There are fewer secrets, smaller revelations, less suspense. The best example is the almost total effacement of weak, wicked Mr. Wickham, the object of Lizzie's early misguided affections. In the book Wickham is the catalyst for the ways in which Darcy is misunderstood, then redeemed, and through whom Lizzie learns to temper her brash opinions. Without him, what happens between Darcy and Lizzie has no weight. In the film he's an uninteresting twink with just a few scenes, and the tension between Lizzie and Darcy is reduced to the prosaic question of "does he like me? Lizzie's pragmatic older friend Charlotte Lucas meets a similar fate.
Her reasons for marrying the horrid Mr. Collins security, resignation are ratcheted up in all sorts of awkwardly feminist ways, obscuring the enormity of her decision, Lizzie's bittersweet acceptance of it, and the sadness and nastiness that lurks beneath it all.
The film tucks the whole affair away in about two minutes. Another major change is the shift in the story's tone from Regency to romantic--its Bront'fication, to paraphrase the New Yorker's Anthony Lane.
High romance for sure, but by removing such crucial scenes from the domestic realm, the film loses intimacy, import, and a sense of place. It's hard to bear the similar loss of the humor, edge, and complexity of most of the characters. Collins goes from hilarious snob to twitchy lil' perv; Jane, Lizzie's beloved older sister, is bland, rather than sweet; Bingley, her suitor and Darcy's best friend, dopey instead of sincere; Miss Bingley, his sister, all Dynasty bitchy instead of pathetically mean.
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Flighty, semitragic Lydia Jena Malone , the second-youngest Bennet daughter, is reduced to a giggly, screeching mess. Bennet Donald Sutherland, all mellifluous Volvo-selling voice morphs from distant yet sweet to a bemused, engaged father. When he finds out it was Darcy who paid his daughter Lydia's dowry, he cries earnestly, "I must pay him back!
Darcy himself is softer, his defenses much more visible, a vision of inscrutable, heavy-lidded emotion that's a little more than Byronic. The book gives Lizzie reasons to admire as well as love him; there's little of that here.
The new Keira Knightley vehicle is an OK romance, but it's no Pride and Prejudice.
And what of Lizzie, perhaps the most beloved female character in fiction? Lizzie is intelligent and feeling, perspicacious in ways that make it seem like she's reaching a hand from the past to pull you in. But it's this very quality in which filmmakers find license to have their way with her. Instead of a specific character, a creation of the early 19th century, she's everywoman, cast with a nod to current fashion. In this case Knightley is the same age as Elizabeth Bennet, but she seems far too young, with the expressive range of a chipmunk. Her Lizzie is Hollywood skinny, she mugs for her family and the camera, and she displays a wholly contemporary, entitled sense of her place in the world.https://widmuechrisocif.ga/golden-temple.php
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Lizzie's thoughtfulness, even temper, and sense of propriety, as well as her juice and liveliness are all muted. All that's left is Knightley's face, and that itself isn't always "too pretty," to address one issue critics have raised about her performance. In fact, she's almost a stick figure, with very strangely placed lips--like the singing orange with the rubber-band mouth on Sesame Street.
In the scene where she first rejects Darcy's proposal, her body grows still as her lips keep moving and I couldn't help think of the hypnotic way Jack Nicholson becomes just a mouth ranting in a frozen face in the climactic you-can't-handle-the-truth scene of A Few Good Men.
But there's another problem with this film. But even if you're not savoring the memory of Firth all dripping wet from his dip in the lake, this version severely tests an unwritten law about the speed at which films should be remade. In the trailer, over the image of whirling dancing Regency feet, a stentorian voice proclaims, "From the beloved author of Emma and Sense and Sensibility comes [blah, blah].
There's no sense of necessity to it--which may have contributed to the filmmakers' apparent conclusion that fidelity to the story was also unnecessary, that they could make a generic period piece instead.
- Joe Enters and The Imperfect Murder: Two One-Act Comedies.
- Die Rächerin (German Edition).
- One Red Shoe.
- Alvin Epstein & Jeremy Geidt: Familiarity Breeds Attempt.
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It's a fitfully engaging romance, it's just not Pride and Prejudice. The film does have occasional moments despite agonies like the line in the final scene in which Lizzie tells Darcy he can call her a "goddess divine," making the installation of Pride and Prejudice as the chick-lit urtext complete.
A lot of critics are cheering it, especially for its "energy" often code for "This film didn't bore me with period details". The more-than-half hilarious sight of Darcy striding over the dew-covered meadow at the denouement is yummy, and Knightley can be genuinely charming. Bennet Brenda Blethyn , who is sometimes interpreted as relentlessly shrill, is better than usual.
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And the technical sophistication of current period films is impressive, down to the last beautifully lit shot of 19th-century textiles and surging bit of pseudoclassical score. But small domestic stories like Pride and Prejudice, through which you can see the whole world, are too vulnerable as targets for unworthy remakes: No huge fiscal demands other than kicking aristos out of their country homes for a summer of filming. No expensive costuming issues except covering up all those Pilates arms.
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How many of us click willingly on links posted by friends, family, colleagues, or even strangers on social media?