There are dozens of Pride and Prejudice adaptations in existence. This summer series is focused on more traditional, literal adaptations, so things like Bridget Jones’s Diary were never in the running*. Due to time constraints and immediate viewing availability, the older black and white adaptations are also off the menu. (I had no idea there were so many!)

For this series, I’ll just be covering the main two Pride and Prejudice adaptations: the 2005 movie and 1995 miniseries. I might come back to cover the 1980 BBC miniseries in the future, but not this year.

*(Several modern Austen adaptations, including Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Clueless, and others, will get their own coverage later in August, but I’m mostly still sticking with adaptations that remain close to original plot beats and characters. There’s too many others to cover them all!)

General impressions

We have to start with the music. Opinions on this movie, especially compared to the miniseries, are strong and widely varied. But no one can deny the beauty of Dario Marianelli’s piano soundtrack.

There are a lot of long tracking shots in this movie. I don’t know enough about film making to comment on their use, but I do enjoy critiques and video essays discussing directing choices like this. Cinemalogue states, “This introduction to the Bennet household is like a cinematographic waltz — weaving around and in and out of rooms. Most of the filming was done on location, in real residences and not sets. The continuous tracking shots throughout the various residences provide a great visual contrast between the cramped spaces of middle-class citizenry and the immensely wealthy nobility of late, eighteenth-century England.” Another interesting analysis of Wright’s directing choices and unique camera movements by author and teacher Regina Jeffers can be found on the Every Woman Dreams blog.

The Bennet family truly feels like a family in this movie. Sisterly affection and squabbles, feeling in turn the love and embarrassment of their outspoken mother and the benefits and consequences of an indulgent father — it’s all here.

Upon watching the dance with Lizzie and Darcy, I do have to point out again the artistry of the soundtrack and the directing in this movie. The camera flows with the movement of the dancers, while the music is distinct and memorable. Lovely work.

Our cast

The movie opens with Keira Knightley’s Elizabeth Bennet out reading and walking across a field. Having seen the movie before, I know the setting is probably chosen to both set up and bookend the climax later. It’s not book-accurate, but it is lovely.

Having Lizzie introduced by reading a book… this doesn’t really bother me, but Lizzie wasn’t the reader of the family in the novel. (That would be Mary, and possibly Mr. Bennet.) Yes, she does enjoy books, and this comes up in conversation with Darcy and others later. But I do think establishing Lizzie as “bookworm” in the opening shot was a choice to make book-loving viewers feel connected to the character, rather than be true to the novel’s version. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. What do you think?

Keira Knightley was an excellent fit for Elizabeth Bennet, no matter what anyone says. I am certain her performance in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise influenced her casting and audience’s perception of her character (and, I get the impression, possibly some of her lines and acting in this role). That actually works, though. Elizabeth Swan and Elizabeth Bennet are equally feisty, spirited, independent women who want to make choices for themselves and struggle to hold onto their values, opinions, and agency in a world where so much is already dictated for them.

I forgot President Snow was Mr. Bennet in this movie! This is awkward. It’s a credit to Donald Sutherland’s acting that the two characters are so entirely different that I forget the connection every time. I bear no ill will toward this Mr. Bennet. (Also, I love his voice.) This movie’s Lydia Bennet, Jena Malone, was also in the Hunger Games franchise (Johanna Mason).

It’s a pity the most forgettable Bennet, Catherine a.k.a. Kitty, is given to Carey Mulligan — an amazing actress with delightful abilities. But she does the role of Lydia’s little shadow credit. I’d argue she injects the role with some real personality.

Brenda Blethyn’s Mrs. Bennet feels both very realistic and book-accurate. Of the adaptations I’ve seen so far, she is my favorite version of this character. Blethyn captures the dramatic nature of the woman while staying grounded in the reality of what being a mother of five daughters (with no son to protect the inheritance) will push a woman to do for marriages.

Claudie Blakley makes a wonderful Charlotte Lucas; lively enough to be Lizzie’s best friend, but plain and sensible enough to better keep her feet on the ground.

Matthew Macfadyen’s Mr. Darcy is introduced very well, quite in line with the book’s general impression and attitude. I still don’t think this Mr. Darcy smiled enough by the end, but that’s really my only complaint on that character.

I have heard it said that Simon Woods’ Mr. Bingley is too simple or silly, portrayed too much as a doltish airhead. I can understand the criticism, but I also don’t think this version of the character is any less book-accurate than other depictions. What we know of Bingley from the book is that he is generally liked, will smile and talk with anyone, is madly in love with Jane from first sight, and is too easily influenced by the advice of others. While I prefer my own version of the character from reading the book, I do think this interpretation of Mr. Bingley cannot be called inaccurate to another person’s reading of the novel.

