Produced by Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner, Paul Webster Cast: Keira Knightley, Matthew McFadyen, Donald Sutherland, Brenda Blethyn, Rosamund Pike, Claudie Blakley, Rupert Friend, Tom Hollander, Simon Woods, Judi Dench, Jena Malone, Carey Mulligan, Talulah Riley. Yet another version of the well-mined Jane Austen classic would need to be brilliant indeed. Apart from the 1940 gem with Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier, the superb 1995 BBC mini-series with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth was for many modern audiences the definitive Pride & Prejudice. Such diverse and beautifully written characters and such a delightful plot, so deeply rooted in a profound understanding of human nature, are timelessly attractive to directors, actors and audiences alike. Like Shakespearean characters, the Darcys embodied by Olivier, Firth and now Matthew McFadyen bring differently nuanced flavours to enjoy in the proud and socially awkward leading male role. Similarly Garson, Ehle and Keira Knightley illustrate the lively intelligence, sharp-minded wit and wry humour of Elizabeth Bennet in equally shining ways that nevertheless bring out different aspects of the character. This version by the Working Titles team of Tim Bevan and Eric Fellner joining with veteran Paul Webster is a richly photographed, memorable ensemble production in which the romance is predominant over the drama but does not eclipse it. Giving due significance to the rural environment which plays such an important part in the story, the cinematography captures wide frames of soft, misty fields, copses and winding country roads as an environment which underscores the gentle manners and passionately beating hearts beneath empire gowns and ruffled shirts. The surroundings both dwarf the humans and function as appropriately natural settings for the dramas of human nature. The racy opportunism of the dashing rake Mr Wickham (Rupert Friend), the deadening sycophancy of Mr Collins (Tom Hollander), the salon-melodramas of Mrs Bennet (Brenda Blethyn), the silly superficialities of Lydia (Jena Malone) and Kitty (Carey Mulligan), the seriously over-earnest Mary (Talulah Riley), the good-hearted simplicity of Mr Bingley (Simon Woods) and the rigidly, terminally arrogant Lady Catherine de Bourg (Judi Dench) strut, skip and skitter their way across the screen. They are ably matched by the more deeply textured ‘real’ characters: the shyly yearning Jane (Rosamund Pike) of the shining downcast eyes, Lizzie's best friend the realistic, humble Charlotte (Claudie Blakley) accepting the comically snobbish Mr Collins as a mate, Donald Sutherland’s lovely Mr Bennet, long-suffering of girlish squeals, frivolous tittering and the matchmaking machinations of his feather-brained wife as well as deeply appreciative of the superior intellect and worth of his two older girls. Backed by the richly interwoven tapestry of these characters, Keira Knightley’s swan-like Elizabeth moves with energy and grace (and not just because of the elegance of her lovely neck), hotly opinionated and profoundly moved by principles and prejudices, and magnetically drawn by the seeming arrogance, reticence and gallant behaviour, finally revealed, of Mr Darcy. For two hundred years (Pride and Prejudice was written in 1813), Elizabeth Bennet has been a heroine much admired for her self-contained independence within a culture more conditioned to female submissiveness. Knightley’s portrayal is true to the original. Where Olivier and Firth gave us an aloof, arrogant Darcy encased rigidly in a shell so impenetrable it was almost impossible to believe he had been moved by Lizzie’s sardonic criticisms or attracted by her spirited independence, McFadyen shows a more accessible Darcy. He’s vulnerable, even fragile behind his stiff manners. His aloofness is more believably from social inadequacy than arrogance, yet he is believably constrained by his social standing to regard decorum, fortune and propriety in a wife’s family as significant in his choice of a bride. His capitulation to Lizzie is therefore more plausible. The chemistry between Knightley and McFadyen is palpable, as it is between Rosamund Pike’s Jane and Simon Woods’ Bingley. Donald Sutherland radiates the warmth of benevolent fatherly presence and acceptance, while Brenda Blethyn’s Mrs Bennet is simply frothy lace. The whole is beautifully backed with suitably charming chamber music by Dario Marianelli and atmospheric period sets, scenery and costumes. Like the novel, the pace gives more time to the dialogue and inner turmoil of the characters than to the action, such as it is. If less time is given to the dramatic escapades of the silly youngest daughter and the predatory militia officer than to the story of the main characters, it is appropriate and effective in this film. The love story is heart-felt and sweetly, deeply affecting to a level that modern romantic comedies (except others by Working Title) rarely achieve. © Avril Carruthers 18th September 2005
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