SENSE AND SENSIBILITY A-
USA Great
Britain (136 mi) 1995
d: Ang Lee
Let me not to the
marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
─William Shakespeare, Sonnett
116, Sonnet 116 -
Shakespeare's Sonnets
Ang Lee, a Taiwanese director who acknowledged in interviews
to having never read the Jane Austen novel upon which this is based, may seem
like an odd choice to direct a British comedy of manners that is so thoroughly
ensconced in early 19th century literature, as it’s his first film shot
completely in English, as his first three efforts were shot in Mandarin Chinese,
yet he proves to be a worthy choice, an ardent admirer of casting sweeping
romance dramas in natural outdoor settings while retaining the poetic intimacy
of complex personal relationships, so superbly rendered both here and a decade
later in Brokeback
Mountain (2005), while remaining an advocate of self-restraint, a character
trait of the social period that is at the heart of the novel and film. Lee visited museums and art galleries for
visual ideas, turning to the British Romanticist landscape paintings of John
Constable and J.M.W Turner, where cinematographer Michael Coulter matched the
sweeping majesty of painterly compositions.
But like most British dramas, acting is the key ingredient, toned down
here to match the atmospheric mood of strict social constraint. Adapted by actress Emma Thompson, who spent
five years writing and revising a screenplay, which eventually won her an
Academy Award, she reshapes the novel by eliminating the narrator’s voice, which
is largely that of Austen herself, while incorporating the author’s keen
insights into the character of the elder sister, played, perhaps
unsurprisingly, by Emma Thompson. The
film, as the title indicates mirrors the interior lives of the two oldest Dashwood
sisters, Elinor and Marianne, Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet, who are ages 19
and 16 in the book, altered somewhat here to accommodate Thompson’s actual age
of 36, while Winslet was 19. Elinor’s
elder status reflects a sensible and more reserved personality, perhaps past
her marrying years, where she’s like a second mother looking after the
interests of others, demonstrating a sense of duty, as she’s already assuming
much of the responsibility when it comes to the behavior of the three sisters,
also including a precocious young 13-year old Margaret (Emilie François), while
the more indulgent and self-centered Marianne is allowed free expression of her
feelings, completely at odds with her elder sister, both showing a strong
intelligence, but Marianne accentuates her sensuous inclinations, singing songs
at the piano, reading poetry, while openly expressing her opinions and exhibiting
her love interests for all the world to see.
While they are decidedly different personalities, they couldn’t be
closer, often confessing their secrets to one another or seen sleeping in the
same bed. It’s an open question whether
one represents sense and the other sensibilities, or whether one triumphs over
the other by the end, as the narrative pits the interest of both women’s lives
happening simultaneously, each with their own romantic affairs, interweaving the
interior drama through a series of unfolding events, much of which is expressed
through letters. While the book was
published in 1811, the period in question is the last decade of the 18th
century, where the girls had a sizeable means of support until the sudden death
of the wealthy Henry Dashwood (Tom Wilkinson) near the beginning of the story,
where he makes his oldest son John (James Fleet), from his first marriage,
promise to look after the financial interests of his second wife, Lady Dashwood
(Gemma Jones) and her three daughters.
While he most assuredly makes a deathbed promise, his odious wife Fanny
(Harriet Walter) ultimately persuades him otherwise, offering them an annual
stipend, undermining their position socially and financially, as they are forced
to live below the means they have been accustomed to living. Suddenly unwelcome in her own home at Norland
Park, uprooted even from their bedrooms, Lady Dashwood is soon looking
elsewhere for a new place of residence. The
Austen novel highlights the precarious position women found themselves in the
19th century, where a sudden shift in financial circumstances could lead to
dire straits, completely altering one’s destiny. Accordingly, women had no status except
through marriage, where pressure was placed upon single women to marry into
society. Quickly moving into the
household is Fanny’s brother Edward Ferrars (Hugh Grant), a quietly sensitive,
overly shy and unassuming man (with almost no lines, so always appears ill at
ease) who has received the best education, but in keeping with the times has no
designs of immediate employment. This
idea that wealth is not earned but inherited through the firstborn male heir is
discussed at some length, even in conversation between Elinor and Edward, where
the options and restrictions are even more suffocating for women.