Rosamund Pike is the very essence of Jane Bennet. Her golden, ethereal beauty, constant smile, gentle voice, kind words for everyone and everything… she is just the angel Austen wrote.

Tom Hollander’s Mr. Collins is, quite simply, a classic Mr. Collins. Earnest, awkward, oblivious, suffocating Mr. Collins.

Rupert Friend plays Mr. Wickham. He looks too gentle and soft for my vision of the character, but a major point in the book is that Wickham looks too kind and friendly for characters to at first believe the accusations against him. He plays the deceptively charming, almost chameleon-like role well. (Watching Lizzie and Wickham flirt actually reminds me a lot of the initial relationship between Frank and Emma in Emma. Of course, Frank is much less a scoundrel by the end.)

Judi Dench plays Darcy’s aunt Lady Catherine and does the role quite well. But then, she is Dame Judi Dench.

Lizzie’s sensible aunt Mrs. Gardiner is one of my favorite characters in the book, and I did love seeing Penelope Wilton play her. Whether as Mrs. Hamley, Isobel Crawley, Harriet Jones, or Mrs. Gardiner, Wilton always brings a subtle strength and sensible head with her.

Tamzin Merchant’s Georgiana Darcy is sweet and lovely, but entirely unlike the deathly shy and quiet little sister in the book. I do still like this character but feel the need to point out this inaccuracy.

Adaptational changes

The movie, being only two hours long, has to cut considerable amounts from the book, as most adaptations do. The condensation of the first few chapters makes sense, though it is a pity Mrs. and Mr. Bennet’s exchange of “I am sick of Mr. Bingley” and “If I had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on him” was cut.

I get the impression that a good deal of dialogue has been abridged, modernized, or otherwise adapted for the movie. Some of it works better than others.

WHY IS LIZZIE’S HAIR DOWN when she walks to Netherfield alone? (Also, why does everyone have bangs?) I generally refrain from commentary on the costumes, not being familiar with historical accuracy myself… but why is the gentlewoman’s hair down in the middle of the day on a visit to strangers? That’s wrong, right? Is this a visual exaggeration of the “disheveled woman” appearance that so shocks Darcy and Miss Bingley, along with the muddy hem? Seems a bit much.

On a related note, seeing Caroline Bingley’s sleeveless dress at the ball feels very wrong. That wasn’t a thing, was it? Wouldn’t bare shoulders have been taboo at that time? Can someone with a better understanding of Regency era dress and modesty help me out here?

Mr. Bingley’s sister Mrs. Hurst and her boring, disappointing husband are cut from this adaptation. They added nothing of consequence to the plot or other story elements and are not missed. Sir Lucas and Maria are cut from Elizabeth’s visit to the Collinses — she goes alone to see her friend. The wealthy Miss King, who temporarily tempted Mr. Wickham, is also cut.

Of course we must discuss the dramatic proposal in the rain.

In the book, Mr. Darcy’s first proposal takes place indoors at the Collinses’ house while Elizabeth is home alone, and begins in a slightly more reserved manner. In this movie, Mr. Darcy finds Elizabeth taking shelter under an overhang and declares his love over the noise of the pouring rain. Is this historically accurate? A faithful adaptation? The exact speech from the book? No. But it is certainly memorable and emotional. It externalizes the different tumults our hero and heroine are feeling in this moment as Mr. Darcy caves to his feelings while Elizabeth struggles with anger over his behavior.

I think this movie lends more chemistry between the characters by this scene than has been established by this point in the book. The movie has a lot of relationship-developing ground to cover in significantly less time. Plus, modern screen vs. 18th century book. There’s going to be some differences necessary.

The delivery of Mr. Darcy’s subsequent letter in the late night? early morning? hours to a nightgown-clad Elizabeth is, I’m assuming, some sort of metaphorical rather than literal image — showing how his letter feels like it’s intruding on her private world, maybe. Why would a gentleman personally deliver a letter to an unmarried woman in such circumstances? It reminds me of the scene in the 1995 miniseries where Elizabeth is remembering something Darcy said and Colin Firth’s face appears in her bedroom mirror.

In this movie, the Gardiners and Lizzie decide to visit Pemberley when their carriage breaks down near the estate, giving them the idea. It’s not in the book, but seeing the Gardiners and Lizzie interacting in a calm, familial manner was quite pleasant and gave a good idea of these newly introduced characters with a single scene.

