I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about this harmless fluffy failure of an adaptation. Well I should say failure in my eyes, because I know the series has it's fans. So why when I watch it am I left with he feeling I've been chewing on aluminum foil when what I really wanted was a steak. It has good enough production values, the direction is not terrible and the cast attractive. Why do I feel like this is S&S done up like a cheap bodice ripper. For me the problems go back to the script. There is just to much modernity in it.
Too much of Dan Stevens chopping wood, as if Edward Ferrers would have known one end of an ax from another. Too much Margaret bemoaning how girls couldn't have adventures like boys. Too much of Marianne wandering around houses without a chaperon. Far, far too much of Col Brandon acting like an action man hero. David Morrisey is an attractive man who looks really good riding a horse and swinging a sword blade, but none of that was in the novel and thank goodness for that. Jane Austen didn't need to dress up her work like that and we didn't need it at all. We didn't need Dominic Cooper reciting a Byron poem that was not written till six years after the book. There was too much of Marianne being trained like a horse or a hawk not to give the master too much trouble and too little of the comedy that was an inherent part of the book. Andrew Davies is a good screenwriter but he doesn't do comedy. That requires a far lighter touch than he has.
There were parts of the production I really enjoyed but I have to admit, there was way too much I didn't. I was left wondering how on earth Elinor would know how horses were trained. That's the equivalent of someone who never drove a car knowing how drivers education was taught. There was just too much Davies and not enough Austen.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
And all of that is simply your opinion. Anyway I was not discussing the 1995 film, I was discussing the 2008 adaptation, which I think failed for all the reasons I posted. It's a pity because it does have many good points. Where it fails IMO is in how Davies simply put too modern a spin on the characters and in making Brandon a caricature of an action man hero. Not even Morrisey's broad shoulders, tight derriere and sexy smolder makes up for that. And despite chopping the wood like no gentleman would have ever done in the early 19th Century, Dan Stevens is just to much of a cypher as Edward. But I will confess that could be my bias. I'm not a great fan of his. I was so glad when his character kicked the bucket in 'Downton Abbey'. I much prefer Alan Leech in that show, pity Ian Glenn left it for 'Game of Thrones'.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Indeed it is simply my opinion. I have never pretended that my opinion must be slavishly followed by anyone else and I don't take umbrage when someone holds a different one. I do however expect my opinion to be treated with respect. I do not think that the adaptation succeeded in anything else but making David Morrsey look good. I want more from a Jane Austen Adaptation. I expect some flavour of her work and I expect some humour. She is an extremely funny writer, something that would raise a smile would be very welcome. Instead we got doom, gloom and hysterics.
We also got some vibrant chemistry between Morrisey and Wakefield, unfortunately there was none in the novel. The flaws cannot simply be ignored Sassafras because you think David Morrisey is wonderfull in all aspects. I think he is a very attractive man and he looks great swinging that darn sword, unfortunately he is nothing like the quiet, reserved and patient man in the book. The man Marianne fell in love with after she married him, not before.
This adaptation is not perfect, no adaptation is. It's no good pretending it's perfect when it's not. It is not Davies best work, it is far from it. And for the life of me I cannot see why you are defending Cooper reciting a poem that wasn't written till five years after the book was and you get upset because Emma Thompson left out a character we never see...Brandon's brother. It's almost like you pore over the 1995 film with a magnifying glass, searching out flaws and yet ignore every glaring fault this adaptation has. And it has many. From bad sound effects to a very bad script.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I have treated your opinion with respect. Disagreeing with you is not the same thing as disrespecting your opinion.
When you Keep questioning an opinion, that is not showing respect.
S&S 2008 has MANY humorous moments, IMO. As I have said before, the vulgar and dim-witted Anne Steele is included here (which is NOT the case in S&S 1995), and she has some of the funniest lines and scenes. I also rather like Mr. Palmer's comments about the crookedness of the ceilings, and Lady Middleton's icy introduction - where she is sitting stiffly and primly, her children posed around her - is dryly humorous in the way that all of Austen's books are.
Yep, you just put up about the only funny lines in the entire series. About 15 minutes of humour out of a 180 total run time. I don't think they were that funny, although the actress who played Anne Steele did earn her pay cheque. I don't even remember the actor who played Mr Palmer. And I have to disagree with you, S&S is hilarious. Austen's satire was spot on in this novel. I think she made major mistakes with the male characters, but her satiric eye is as sharp as a needle. Kind of shows you where she put men in the scheme of things.
I don't understand why you hate the chemistry so much and think that it is not in the novel. One definition of chemistry that I found on the Internet is this: "Mutual attraction or sympathy; rapport." It seems to me that, from how Austen describes it in the novel, Marianne and Brandon DO have chemistry.
I don't hate the chemistry. If the adaption was of a run of the mill bodice ripper it would be fine. But it isn't a bodice ripper, it's Jane Austen who doesn't have one couple kiss on page. It's fine as a substitute for a Harlequin/Mills & Boon romance, not for S&S. It's like a big mud puddle in virgin snow, it doesn't belong.
In the last chapter of the novel, Austen says that Marianne felt "strong esteem and lively friendship" for Brandon, and of course we know that Brandon has been in love with Marianne for quite some time. Does that not sound like rapport and attraction?
No, it sounds like something Marianne would feel for a grandparent.
I suppose you could argue that the attraction is not truly "mutual," because Austen doesn't say that Marianne feels exactly the same way about Brandon that he feels about her, but how often do any two people in a relationship actually have EXACTLY the same feelings for each other? And it is also true that Austen says Marianne is friendly with Brandon and esteems him, but in order to be friends with another person, there MUST be some attraction, mustn't there? Would you say that Marianne in the novel is NOT at all attracted to Brandon? If so, then I must disagree with you.
That sounds an awful lot like justifcation and I'm not a fan of 'justification'. As for Marianne, well there's a word that covers what happens with her. It's propinquity. She was married to the man so she loved him...after a while.
