MindsBase

So, the other night I was sorely lacking in Netflix movies, so I thumbed through my well-worn personal collection, and trumped out the Hollywood version of Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice.

I own this movie, yes. I also hate it.

Or, I did hate it when I first saw it. But since I love the story (like every other English-speaking pansy) I thought I’d better let it rest and try it again later. And yes, on subsequent viewings, I’ve hated it LESS, but I still hate the poor movie as though it has personally injured me.

Why, I asked myself upon this latest viewing. I shouldbe able to rationally dissect it after a handful of viewings, shouldn’t I? Why do I have such a visceral reaction to it?

Here are some thoughts:

1. Elizabeth — is poorly cast. Now, I’ve liked Keira Knightly in other roles — she makes a great Elizabeth Swan, so she’s not inappropriate for period dramas (did I just call Pirates of the Carribean a period drama? Ho ho ho!) But why on earth did the poor woman think that spunk meant baring one’s teeth and looking as cat-like as possible. Her performance lacked elegance. Elizabeth Bennet was not brash, just spirited. This distinction is important to the story because she contrasts her ridiculous family (as well as her elegant but demure elder sister — a delicate balance).
2. Darcy — is poorly cast. Okay, I had to look up Matthew Macfadyen to see what else he’s done, so obviously I’m not an MI-5 fan. Maybe his fans were pleased. And I’m not saying it’s easy to reprise the role that made Colin Firth an immortal sex symbol. But all his mannerisms seemed off to me. He helps her into the carriage, then, upon walking away, splays out his fingers like he’s trying to shake off something disgusting. Maybe he’d gently stroke the tips of his fingers with his thumb, re-enacting the touch of her hand? Maybe he’d clasp his hands together in front of his face, bringing her touch to his own lips. Splayed fingers, not working for me. The pasty mask that was supposed to be shy indifference didn’t work for me, either.
3. Other castings — oh dear. Mr. Bingley is not a buffoon! Mr. Collins is not a serial killer! But I best move on…
4. Dialogue — Why is everyone in such a hurry to say their lines? Are they trying to fit a three hour movie into two hours? Apparently. Yikes. Slow down, people.
5. Beauty — the film lost something of the art of Jane’s book. Something the 1995 BBC version captured. I get it — they were trying to differentiate the public assembly dance from the Netherfield ball, but the assembly came off dirty and chaotic. Dude, I would thumb my nose if I were Darcy! Yet in this scene we are supposed to side with Elizabeth.

But here’s the real problem with this version: The Screenplay!The credited writer is Deborah Moggach who has no other notable credits, but as is often the case with Hollywood, the compromised story and affected dialogue may not be her fault… it may have been a case of too many cooks in the kitchen.

The thing is, you can’t rush a character story. You can’t fit all the scenes from the book into two hours and make any of them feel genuine and nuanced, subtle and understated. Pride and Prejudice is over 120,000 words long. Harry Potter six had to hack it to the bone to display 170,000 words onscreen… but then I think they’ll bleed over some key points into HP7. But I digress.

Lesson to be learned: Writing is important! A good screenplay is like the first domino. When it falls, everything down the line suffers. And it’s really hard to adapt a well-woven character story into a two-hour narrative. When adapting a classic you have this ugly desire to be “faithful” to the book. I’d rather see them be true to the spirit of the book than to the actual scenes. They tried, with P&P, but ultimately I think they failed. You don’t love Elizabeth’s spunk, you don’t admire Darcy’s reserve, you don’t laugh at Mr. Collins or understand Charlotte’s choice. Wickham and Georgiana become cardboard and don’t feel important to the plot, and poor Bingley is truly cringe-worthy. Jane and her parents survive rather well, as does Lydia. Lady Catherine is given too much screen time, presumably to play her role in the reversal of fortune at the end, but frankly the stronger motivator of reconciliation is what Darcy does for Lydia. Not that I would change the book one iota. But a film is not a book.

I give the Hollywood version of Pride and Prejudice a paltry two nods:

Last night, feeling the void where a great period adaptation should be, I put on Little Women. Ahhhh. Need satisfied*.

* To be fair, Pride and Prejudice is a longer novel than Little Women by 30,000 words.

Now, to end on a sweet note:

–Pride and Prejudice, 1995, BBC adaptation

I had a dream last night that one of my friends’ family was coming to visit me (on a tropical island where I lived) when I got a phone call saying that they had all been killed in a plane crash.

In the dream, I sunk to my knees and began to sob. Then I shook myself awake, out of the dream, but I still felt racked with emotion and guilt for inviting her to visit me on my island.

Couldn’t shake the feeling all morning. Don’t you hate that?

But its interesting, isn’t it, what things come out of our subconscious minds and how they affect our lives. I wonder what worries, or expectations, or preconditions we carry around with us that impair our ability to be happy and successful? If my worries are leaking into a dream, they must be somewhere buried inside me. And they probably have nothing to do with worries about plane crashes or this particular friend. Dreams — mine, at least — are abstract at least, and metaphorical at most…

Or maybe I’m just playing out story ideas while off-the-clock.

Here’s an LA Times post about the significance of dreams >>