latest adaptation in comparison, but it’s also inevitable. The sisters’ relationship is the backbone of the story (to paraphrase Greta Gerwig’s “Lady Bird”: they’re the titular roles!). Whether through performance or direction (or both), Oakley’s film doesn’t quite find the proper support.
But in the end, all is not lost. The oft-mentioned rain (a running joke) stops, and the sun comes out. Hearts are mended, age gaps are ignored and we are offered the promise of happily ever afters. Early on, all Elinor is capable of expressing to Marianne about Edward is that she thinks very highly of him. That she greatly esteems him. That she likes him. Of this film, I’d say about the same.
Johanna Lester is a pop culture critic who mainlines movies, TV and the best cookies Rochester has to offer. She’ll also hold that grudge on your behalf. Follow her @theauntjojo.