I realize that you prefer S&S 1995, in which Winslet's Marianne has NO chemistry with, attraction to, or affection for Rickman's Brandon whatsoever, but marries him merely for money and security. I do not think that this is in the spirit of Austen's novel, however. After all, Austen DOES say that Marianne is very good friends with Brandon and greatly esteems him when they are married, and we see none of that in S&S 1995.
Please do not put words into my mouth. I like 1995 S&S very much but it's not a case of blind preference. I don't think Morrisey comes close to the character of Brandon as Rickman. Now you may not like Rickman, that's fine. But his worst enemy could not call Alan Rickman a bad actor. His Brandon is exactly the same as Brandon in the book. He is a quiet, reserved man who has patience. Morrisey's Brandon while staying faithful I'm sure to Davies adaptation is not the quiet man from the book. I think you might say with a whole lot of truth tthat I prefer Thomson's adaptation to Davies, and you would be quite right. I ddon't have a problem with Rickman's performance and I don't have to knock at Morrisey's performance to justify my preference. I am quite willing to admit he did a fine enough job with what he was given, it's just that what he was given isn't as good as what Rickman was. Also Ang Lee is a much better director than John Alexander. You don't see any chemistry in 1995, I see too much in 2008. Maybe what it needs is another adaptation?
I never said that I think S&S 2008 is perfect. I readily admit that it has flaws. I just happen to think that the flaws are fairly minor.
I know how that feels, I feel the same way about 2008.
As for the poems, your right poems being recited that were written so long after the book was published is a major mistake. It makes you wonder why Davies did it if Thomsom was so wrong.
Now I'm going to close by saying that for everything you find wrong in 1995 I can point to something just as heinous in 2008. So let's not compare the two works. I don't enjoy nit picking over flaws, especially as this thread is about the 2008 series and not the 1995 film. IMO the film stands very well on it's own two feet and I don't think I have to poke holes in the series to make it look better. I don't have to say that Morrisey was terrible in the role to make Rickman look good and I don't have to say that Thomson's adaptation was bad to make Davies look good. Well maybe that does have to be done. It's not his best work.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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What? I never said that your approval of S&S 1995 was a case of blind preference, so what do you mean by saying that I am putting words into your mouth? I never made the remark that you claim I made.
You made this remark and your implication was clear to me.
I realize that you prefer S&S 1995,
And if you think that Alan Rickman is limited in his range I can only conclude you haven't seen much of his work. You must be the only person in the world that could say such a thing and expect to be taken seriously.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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I don't mean this in a rude way, summeriris, but don't you think it is a little insulting to imply that, because my opinion is different from yours, I cannot be taken seriously?
Of course you should be taken seriously. I apologise for being sharp. I'm sorry. I simply cannot discuss this with you. I will only end up being ruder than you already think. If you think the actor who stole 'Robin Hood' from Kevin Costner, made Bruce Willis fade into the background, and made Juliet Stevenson swoon for happiness when he came back from the dead, not to mention his Professor Snape is limited, I am left speechless. (Well not speechless, I am seldom speechless.)
I don't disagree with the 99.99% of the population of the world who thinks that Rickman is a great actor. It's best if we simply leave this alone.
I try to answer everything, It's just that you cram an awful lot into one post. I like to explore one or two points at a time. _____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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What Rickman seems to have a problem with is playing a character who is both warm and very reserved. Combining these two traits is evidently very difficult for him.
I completely disagree.
s a result, Rickman's Brandon just comes across as cold, aloof, bitter, and squinty-eyed - less like the Brandon of the novel and more like one of Rickman's many contemptuous jerk characters.
I completely disagree. His performance was of a warm shy man who loved deeply.
Please don't misquote me. I never said that Rickman wasn't a great actor in some roles. He isn't great in everything, IMO, but very, very few actors are. His limited range doesn't prevent him from being good at what he does.
IMO the last thing Rickman is, is limited.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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I'm with you on Alan Rickman - I thought his Colonel Brandon was very sweet, very endearing, with great warmth of feeling.
While Sassafrass is right about his being mannered, and in a rather old-fashioned way, mannered actors have for centuries brought their mannerisms to bear on varying characters from very different emotional centers, and I think Rickman does this admirably. He is not the most Protean of actors, but his range, IMO, is a good deal wider than some think.
I also think the 1995 film does show, at the end, Marianne's realization of the import, to her, of being able to safely trust in, rely on, her true friend the Colonel, and Winslet, for me, conveys that this is the beginning of a greater affection.
And S&S2008 is my least favorite of Andrew Davies' Austen adaptations. But that leaves a lot of room - I don't think any other Austen adapter has done so much, so well, for her books as Davies, and this is an admirable version, IMO, although for me his 1995 P&P and 1996 "Emma" are even better.
I do greatly admire and enjoy both the 1995 S&S film and this mini-series. Both seem to me to tackle the material honestly, seriously, and with respect; for me, that's the sine qua non.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Rickman had a very traditional training in acting. He trained for the stage and that is his first love. I don't think he is that mannered. I think in S&S 1995 he was acting a character who in that time would be mannered. There is a difference. But getting back to the 2008 mini-series, we see wholesale ditching of the courtesies which were not ditched in for instance his P&P. I think what has to be borne in mind is that Davies star has risen since he adapted P&P. He could get away with 'modernizing' S&S, but in P&P he had a producer and director (Sue Birtwhistle & Simon Langton) who kept their eyes on details. The fact that S&S was not a big hit in the UK kind of proves Ms Birtwhistle's POV. I noticed he reined in the modernizing in his next production, 'Little Dorrit'. And that was much better.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Propriety and mannerisms are not 'courtesies'. 'Courtesies were the correct way of greeting and of saying goodbye. You bowed and curtsied very time you met someone and than when you said goodbye. You did not sit and stare intently at someone to the exclusion of everyone else in the room. That's just plain rude, even today. You did not call in the middle of dinner, and at country houses dinner was always served at the same time, between 5-6 pm for a family dinner and 8 pm for a dinner party. It was considered very rude to interrupt a dinner. We do see that Brandon is embarrassed because he assumed that the household would have been long finished dinner. But he stayed, wearing riding clothes! You just didn't do that, no one would call in the evening wearing day clothes. There are a lot of little details and you could say that it's wrong to nit pick at them, but Davies is an old hand at these adaptations and he does know better. It just all points to a rather slip shod adaptation IMO. _____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
In S&S 2008, the characters DO bow, curtsey, and smile when they meet other characters. I am not sure which scenes you are referring to, because it seems to me that the writer and director paid close attention to these courtesies.