I love that Lizzie’s first reaction to seeing Pemberley was a laugh. That was very book-character-accurate. What I didn’t like was how she paid such close attention to the art in the estate while the music drowned out the housekeeper’s conversation with the Gardiners. In the book, Lizzie is intent on hearing every word the housekeeper shares about Mr. Darcy and clings to the conversation while pretending indifference.

In this movie, Lizzie accidentally spies Mr. Darcy inside the house, rather than coming across each other while walking the grounds. It certainly gives more modern credibility to her embarrassment and awkwardness when he catches her watching him and his sister through a crack in the door. I’m not sure why the movie cut his interactions with her aunt and uncle during the visit — I loved that part of the book — or why his desire for her to meet his sister was communicated secondhand.

Some changes were made to the scene in which Lizzie learns of Lydia’s running away with Mr. Wickham. In the book, only Darcy is present when she receives the letter; he hurries and frets over her state of distress, sends a servant for the Gardiners, and listens largely in silence to her report and exclamations of sorrow before leaving. Elizabeth believes he is mortified by the entire affair and wants to remove himself from her company immediately; it is much, much later in the story that she learns he was, in fact, blaming himself for the event and setting out to fix things for her.

In this movie, the Gardiners are there with Darcy and Elizabeth. Immediately upon hearing what’s happened, Darcy declares it to be his own fault and wishes aloud that he could help, before withdrawing back into his usual stoic self and leaving the room.

Interesting that this adaptation gives the Gardiners no children of their own. I assume because they add little to the story and would require more actors for no real purpose.

There’s quite a few changes to the ending, most of them sensible cuts to the timeline. Seeing Jane’s happiness is always so wonderful, of course. I did like the technique of watching the family’s evenings through the windows; it lends a sincerity and intimacy to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s relationship especially that felt lacking in the book.

In the book, Lady Catherine visits in the day — at an unusual hour for visitors, but certainly not in the middle of the night. I’m not sure why they kept the line about the Bennets’ small garden when Lady Catherine’s confrontation of Elizabeth takes place indoors in this version. I assume the change in the time of day was to drive home to modern viewers the unexpected and severe nature of Lady Catherine’s behavior.

This movie cuts out Mr. Collins’ letter to Mr. Bennet. The letter is completely unnecessary to the story, so it makes sense to cut it, but it is a funny scene I enjoyed; its absence was noticed.

The climax of the movie is its sharpest diversion from the book. Instead of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth taking a walk with her family and acknowledging their feelings during a moment alone, Elizabeth talks a walk at dawn after Lady Catherine’s unexpected and unwanted midnight visit. She comes across Mr. Darcy and the two share an intimate conversation and a kiss. In Austen adaptations, there’s always at least one scene “updated” to satisfy modern romance viewers’ expectations, and this fits the bill. The contents of Darcy’s initial speech match the book, and the ensuing professions and conversation match the intentions and emotions, so it works for me. It really is a beautiful speech.

One entirely new scene is added to this movie — a happily ever after of Mr. and the new Mrs. Darcy. It feels a little silly and too modern for me. It’s an incredibly romantic scene, and I can understand the appeal. It just feels out of place in a traditional Austen adaptation.

Conclusion

What is most important in an adaptation? Accurate character depictions? Loyalty to the plot? Faithful interpretation and delivery of themes and messages? Overall viewer experience?

I think every reader and viewer’s idea of what makes a “good” adaptation will vary. Different people have different priorities when a book gets translated to screen, and no adaptation will please everyone.

For me, a faithful adaptation usually requires loyalty to themes and messages first, plot and characters a close second. But this also can depend on what exactly is being adapted. Some stories I pursue for enjoyment, where themes, messages, and accuracy are less important, while others can be completely altered and ruined with one scene (looking at you, Northanger Abbey).

This movie is not the most popular Pride and Prejudice adaptation, but it is close. Many viewers (too many) compare it to the 1995 miniseries and dislike or outright hate it by comparison. It’s true that the two adaptations are remarkably different, but does that then mean that one is inferior to the other? The two adaptations were created by different people in different decades (technically different centuries, too). Every person has a different experience reading the same book. Wouldn’t we expect that fact to affect each screenwriter or director’s vision of a story?

My point is, I love the 1995 miniseries, and I love the 2005 movie. They each have their strengths and weaknesses. Both changed some parts of the book and kept others. (No one can ever convince me a dripping-wet Colin Firth qualifies as “faithful adaptation.”) Watching this movie, the thing that mattered by the end wasn’t whether speeches were made in the right setting or dialogue was delivered the way I pictured it. What mattered was that a beautiful love story blooming despite the odds in a restrictive society was translated to screen in a way that allowed me to smile and laugh and cringe and sigh just as much as when I read the book.

I think I’ll call that faithful.