Elinor Dashwood: You talk of
feeling idle and useless. Imagine how that is compounded when one has no hope
and no choice of any occupation whatsoever.
Edward Ferrars: Our circumstances are therefore precisely the same.
Elinor Dashwood: Except that you will inherit your fortune. We cannot even earn ours.
Edward Ferrars: Our circumstances are therefore precisely the same.
Elinor Dashwood: Except that you will inherit your fortune. We cannot even earn ours.
Lady Dashwood delays her plans, as Elinor quickly develops
an attachment to Edward, where the two seem happy and well-suited, which Fanny
soon notices and voices her disapproval, interrupting any time they spend
together, eventually sending him away to London to prevent anything further
from developing, an act that literally crushes Elinor’s spirit, but she refuses
to show any emotion, especially to the spiteful Fanny, who naturally assumes
the interest is motivated only by money rather than love. This is a perfect example of Fanny’s
narrow-minded crudeness, which stands in stark contrast to the more
free-spirited lives of the Dashwood sisters, who were largely moved by Edward’s
affection shown to young Margaret, winning her heart in the process as well,
where she has a hard time dealing with his absence. This generates a pattern of mysteriously
absent men and the more accessible women, where the men are viewed almost as
fantasy figures, gallant, elegant, and dashing, like the handsome prince in the
fairy tales, where they remain somewhat sketchy and out of the action, often
figuring into the humor of the occasion, while the women are more fully
realized characters. Unlike men, social
standing is attained only through marriage, where there’s an unwritten,
underlying desire to marry these women off to the best possible suitor, where
prospective men are often judged like livestock at a county fair. In this manner, the bloom of their youth is
easily the most impressive aspect of the film, where they are expected to lose
themselves to the wonders of nature, where their intelligence and charm
couldn’t be more appealing. However, the
film doesn’t really get going until Marianne comes of age. Her introduction, however, is on the amusing
side, as we see her playing a depressing song on the piano soon after the death
of her father, where Elinor asks her to kindly play something a little less
depressing, so she breaks into an even more depressing dirge, a wonderful way
to establish character without uttering a single word. At the urging of a distant cousin, Lady Dashwood
moves her family to Barton Cottage in Devonshire, where the quaint home lacks
many of the conveniences, much fewer servants, but they are welcomed by Sir
John Middleton (Robert Hardy), almost always seen accompanied by a brood of
hounds, and introduced into society by his loquacious mother-in-law Mrs.
Jennings (Elizabeth Spriggs), a women abounding in rumor and local gossip,
whose social currency is hearsay, having the privilege of spreading it often
and with great pleasure, as if this is her greatest joy, constantly making public
innuendos about the available Dashwood women, which is seen as much as an act
of friendship as a constant irritant throughout. Into their lives walks Colonel Brandon (Alan
Rickman), a friend and comrade of Sir John during the British military escapade
into India, arriving by horseback as Marianne can be heard singing at the
piano, where he’s immediately smitten by her.
Marianne, however, is not at all pleased, despite the matchmaking
intervention by Mrs. Jennings, as he’s more than twice her age, an honorable
man of wealth and reputation where the formality of his noble conduct appears
overly rigid. It doesn’t stop him from
bringing flowers, however, where his perfect diction and pronunciation is
legendary, initially used as comic relief, appearing and disappearing from the
frame, often at full gallop, always excusing himself from her presence, as it’s
clear he hasn’t her full attention. When
Marianne and Margaret go running through the hillside in one of the more
wondrous outdoor scenes, they get caught in a downpour of rain where Marianne
slips and turns her ankle. Who should
arrive, cutting a dashing figure on his white horse, like some kind of
apparition, but the debonair John Willoughby (Greg Wise, who was having an affair
with Thompson during the shooting and eventually married), a neighbor who sees
the accident and carries her in his arms back to the safety of her home. Marianne’s rush of elation can’t be
contained, where despite Colonel Brandon’s best efforts, they are all for
naught, as she only has eyes for Willoughby.