They give perfuntory little bobs and nods. A bow and a curtsy is considerable more than that, and they did every time, not just on an introduction.
And are you referring to Morrissey's Brandon when you mention sitting and staring intently? In S&S 2008, Wakefield's Marianne plays the piano in the evening, after dinner, and everyone SHOULD be listening intently to her. I don't see what is rude about being quiet and attentive when someone is providing entertainment. IMO, Morrissey's Brandon simply loses himself in Marianne's music. He is NOT being rude or trying to unnerve her.
He was staring at her, at one point you can see Wakefield noticing and acting uncomfortable. It's right there on screen.
Then it must be just an honest mistake on his part, right? I know that you do not want to discuss S&S 1995 on this board, so I won't mention any scenes from it in particular, but there are other Austen adaptations besides S&S 2008 that have characters arrive late to dinner, leave early, etc. I fail to understand why you are so harshly critical of S&S 2008 when it is far from the only adaptation to do this.
I am harsh on it because it deserves the harshness. And Sassafras you are the last person to discuss someone never giving an adaptation an even break.
As far as I am aware, Davies isn't responsible for the costuming decisions.
No, that's the actions of the production team and the director...who are as equally responsible for the mistakes made.
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The little bobs and nobs did irritate me. If you are going to do something, do it right. It would have been better if they had just forgotton them all together.
Nope, Wakefield looked irritated and I can't blame her. Staring at someone like that is uncomfortable.
And I know that Davies isn't responsible for everything in the production but he was riding the crest of a wave at that time. I don't think anyone told him he got some things wrong. But this production didn't do as well as his other adaptions this side of the pond, so maybe that told him.
He's been working on more modern projects lately, 'Mr Selfridge' for instance. I don't really watch that, I much prefer the BBC's 'The Paradise'. _____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Well as I said before I don't like comparisons. If the more modern adaptations don't use them, that's their choice. I'm trying to think of any where they are not used? 'Wives & Daughters' maybe, but that's not Regency. In North & South' Margaret makes a point to learn to shake hands because that's how they do it 'up North'.
To return to the original subject, I must say that the courtesies in S&S 2008 seem all right to me. I am not sure how historically accurate they are, but I would not be terribly surprised if bows and curtseys could be less formal when exchanged between people who knew each other well. I could be wrong about that, though.
The big problem with that is that nobody knows anyone that well that the courtesies become unnecessary. The Dashwoods are very much newcomers.
She looks a bit confused, not irritated. And Morrissey's Brandon isn't so much staring at her (at least not intentionally) as he is simply losing himself in her music. She reminds him of Eliza.
I don't care what she reminded Morrisey's Brandon of, it's rude to stare and Wakefield does show that she finds it uncomfortable. He wasn't lost in the music, when you lose yourself in music your eyes do not fix on someone to the exclusion of all else without blinking.
Do you blame Davies for the courtesies being, in your opinion, lacking? I doubt that he had much to do with that aspect of the production. It seems to me that the director is more to blame. Most of the other things that he got "wrong" were completely intentional. That probably isn't much of a comfort to you, and I admit that it is a rather poor excuse, but I think Davies knows exactly what he is doing, and any changes he made to the story and characters were very carefully considered. I don't agree with all of his decisions, either, but I still think that S&S 2008 is a great adaptation.
I blame Davies for what I see as the deficiencies in the script. I blame him for beefing up Edward's and Brandon's roles in stupid ways and ways that are not consistent with the social mores of the time. I blame him for the tone of the script which is all wrong IMO.
Now I'm not saying that I am the last word on this production, far from it. I'm just the last word on how I feel. The first time I watched it I thought it was fine, the second time I started to notice things. The third time I felt like throwing a book at the wall. Not my copy of Sense and Sensibility, that's a work of the bookbinder's art. Maybe that copy of Nathan Bedford Forrest's biography where the author succeeded in making him boring.
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Oh, yes, yes, I know of Rickman's stage training - I saw him on Broadway a dozen years back and I can still hear his cadences! (Pause to swoon.) I have also had stage, and Shakespeare, training - on a much smaller level, I was a stage actress for decades.
I do think him mannered, but that to me is descriptive only, and in no way pejorative. I think Alan Rickman is just grand.
It would indeed appear that Ms. Birtwhistle (what a great name!) may have had a good deal to do with some of the aspects of P&P1995 and the 1996 "Emma" that I admired so; some of these are less pronounced in S&S2008 - I am going from memory, having not revisited this S&S recently, but I do recall being surprised that Davies had penned the script, as the sentence structures of his original lines seemed to me less "Austenian" than in his previous adaptations of that author's work. That's kind of a bugbear for me; each of us has his or her own, I guess, but I do think this is nonetheless a very fine adaptation.
Hattie Morahan's Elinor is an exceptional characterization, but it is only the best out of many fine performances, IMO. Cannot stand Dominic Cooper, though - it speaks ill of Mrs. Dashwood for her to fall for such an obvious slime. I'll hand-wave Marianne, she's barely more than a child, whatever she may think.
I am not mad about the modernizations, but it seems to have been a fad about that time - witness the following year's "Emma," which modernized physical and verbal comportment to a degree which, for me, is more than a problem. Even that "Emma," though, has exellences which make it well worth viewing. And Davis' S&S2008 script is, my above comment notwithstanding, far closer to Austen in tenor, IMO.
I've not seen "Little Dorrit;" I will put it on my list - thank you.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Sassafrass, I know we will never agree about Alan Rickman, nor the 1995 S&S.
I've answered a number of your questions/points on another thread, and won't repeat here.
