I can’t say I’ve ever been a big fan of Austen’s Emma. It’s wonderful to teach, but on a personal level it leaves me cold--or it did until last night, when some friends and I sat down to watch the most recent adaptation of Emma on Masterpiece.
Quite simply, I loved it.
Emma is played by Romola Garai, who starred in the BBC version of Daniel Deronda as Gwendolyn Harleth, another nineteenth-century heroine in need of a good spanking. Garai was a brilliant casting choice. As in her portrayal of Gwendolyn, she plays Emma’s faults with relish while also making her endlessly fascinating. Garai’s Emma possesses just as much selfishness and snobbery as Austen’s heroine, but she, too, has her moments of grace and vulnerability. I was especially moved by how the filmmakers depict Emma walking forlornly through her home once her sister and Miss Taylor are married, each empty room—and all its vast space-- reminding her of the consequences of her successful matchmaking. Best of all, this Emma has lots of spunk. Her arguments with Knightley are simply glorious, the best part of the series thus far.
Mr. Knightley, as played by Jonny Lee Miller, is divine. Despite his early marriage to Angelina Jolie, Miller has the look and air of a man with good judgment, clarity of thought, and wisdom. And in his scenes with Emma—whether the two of them are arguing, reconciling, or holding their infant niece, we can see what a natural, inevitable couple they make. Miller and Garai may not look sixteen years apart in age (because they’re not), but who cares?
In contrast to the earthy hues of Cranford and its sequel Return to Cranford, this new Emma has a palette of soft greens, reds, and pinks: the colors of life and romance. It’s extraordinarily beautiful to watch, as if the world of Emma were a series of moving watercolors. Often, costume dramas can feel overwhelming, antique-shoppy, in their opulent beauty, but here—thanks to a delicate color scheme, uncluttered sets, and simple costuming—the film’s beauty seems as fresh as its heroine. This, indeed, is no country for old men (or women), and the airing of this new Emma on the heels of Cranford seems intentional.
Emma is replete with other, lovely touches too. The series begins with a montage of sequences showing little Emma, Jane Fairfax, and Frank Weston all losing their mothers to an untimely death. I liked this immediate yoking together of three rather disparate characters via backstory-- a backstory which also allows us to see Mr. Woodhouse’s brokenhearted response to his wife’s death, hauntingly registered in Michael Gambon’s face. In portraying this response, the film allows us to understand Woodhouse’s over-protectiveness and thus rescues him from caricature, something Austen herself didn’t do.
Rating: A!
I am delighted and honored to be your first "follower," Nancy! Your descriptions of the film's many strengths--the visuals and the acting, in particular-- are simply lovely.
ReplyDeleteI'll be teaching Emma next month, and I'm already looking forward to incorporating clips from this wonderful adaptation. One of my favorite lessons involves Austen's use of free indirect discourse; students feel rewarded when
they can detect the narrator's style blending with Emma's own voice. I seem to recall that, in the 1996 Andrew Davies version, the filmmakers incorporated many fantasy scenes to playfully reveal Emma's obsessive thought process. Episode 1 of this Emma used the daydreaming technique sparingly (just with the Jane/Dixon gossip, I think); as we keep
watching, I'll be looking for ways that we see and hear Emma's particular point of view.
Seeing Emma as a child who lost her mother certainly worked to established our sympathy for her and her father. I very much liked seeing the childhood connection established between Emma, Frank, and Jane F.
This prequel strategy may be one of Masterpiece's most successful (Remember the 2000 Oliver Twist, and Agnes in labor at the poorhouse?), allowing family connections to be fleshed out in a matter of minutes. Seeing Emma's mother--who is all but absent from the novel--was quite an innovation. And I loved the added level of motive to Mr. Woodhouse's protective behavior.
At the risk of sounding like a purist, I did feel that the dialogue suffered from being too compressed at time. One place in particular was Emma's conversation with Harriet about being an old maid, which is two full pages in the novel and rich with details in which Emma imagines herself devoting her time at fifty to honing her accomplishments, from reading to carpet-work. I also miss the particular cadence of Mr. Woodhouse's sentences, which are shortened here to quick warnings that cake is just plain "bad for the young." Have the filmmakers changed the vocabulary throughout to better suit a television audience who hasn't read a 19th century novel?
