Sense And Sensibility Review : Georgia Oakley's Austen Riff Is A Winsome Celebration Of Sisterhood

Jane Austen continues to speak vividly to our times. Her 1811 novel Sense and Sensibility met a brilliant, beloved match in Ang Lee’s 1995 benchmark adaptation with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet. The challenge Georgia Oakley must have experienced while mounting her new adaptation is immense. But, for the most part, she conjures a drama of such freshness, buoyancy and emotional churn you can overlook the minor bumps, few jarring choices.

The heart of Sense and Sensibility is in the dynamic between the two Dashwood sisters, Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones), and Marianne (Esme Creed-Miles). Elinor is buttoned-up, Marianne is zesty. The youngest sister, Margaret (Bodhi Rae Breathnach), doesn’t intrude too much on the narrative, but she doesn’t miss a shot at putting things in perspective. They get along spectacularly and cannot dream of a life without the other. But the Dashwood family is flung into financial instability and disarray with the father’s death. The family estate is handed over to the half-brother, whose wife, Fanny (Stacy Martin), isn’t keen to be generous to the sisters and their mother (Caitriona Balfe). So, the sisters and the mother are forced to stay in Fanny’s good books, though the latter never hides her distaste towards them. She sees them as an unnecessary strain on her husband’s resources.

Elinor gravitates to Fanny’s brother, Edward (George MacKay), who drops by. The two strike an effortless bond. But social conventions dictate that the relationship has to constantly negotiate the question of money. Fanny doesn’t mask her spite and acute disfavour of the sisters straggling for love. From the sidelines, she attacks them for being on the lookout for rich partners to net, who can rescue them from penury. Marianne, on the other hand, is caught between two men, Colonel Brandon (Herbert Nordrum) and Willoughby (Frank Dillane wielding high charm). Initially, Marianne finds Brandon too mild-tempered. She cannot stomach his lack of passion, his muted spirit. Willoughby seems more attractive, one readier to sweep her off her feet. She is hungry for someone to measure up to the velocity of her ardour. But she too will grow to lean back on the sedate reliability of Brandon. Heartbreak can bring some wisdom with it too, as long as the individual is prepared to welcome the vital realisations.

This film is a bouquet of small, warm pleasures. There are sharp dualities between Elinor and Marianne. If one is an exemplar of propriety and restraint, the other is all fiery passion. Marianne isn’t one to cloak or cut down on her feelings as her sister is inclined to. She lives and expresses intensely, even as Elinor insists on moderation and reining in impulses. Edgar-Jones and Creed-Miles are absolutely wonderful, riffing on clashing energies, as Elinor and Marianne tease, console each other. Their performances are incredibly lived-in. Oakley pulls abundant emotional complexity from all the heartburn and distress that striate women’s relationships in Jane Austen's Regency England. Arnaud Potier’s camerawork lights up a deeply grounded, sensitive drama where emotions have to be put in check. Elinor is too self-possessed, wary of her dignity being encroached, whereas Marianne is desperate to submit fully to the throes of romance even while it leaves her scathed.

Intriguingly, Oakley chooses to sidestep the lovers. Yes, there are ample misunderstandings. Elinor and Edward are clearly meant for each other. She yearns for him to make the move, declare the love that hums between them. But he’s too bashful. Edgar-Jones and MacKay dial up the sexual tension in the moments where both the lovers are eager to surrender to each other yet hold themselves back. Oakley demonstrates a fine grip over the emotional temperature of not just these exchanges, but also the thrashing, jolting spate that gradually transforms both Elinor and Marianne. Thankfully, the film also retains the wit and humour characteristically Austenian. Fiona Shaw is a hoot as Mrs Jennings, who takes Elinor and Marianne under her wing in London as she's confident in marrying them off.

Stealing the film, Creed-Miles scorches the screen with the heat of her emotion, the anger and hurt and humiliation in her eyes. Sense And Sensibility blooms as long as Elinor and Marianne occupy the same frame. One learns to open herself up more, the other to guard against reckless excesses without pausing to reconsider the extent of possible gaslighting. This lovely, lambent movie displays maturity, elegance and insight. The sheer warmth it exudes is a reminder of sisterhood’s greatest gifts, more than any romantic partnership can hope to fulfil or supplant.