I will say, I think the invention of the piano-gift was unnecessary, but what I see is their putting it in to have Marianne showing her increased consideration for others' claims, not only upon mere material things, but upon Brandon's affection and attention, as she says "It is not just for me - it is for all of us." She is meant to be seen, I think, as less self-centered than before, less putting first of her own sensibilities - but as I say, I do not think it was necessary.
The only "Northanger Abbey" I've seen is the much older one, but I expect I will be getting round to the newer one in the not-too-distant future. I am within a couple of weeks of wrapping up my "Emma" project, and after a break will probably do the same for either "Northanger Abbey" or "Mansfield Park;" either makes a great contrast with "Emma."
I always wish whatever Austen adaptation I am watching were more faithful to the novel - even my greatly-loved favorites.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
It's an interesting article, it has nothing to do with the mini-series though it could be argued that Morrisey's Brandon is just as interested if not more in music than Rickman is. What I did notice in 2008 was a lack of dancing. While playing the piano could be considered unmanly, dancing was very important. The Duke of Wellington would not have an officer on his staff that could not dance well.
I also think you are giving too much to the scene where Brandon calls and Marianne leaves. She's rude and he can't do anything else. In the mini series Brandon makes his interest in Marianne very plain to everybody, he's not discreet at all. And I got the impression that Morrissey's Brandon didn't like Willoughby being there and he left because he was miffed. Now there is nothing wrong with that but it's interesting how two people can see the same thing and draw very different conclusions. I am not discussing the 1995 film on this thread. You can mention it if you like but I won't discuss it.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Not really, the article is correct in it's main points. It is modernization in both adaptations. You either accept or you don't. I'm pretty much on the fence in that regard. I recognise that Austen didn't write the men very well. It's the one thing I think Davies was right on, their parts have to be expanded. I just don't like how he expanded them. Thomson I think stuck closer to the spirit of the book, but it's a compromise. The big problem was that Austen probably didn't at the time she wrote the book have much exposure to men on the whole. She knew her brothers and her father, but it has to be kept in mind that her brothers would have been at school for much of the year and her father worked. She couldn't write about what she didn't know. So here we are, two hundred years later trying to fill in the blanks. Thomson and Davies tried to give Brandon and Marianne something in common, and that something didn't jibe with the 19th Century society. But they could hardly have Brandon doing needlepoint or Marianne firing off a shotgun, so we are stuck with music. English folk music at that.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
You have it backwards; in S&S 2008, Brandon DOES dance, whereas in S&S 1995, he does not. In the second episode of the 2008 miniseries, there is a ball at Barton, and Morrissey's Brandon can be seen dancing with Morahan's Elinor. Later, in London, Morrissey's Brandon is seen dancing again.
Oh come on, two clips that lasted 10 seconds each isn't much dancing. And again with the comparisons. So 1995 didn't have the 20 seconds of dancing that 2008 had. I don't call it much of an improvement even if you do.
Morrissey's Brandon comes to call on Marianne after her fall, he asks after her health, but does NOT make any obvious romantic advances.
That's being discreet? The reason she went out marching through the rain was because his behaviour in the mini series had become a topic of gossip. No, it doesn't equate to discretion that he pulled back after Marianne was getting linked to him because of his earlier behaviour. And as even he must have got the message that she was feeling the pressure of his attentions, I'm not that impressed that it dawned on him he was maybe moving too fast for her. You can't have it both ways, either he was discreet before or he finally was discreet after. There was a reason for Marianne leaving the house when he arrived and that was his previous indiscreet behaviour. Davies does delineate Brandon's journey in courting Marianne. The emphasis on journey here. Just like every other character in the series he has to learn from his mistakes. Brandon does not remain static through any of the versions of the story, not novel, film or series.
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I do not think that the adaptation succeeded in anything else but making David Morrisey look good.
Even that might be debatable. I found it interesting how Davies had Brandon behave during the evening piano recital.
According to the book, as I remember it, the only thing Brandon does is watch Marianne play with great attention as opposed to others who chatted or did not pay attention. Austen also notes that Marianne was bothered by this rude behavior. But then look what happens in Davies scene. Marianne gets up from playing and Margaret comes over and asks to play. We hear her playing in the background. But do Brandon (and Marianne and Eleanor) pay quiet attention to her? No. They end up having a conversation in the same room while Margaret is playing! I'm not sure if Davies even realized it, but it seems completely out of place for a gentleman who cares about everyone's feelings and for Marianne who was annoyed at such rude behavior.
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Yes, Morissey's Brandon did not have that great manners. He sat and stared at Marianne, that was bad manners and then he ignores Margaret by talking to her sisters. And Morrisey never portrays him as being shy or diffident and Brandon was. Morrisey never once talks in a modulated tone of voice. It's not that the actor can't do this, see his portrayal in 'Adrian' on YouTube. It's a lovely job of a shy and diffident man.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Oh I think more reasons than that can be found to criticize Morrisey's Brandon. He is too forceful in all his scenes. For instance he is the one who comes into the Palmer's drawing room demanding to know where Marianne is. He isn't asking, that's a demand. And sure he is supposed to be concerned about her, but you don't demand in another person's home to know where another guest is. He is constantly hanging around them, it gets beyond coincidence. He is too forceful and this is not the actor's fault. Morrisey can do gentleness very well, he is just not asked to tone the force down. Restraint is not a bad thing when doing Brandon, it is what the actor should be doing. It's my main complaint about Morrisey's performance. The script and direction is not his fault, he delivers what was asked of him, but the entire tone of his performance is off. He's not in an army camp, he usually is in a drawing room.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I've always thought book Brandon behaved oddly for a gentleman twice Marianne's age when he found out about Willoughby. As I have posted before, I felt he should have felt greater responsibility to the Dashwood family. Perhaps that behavior is a bit more palatable from a quieter gentleman. But that dishonorable behavior is comical coming from the Col Brandon Morrisey played. At least I would never expect someone who behaved like he did...assertively confronting Will at the party, stating he has Marianne's interest at heart, then confidently telling Sir John he'd hate to see her injured...acting as if he'd do anything to protect her...to end up keeping that info from Mrs Dashwood. He knew Mrs Dashwood didn't know of Will's true character and he knew that Marianne was dating Will and becoming serious. He knew Marianne was in danger! What else would a man like Morrisey need to take action to protect Marianne? It makes his confrontation of Will hollow and meaningless...and perhaps Davies meant to be so. Because at the end of the discussion, Willoughby walks out the winner by default because he was NOT honorable and Brandon couldn't do anything but bluster.