Professor West—teaching an Austen novel that’s not your favorite? How shocking! :)
ReplyDeleteI always rather liked Emma (or maybe, I always loved Knightley). Perhaps that comes from sticking up for her in class, against a vociferous chorus of voices who found her shallow and annoying. But I think that just makes her human. Anyway, I like Emma the book much better than some of Austen’s other novels, like Sense and Sensibility; in Emma, the characters may cause oodles of trouble for each other, but most of them are humorous or benign.
I too really liked the inclusion of the introduction in which we see young Emma, Frank, and Jane. For so much of the novel, Jane and Frank are defined by their absence, and it was somehow surprising to remember that, but for some reversals of fortune, they would have been raised in Highbury too, as Emma’s agemates. When I was first watching it, I was struck by how the narration sets us up to be sympathetic to Jane and Frank, who are ripped away from their families, and to be perhaps critical of Emma, who is self-absorbed because she has not had to leave her home. But upon more reflection, I think this version also shows us the lack that Emma experiences due to their departures. She plays by herself under the table, hearing stories of how perfect this little girl is who lives far away. How different would Emma be, if she and Jane had the chance to be friends? Would she have gotten further on her reading list? Would Jane be less reclusive?
This version is great for asking “what ifs,” and for showing all those scenes that are skipped over in so many productions, or even in the book itself. I have to admit to a fondness for “forgotten scenes,” those hinted at, or barely developed moments in books that almost give a deep new character revelation, but stop short of definition. Some of the best “forgotten scenes” in this production:
1) Showing the Bates in a nice, large house, not unlike Emma’s, and later, pairing Miss Bates barely keeping the fire going as she relates to her mother that Emma is on parish business (aka, visiting the poor). We are told in the book how the Bates have fallen from gentility, but never have I seen it so quickly, but starkly, driven home.
2) Following Mr. Knightley around. (Hooray!) We see Knightley visiting his brother and sister-in-law in London, giving advice and friendship to Robert Martin, and generally being an all-around great guy with a sense of humor and a knack for play. Relatedly, we also remember that Emma has a sister (oh, yeah, her), in more scenes.
3) I, too, loved how clearly Emma’s loneliness was displayed as she wanders the house after Miss Taylor’s marriage. (Nancy was mentioning Daniel Deronda—fun to see Jodhi May and Romola Garai together again, though happily not in love with the same man; I thought of D.D. during the piano playing scene too—Garai’s characters can never quite beat the competition.)
Overall, the best part o
f this adaptation is the hysterical, wonderful, lovely scenes between Knightley and Emma. So worth watching, just for that. [“Despite his early marriage to Angelina Jolie, Miller has the look and air of a man with good judgment, clarity of thought, and wisdom.” Haha, so true!]
A series of random impressions:
ReplyDeleteThis adaptation of Emma is beautiful to look at--and a sharp contrast to Return to Cranford, which reinforced the staid, stereotypical image of Masterpiece Theatre during the Alistair Cooke era with its drab palette. Emma, by contrast, feels fresh and modern. The interactions between Emma and Mr. Knightley remind me of Hollywood screwball comedies, and the costuming is swoon-worthy--I spotted at least three items of clothing that I'd love to wear. I'm actually wondering about the accuracy of the costuming--my knowledge of Victorian fashion as it actually was, not how it's reinterpreted by shops like Anthropologie, is a bit lacking!
I've been a fan of Jonny Lee Miller for a long time, and I watched many of his movies during a stint living in England, where DVDs were my only option, as none of us wanted to pay for a TV license. By far, my favorite role has always been his turn as Edmund Bertram in Patricia Rozema's "weird" Mansfield Park. There's particularly one scene that my girlfriends and I used to swoon about in undergrad: As Fanny Price is leaving Mansfield Park to return to her family in Portsmouth, JLM delivers the line "You don't know how much I shall...write to you" with just the most adorable quavering chin you've ever seen.
Oh, how we swooned! His proficiency for subtle facial gestures is equally on display in Emma--I especially liked the rapid blinking while Emma played the pianoforte. And I agree with Nancy, the verbal sparring between Emma and Knightley is the best part of the series, and that's a good thing, because without chemistry between these two characters, the whole narrative would fall flat!