Sense and Sensibility

I watched Pride and Prejudice adapted by Andrew Davies while I was living in the UK and could not quite grasp why people made such a fuss about Colin Firth and the wet shirt scene. But last year, I got the tenth anniversary edition as a birthday present and fell heads over heels for it. It was well cast (despite the ages of the leading actors/actresses) and the performance was of high standard across the board. It made me pick up the book and revisited both P & P and Sense and Sensibility. In the end, I also rewatched the film of the latter, well adapted by Emma Thompson.

And that was probably why I had not picked up the 2008 adaptation of Sense of Sensibility from the library even though it was adapted by the famed Andrew Davies. After all, when someone had done such a good job of it merely 12 years ago, what else can be added on screen to such a well read novel?

Nevertheless, I took it from the shelf the other day when I wanted a break from the challenging materials that had been playing on my DVD player lately. But familiarity is in short supply from the very beginning of this near three hour television drama. In fact its opening was of such a 'contemporary' nature that I mistook it as a trailer of some glossy Hollywood product which is by default the complete opposite in style, tone and mood of any Jane Austen works! And indeed, despite the familiar story followed immediately after the steamy intro, there were many 'strange' elements in this adaptation: such as the appearance of the son of John Dashwood, the gift given to Elinor by Edwards when they parted at Norland, the use of Byran's poem rather than Shakespeare, that of the many scenes constructed to portray a caring, music loving, and understanding Colonel Brandon... let alone to say the 'bizarre' duel between him and his rival Willougby! At points, I was seriously doubting if granny BBC has gone a bit too far in its attempt to introducing new audience to the classics. And at the end of three hours, the only thing I thought was commendable was the performance of Dan Stevens. Not only he had the look of a most eligible bachelor (unlike Colonel Brandon who looked too serious thorough), he also borne striking resemblance to Hugh Grant who played the same part in Emma Thomson's adaptation.

The dialogue between Andrew Davies and the producer in the special feature then proved rather helpful in that it did not only discuss the sort of small details a casual reader like myself would tend to forget in the book (such as the duel which I still struggle to remember reading it), but also argued rather convincingly why so much screen time had been given to the two men whom the sisters ended up marrying at the end. I still believe though that the film is more subtle and truthful to the book and perhaps it proved once again how difficult it was to accept something different once a popular version had been considered as a master adaptation.