I want more from a Jane Austen Adaptation. I expect some flavour of her work and I expect some humour.
Indeed, summeriris, despite this adaptation's merits (which are many), for me it does really lack salt and tang, which Austen, and IMO, the 1995 film, do provide. Sweet/bland/WRONG are, alas this adaptations hallmarks, despite some truly golden aspects. Sometimes, these work well enough, but the overall Autenian flavour of tartness is utterly absent. Too much conventionally structured romance, hence, un-Austen.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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IMO the 'golden moments' of this adaptations are just so few. And I think that every 'golden moment' has a shadow cast on it. Anne Steele is great, why is her accent so different from Lucy's? Yes siblings can have different accents, but not when they grow up together in the same town. Morahan does a great job with Elinor, why the hell is she beating carpets over a tree branch? Carpets were not beaten by the young ladies of the house, they were not beaten where she would see it being done, and they were not beaten over tree branches. They didn't need beaten all that much anyway, people did not wear outdoor shoes in the drawing room. I could go on, every single good thing about the production has it's shadow. This wouldn't bother me generally, you can find something to nitpick over in any production. It's just in this production the anomalies outweigh the few good things too much.
It's like Davies didn't think much of the source materiel and decided to dump Austen's work over the side.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
summeriris, I rather took it that Lucy had worked to improve her speech in anticipation of her future change of station
I do agree, both the carpet-beating and its twin scene, Edward's wood-chopping, were very silly.
It's like Davies didn't think much of the source materiel
That could be true. One does wonder. There is certainly far less care taken as to fidelity to character and tenor than was evident in the P&P and the "Emma" he penned.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Yes, I suppose Lucy could have worked on her speech. That leads you to wonder how? Phonetics was not really a study at that time, and would being exposed to Edward's speech patterns be enough? That's what bothers me. There is no explanation for it in the series. It's just there and it's like the director, screenwriter and producer didn't bother about it. Anne is just presented as having this accent even though she would have grown up in a household where a local lower class accent wouldn't be tolerated.
The carpet beating, wood chopping, wrong accent...it all points to a sloppy production. And that is not like the BBC. Usually they are meticulous about these things. The director, John Alexander has not directed any other historical dramas, maybe he just didn't get the details that count. Maybe he just depended on Davies expertise in these matters. The producer has worked with Davies many times. Maybe it's a case of too many times? Sometimes success does breed a little contempt for the audience.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I did not know that about John Alexander. Perhaps he will do better to stick to modern settings. Although, God and the devil are always in the details, whatever the period, aren't they? The producer, well, you have opined that perhaps Andrew Davies isn't the same without Sue Birtwistle, and he doesn't seem to be, on the strength of the three Austens of his I have seen.
My father trained himself out of a Chicago accent by listening to the BBC radio in Oslo, after World War II, so yes, you can do it by listening. If you have a good ear.
But you are right - given that I have some sensitivity to working to rid one's self of an accent, I am naturally more ready to hand-wave it, but for the audience in general, it ought to have been explained, or the difference between the sisters' speech should have been absent.
Emma Thompson has noted her debt to Sydney Pollack, the 1995 film's Executive Producer, who read her script, and "asked the right questions," enabling her to see from a non-Austen-reading perspective what did and didn't require additional exposition.
It really does feel as if the 2008 had less care expended on it - except Colonel Brandon, and they should have taken less care to do what they intended in that direction, IMO. The 1995 film's almost pointillist attention to detail is staggering, sharp, clear relief is everywhere in evidence. The 2008 is almost out-of-focus-blurry by comparison.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Speaking as a person who was trained hard out of an accent, sometimes it's not that easy. It just grated on me, But then so much of this series ended up grating on me. _____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
No, I don't say it's that easy. Just that it can be done, but, as I note, you are right, the difference between Lucy's speech and Anne's should either have had an explanation or been omitted.
I like your comment else where that it is like dominoes, one error as central as Brandon-Marianne here ends up unbalancing the story entirely, and a lot is affected, negatively, by it. If Brandon is wrong, Willoughby is wrong, Marianne is wrong, and so on, as you perceptively noted. It's too bad, because so much of it was on track it should have been better.
But Andrew Davies is, as we both know, on record as saying the novel is Austen's least successful, she should have done another draft, the men need "butching up," Marianne and Brandon's arc in the novel is not satisfying, etc., so clearly he was not hindered by any particular respect for his source material.
Thompson, on the other hand, has always had nothing but praise for Austen and the novel, as written.
I think the respect on the one hand, and the lack of it on the other, is evident in the resulting adaptations.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I think that Andrew Davies really shot himself in the foot with his remarks. If an adapter doesn't have respect for his source materiel, how can we have respect for him?
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Well, certainly one has to approach his adaptation with some skepticism, perhaps even trepidation, that is, if one actually likes the source material one's self.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
When Davies adapted P&P back in 1995 he made a comment I have never forgotten. It should have raised alarm bells with me then. He said he thought that P&P had never had a really good adaptation before he came along. So that remark rubbished every other attempt to adapt the book. I think because P&P got such a great reception it kind of gave him an ego boost. He went on a roll and his adaptations are so popular, they really are. Nobody can deny that he really has no compition in this, except for Sandy Welch. Welch's adaptation have also been very well recieved and she is his biggest rival. One thing for sure, she has a clearer eye when it comes to male characters. In 'Our Mutual Friend' for instance David Morrisey plays Bradley Headstone. This performance is IMO Morrisey's tour de force. He commands your attention even when he is behaving like a murderous barbarian. His death scene is the unforgettable moment in the series. I compare the power of that performance with the 'performance' he gives in this production.