The ensuing romance takes place in public view, where
neither hides their enthusiasm at seeing one another, where they laugh and
giggle with delight in each other’s company, distraught during temporary
absences, literally pining away the lost moments until the exuberance returns
when they can be together again, sharing common interests in poetry, music,
art, and love. Austen highlights the
erotic aspect of Marianne and Willoughby’s relationship, which contrasts strongly
with Elinor and Edward’s reserved relationship, where Elinor warns her sister
about flaunting their affair so openly. Marianne,
however, insists that’s the beauty of love, surrendering to it in all its
glory, continually feeling overwhelmed by the indescribable joy and passion it
brings. Her euphoria reaches a peak at the
moment she believes a proposal is coming, but instead Willoughby’s family is
sending him off to London on business, expected to be gone indefinitely. Unprepared for the about face, Marianne is
completely distraught, retreating to her room in tears where she remains
inconsolable and the entire household may as well be in a state of
mourning. Even Edward pays a visit, but
appears nervously standoffish, uncomfortably ill at ease, exiting almost as
soon as he arrives, leaving Elinor to surmise the visit was one of pity and
sense of duty rather than any genuine interest, where she’s forced to submerge
her feelings once again. Making matters
worse, two of the Middleton relatives arrive on the scene, Charlotte Palmer
(Imelda Staunton), an uneducated blabbermouth whose enthusiasm for gossip
rivals that of her mother Mrs. Jennings, while her ever dour husband (Hugh
Laurie) detests every lame thought coming out of her head, where their picture
of marriage is one of utter disaster, and also a cousin Lucy Steele (Imogen
Stubbs), who inadvertently reveals to Elinor in strict confidence that she’s
been having a secret four-year engagement to Edward Ferrars, dishing out the
lurid details every moment they’re together, talking her ear off revealing
personal secrets, where Elinor begins to understand Edward’s reticence during
the last visit, but is overwhelmed by the disastrous consequences of a possible
future literally pulled out from under her.
With both Dashwood sisters down on their luck, leave it to Mrs. Jennings
to revive some of the lost magic, inviting Elinor and Marianne to London where
she’ll stir the pot of fate once again.
As Marianne unleashes her hopes at seeing Willoughby once again, Elinor
couldn’t be more guarded and reserved, lost in a resigned acceptance of what
has transpired. Despite a flurry of
letters from Marianne that go unanswered, the parties meet at an extravagant
social ball where Marianne’s unbridled enthusiasm is met with a cold dismissal,
leaving her devastated to find Willoughby with another woman. While the sisters console one another about
their lost loves, Elinor finally has someone to share her sense of outright
exasperation, though Marianne is shocked to learn that her seemingly
levelheaded sister has been as emotionally blindsided and traumatized as she has,
but never showed even a hint of despair, impressing her immensely. Colonel Brandon fills in the salacious
details about Willoughby’s fall from grace, forced to marry for money instead
of love, while Edward is disinherited after his refusal to break off his
engagement with Lucy, believing it is the only honorable thing to do. Out of gentlemanly respect, Brandon offers
Edward a living under the protection of a church
parsonage. Still wallowing in her
emotional despair, Marianne is once again caught wandering out in the rain,
where it is the older Colonel Brandon who must harrowingly carry her for miles
back to safety, falling gravely ill with pneumonia, where she’s literally at
death’s door, nursed back to health by a patient and obliging Colonel Brandon,
finally gaining his due. Edward visits
as well, revealing Lucy left him for his brother Robert (Richard Lumsden) and
his ample inheritance, leaving his heart free to pursue Elinor, who is so taken
aback she falls into a state of complete shock, unleashing her long pent-up
emotions in a gusher of tears. Once
again, the two sisters are cared for, united in love and marriage, with
Willoughby on his white steed looking on enviously from the nearby hillside
wondering what could have been.