Of course it doesn't help the the way Brandon is written in this series colours every other part. Ive said it before. It's like watching a row of dominoes falling into chaos.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Mr. Davies certainly is not ego-challenged, and doesn't mind who knows it. I actually have wondered, here and there, something akin to what Sassy suggested - that he may like making scandalous statements for effect - he's a Welshman, and I think Robert Graves' memorable quip "I'm Irish enough to leave a story better than I found it" applies to the Welsh, often, as well.
I've only seen Sandy Welch's "Emma;" I have very mixed feelings about her script - where she uses Austen's language, edited, of course, it is excellent; where she paraphrases, not so much, IMO. A lot of the "modernizing" of this adaptation gives me fits. Have you seen it? I think you said you had - the reel at the ball, everyone romping and stomping madly about, whooping at the top of their lungs - this is hard to even look at, for me. And her Mr. Woodhouse is almost as far afield from Austen's original as Davies' Brandon is. Bernard Hepton, in the Davies "Emma," is perfect, IMO.
Great acting by Romola Garia, though, and IMO the best Mr. Knightley yet (which supports your take on her with the male characters), in Welsh's "Emma."
I will put "Our Mutual Friend" on my list of "to watch," and report back when I get to it.
I can compartmentalize the mini-series a little, but the minimum effect of the gross distortion of Brandon, and consequently Marianne, is that it blurs Austen's sharp contrasts, renders somewhat bland her complex blend of flavours. I can see "dominoes," though, it's quite apt.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I very much like Sandy Welch's work. I bow to your greater understanding of 'Emma., I haven't studied it as cloesely as you have. I've seen most of her work and I have to say I think she does a great job. She did the last 'Jane Eyre' with Toby Stephens as well as 'North & South' with Richard Armitage. She certainly did change some things but her screenplays are very faithful to the spirit of the books. I think 'Our Mutual Friend' is her masterpiece. She really captures Dicken's London.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Then I'm wrong, I definitely saw her "Jane Eyre;" while not my favorite, I liked it very much, definitely nearer top than bottom.
It seems to me that, in most - almost all - cases, the roles of Jane and Rochester bring out the best in actors. Not too crazy about Ciaran Hinds, though I usually adore him, particularly his Captain Wentworth in "Persuasion," of course, and his Brian de Bois-Gilbert in "Ivanhoe." This latter was an adaptation that took a lot of liberties with a novel I adore, but I love it anyway.
I have seen Richard Armitage, in "Spooks" and a few of the "Robin Hood" episodes - he was sexier in "Robin Hood," but, then, I always preferred Basil Rathbone to Errol Flynn . . . I think partly because I find good acting attractive.
I don't know "North & South," never read the book. Perhaps I ought. I keep re-reading Jane Austen, at the moment, I don't want to get stuck.
Charlotte Bronte and Dickens are very different sensibilities, though, from Austen. Not that they are the same, but I think they have a bit more in common with each other than either has with Austen. I love Bronte's "Villette;" a much more "difficult" book than "Jane Eyre," but an irresistible read nonetheless.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Dickens and Charlotte Bronte didn't seem to have the same love of satire that Austen had. I think the writer that comes closest to her is Thackery. I've already said how much Lucy Steele reminds me of Becky Sharp. I think just as you love good acting, I love a well drawn morally deficient character. I've always loved Gollum for instance.
Dickens is very sentimental though. His villains always come to sad ends, I like Austen's more realistic take on it. Sometimes the 'villains' or 'morally deficient' characters live long and prosperous lives. Even if they are not that happy.
Mrs Gaskell is well worth reading, she changed how England looked at the workers of the mills.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I have seen Richard Armitage, in "Spooks" and a few of the "Robin Hood" episodes - he was sexier in "Robin Hood," but, then, I always preferred Basil Rathbone to Errol Flynn . . . I think partly because I find good acting attractive.
Locus, I must confess that Richard Armitage makes me swoon like Catherine in Northanger Abbey. I. Love. Him. I first saw him in "Robin Hood" and I began calling it "Robin Who?" He stole the show IMO. I own the entire series on DVD because of him, and the relationship between Guy and Marian. I was riveted by it, and darn it - they broke my heart to pieces with their arc! Still bitter. Ha!
I've not read Gaskell's North and South either, supergran mentioned to me that it was written in serial format I think - and due to that, not the easiest read. She said that Sandy Welch made Thornton more dangerous and brooding (which doesn't bother me in the least, RA does it VERY well ). Even so Supergran has high praise for the adaptation. I HIGHLY recommend you watch it. It's amazing IMO. I also own it on DVD, and have watched it many times. It's a truly wonderful mini-series. Extremely well-cast, well-produced, and brilliantly written. It's an absolute gem. I can't speak highly enough of it.
I very much like Sandy Welch's work...She did the last 'Jane Eyre' with Toby Stephens as well as 'North & South' with Richard Armitage.
I love her work too summer! Her version of Jane Eyre was very well done. It's one of my favorites. And I ADORE North and South with Richard Armitage. It's completely perfect IMO, 10 stars. I own it on DVD and have watched it many times. I'm an avid fan of Armitage - I think he's completely gorgeous as well as incredibly talented. I've not read Gaskell's N&S, but supergran said it's not in the best format for an easy read. I believe she said it was written in serials. Because of that she said Welch had quite a challenge in adapting it, and in her opinion, did a wonderful job though the made Thornton a bit more dangerous and broody (I confess, I like him like that!). The fact that Welch 's resulting GLORIOUS adaptation was constructed from a series of writings impressed me all the more.
It is not really that difficult to read. I could see Welch'es adaptaion underneath it. If that makes sense.
I though Armitage was wonderful in the adaptation, the best I ever saw him actually. I love the adaption, and not just because I could pick out some of the locations in it. I actually have a photo of my daughter when she was twelve standing on the same steps that in the series led to where Brendan Coyles' character was supposed to live. The step's Thornton walks down that are hung with purple cloth. A lot of the locations were in Edinburgh. The Old Town in Edinburgh is practically unchanged from the Victorian era. It's fun sometimes doing that, I have another photo of us in Hampton Court and there is part of a set that was left standing from when they filmed 'Little Dorrit'. And of course Chatsworth is constantly being used.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I agree with you on David Morrisey in "Our Mutal Friend" it's really the only role I've ever really liked him in. Maybe because he seems so intense to me in everything he does. I think he would be a great Alex in Tess of the d'Urbervilles or a good George Osborn in Vanity Fair, a character with a lot of energy and passion but I just don't find him restrained enough to play one of Austen's heroes. I'll admit I like Elinor and Edward in this version more than I like Emma and Hugh (though I like them both generally) but honestly this version's Marianne, Brandon and Wiloughby just make me cringe. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and this is mine.
Freedom of religion means ALL religions not just your own.
David Morrisay is great in 'Our Mutual Friend'. That intensity could have been channelled into Brandon but the script and the direction insisted that he portray Col. Action Man Brandon instead of intense Col. Brandon. That error coloured the entire production.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Over on the 1995 S&S board, webrowser and I had made some references to "Northanger Abbey;" she noted how Catherine Moreland would have swooned over David Morrissey's Colonel Brandon.
And it hit me - that is precisely the problem with the 2008 Brandon - just look at him - the effort in this film, largely successful, is to render Colonel Brandon a classic romantic hero. He is tall, handsome, athletic, dashing, assertively masculine, passionate - he is much more all of these things than Dominic Cooper's Willoughby, who looks like a nasty and callow boy beside the Colonel. Brandon also loves music and enters into Marianne's tastes. And, throughout the 2008 adaptation, Brandon is as willing to set propriety at naught as even Marianne could wish.
He is, therefore, much more Marianne's girlish fantasy hero than Willoughby, except that he is on the wrong side of 35. This makes Marianne look like a mule-headed ninny, since everything she is looking for is available in much greater measure and a more appealing package in the man than the boy.
It also thoroughly trivializes the arc of Marianne's story. The cardinal point, as Austen give it to us, is that Marianne has been looking for externals - good looks, dash, overt masculinity, and shared tastes, believing these will be a guarantee of the inner qualities of honor and merit, true love, and harmonious life.
In Austen's view, this is an error so great that Marianne must find, through shattering heartbreak and near-deathly illness, and the changed perspective they provide, that externals are not what she should be seeking.
And she is happy, in the end, to find Colonel Brandon, with none of the outward qualities her former ideal hero possessed, but all of the inward merit, honor, and profound, steadfast love, that she assumed the outer signs would betoken.
If she merely awakens to the fact that in Brandon, she can "have it all," the whole package, there is no maturing of her values illustrated, which basically writes Austen's whole point out of Marianne's ultimate choice.
Marianne, in this version, has made a much less fundamental error in focusing on externals than the novel pointedly tells us she has. So she suffers temporarily hurt feelings, a very bad cold, and falls in love with a better romantic hero directly.
So wrong. So trivializing, even dismissive, of Austen's arc for Marianne. Blecherous.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I'm one of those who found the 30 year age disparity between Winslet and Rickman rather "icky", and quite liked Morrissey for the reason that, among other things, he doesn't appear quite so old. However you make a valid argument for Brandon being the antithesis of what Marianne thinks she's looking for. Thanks for your insight.
My favourite literary "hero" is Rochester, but he is rarely played by an ugly actor. Nor, for that matter, is Jane. This tends to diminish somewhat the story of two rather ugly ducklings finding each other! Different, I know, to the point you are making.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
Why do you consistently change the context of someone's posts so that it appears that they agree with you. Supergran's post that she adressed to Locusnola was this;
I'm one of those who found the 30 year age disparity between Winslet and Rickman rather "icky", and quite liked Morrissey for the reason that, among other things, he doesn't appear quite so old.However you make a valid argument for Brandon being the antithesis of what Marianne thinks she's looking for. Thanks for your insight.
She is agreeing with Locus that Morrisey's Brandon is all wrong because of those things that you seem to think are so important. Your reading comprehension is so skewed at times Sassy. I think that the only person on these boards who thinks that Morrisey is a good Brandon is you. And just because a person might think that Rickman is too old that doesn't mean they think Morrisey is just right. One does not presuppose the other. You do know what that means don't you?
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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Good for Supergran. That however has nothing to do with me. And it still doesn't change the fact that you are the only one who thinks Morrisey's Brandon is an accurate depiction of Brandon. Enjoying Morrisey's Brandon is not the same as thinking he's Brandon. He actually gave a very good performance as Regency Action Man. He just isn't Brandon.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Like I said, I can read and that includes all the old posts. Sassy you have managed to annoy in other words you have managed to piss off most of the people on this board, do you really want to include me in that number?
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
ETA: Rather than referring to the 2008 Brandon as "passionate," which is inspecific, I should have said, "acts with impulsive passion." Which we see him do - he descends upon the Dashwoods the day after meeting them, without invitation, he challenges a fellow guest in another man's house, he demands information about a fellow guest of his host (a separate occasion), he begins undressing a young lady in her bed. A most impulsive man, unrestrained by the mores of polite social intercourse of the time.
I was very careful to make NO reference to anything but the 2008 adaptation and the novel; I knew at least one poster (not you) would have to drag in a bash at poor Mr. Rickman. I admit that, as an actress and a woman, I feel "icky" when people disparage nastily (not that you have, at least here) what I think is a marvelous, emotionally sensitive and resonant, and profoundly romantic characterization.
But then, my own sensibilities rather combine Jane Austen's tartness with an Addams Family eccentricity. Those with perhaps more mainstream tastes may well see things differently. But I have never had a problem with people disagreeing with me, if the manner is courteous, as yours is (thank you!).
A few years ago, I marathoned for about 2 weeks every single "Jane Eyre" I could get my hands on, and I got them all from 1944 to the 2011 one. My favorite was the 1972, both Sorcha Cusak and Michael Jayston lack any conventional good looks, and I thought it was marvelous overall, though I rarely like the mini-series from the 1970s and 1980s much.
If you are at all interested on my take as to the 1995 Brandon-Marianne arc, you can find some of the more salient observations here:
BTW, here's what supergran had to say back in 2012:
And I stand by what I said two years ago. Rickman WAS too old for the part. But the discussion has now turned to the WAY that Brandon should be portrayed.
I happen to like Morrissey's performance, but the ladies here have made me think. Davies HAS gone beyond what is written, and created an action hero. All galloping about. But I would venture to say that both '95 and '08 are guilty of this to a lesser or greater degree. Both have Brandon charging off like bats out of hell at Barton Park, both have him valiantly rescuing Marianne in a monsoon at Cleveland (although 08 takes the melodrama a stage further).
Now, I'm not averse to these changes myself, but they have to be acknowledged.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain. reply share
supergran, you are right about the two "rescue of Marianne" scenes - they are invented, but the 1995 film uses that scene to show us Brandon as expending every bit of strength he can summon, pushing himself beyond his limits, in Marianne's service.
Contrasted, of course with Willoughby, to whom Marianne was as "a dried leaf;" he did what was easy to do.
Since the 2008 Brandon is bigger, stronger, and more athletic than Willoughby, there is no contrast presented, and no greater meaning to the scene than to show us, yet again, Colonel Regency Action Figure.
Thompson and Ang Lee also twin Brandon's exertion with Marianne's, when, as he effaces himself to leave the family together, Marianne now out of danger, she reaches out to him, so weakly, with her voice. She breathes "thank you" with the last bit of air from her wasted lungs - she and Brandon are thus shown in spiritual kinship - they have done right by one another to the utmost - and beyond - of their strength.
I think this is profoundly beautiful.
Aside, at least the 1995 Brandon doesn't barge about, aggressively demanding to know Marianne's whereabouts of his host, nor attempt to undress the girl, nor conduct an intimate interview with neither of them dressed, in her bed behind closed doors - Marianne would be irretrievably ruined by this, why doesn't Brandon care about that?
ETA: And why didn't Andrew Davies?
Morrissey is a terrific actor, I'd never say different. But this Brandon is a completely new character, not at all what Jane Austen wrote. Rickman, age notwithstanding, is light years closer (props, of course, to Thompson and Lee also on this).
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I happen to like Morrissey's performance, but the ladies here have made me think. Davies HAS gone beyond what is written, and created an action hero.....Now, I'm not averse to these changes myself, but they have to be acknowledged.
Thank you for commenting supergran. I too still enjoy Morrissey's portrayal, even though his assertive behaviors are out of character for the Brandon that Austen wrote.
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I cannot tell you how excited I am about this recent revelation regarding Morrissey's Brandon being, from the start, an obvious better choice over Willoughby in 2008. As a matter of fact, his age - which in 2008 is the main reason Marianne discounts him - only makes him appear as self-assured, confident man to Cooper's boyish Willoughby. In 2008, Willoughby's youth almost appears as more of a drawback than an asset. In his attempt to romanticize Brandon, it seems that Davies made him TOO wonderful. Oops!
In his attempt to romanticize Brandon, it seems that Davies made him TOO wonderful.
Well, too wonderful, certainly, if one shares Marianne's pre-maturity view of what men should be. Personally, speaking as an adult woman, I'd rather NOT have a man who was perfectly willing to ruin my reputation forever by closing the door on us unclad when I was (supposedly) too ill to know what I was doing. But, of course, Marianne starts out admiring that sort of thing . . . in Austen's novel, she learns better, but not in Davies' script.
Certainly, there is absolutely no textual support for his cutting so fine, dashing, impulsively assertive and conventionally romantic a figure, trailing clouds of testosterone in his wake.
Figuratively speaking, a long-awaited touch of fingertips, or bodice-ripping? Which is Austenian? Neon letters 10 feet high, or subtle observation?
I think you and I will agree as to the answers . . .
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Certainly, there is absolutely no textual support for his cutting so fine, dashing, impulsively assertive and conventionally romantic a figure, trailing clouds of testosterone in his wake.
My goodness yes, locus. He does overshadow poor Willoughby in 2008.
I found this of great interest on Jane Austen Wikia. It sums up the character of Colonel Brandon, and in my very firm opinion - this apt description is fleshed out much more closely by Rickman's portrayal in 95.
Colonel Brandon: Ever heard the expression, "Still waters run deep"? That's basically Colonel Brandon. On the outside, he's a quiet guy – at 35, he's a bachelor approaching middle age, and he doesn't seem to have any family to speak of. He's dignified and well-to-do, but beyond that, we don't get much from first impressions. The Colonel appears to be rather dull to the insensitive eye, but beneath his tranquil surface, there's a whole lot going on. Elinor is the first to appreciate this, but gradually, other characters (including, finally, Marianne , when she decides to marry him) realizes that he's a whole lot more than meets the eye.
First of all, Colonel Brandon is clearly a sensitive soul, even though his exterior seems unflappable and even rather remote. He's the only person who appreciates Marianne's music the same way she does – respectfully and thoughtfully – and we get the impression that his quiet persona hides a deeply intellectual inner self. Colonel Brandon is also by far the character with the most significant emotional trauma to deal with, which he manages to do in an admirably mature, applause-worthy fashion. He's the ultimate combination of feeling and logic, and comes off as the only real grownup in this whole cast of characters.
All in all, Colonel Brandon may seem to be on the boring side, but he's actually not – he's just more under control than the other folks we meet here. We don't get to know him too well, but we can imagine that he's a pretty rewarding friend to have, once you get past his rather stiff exterior.
I don't see Davies' more assertive, romanticized Brandon mirroring this very clear description of Austen's Brandon. I do see Thompson's Brandon mirroring it quite well, however. reply share
webrowser, thanks for this - I've read the Wikia on Brandon. It is absolutely in keeping with Austen's Brandon. And yes, indeed, Thompson's and Rickman's Brandon captures this - the inner man is not what the outer appears - to the insensitive eye. Keynote, that.
And, if you add up everything, Brandon's emotional blows are greater than anyone else's. The whole tragic Eliza back-story, love for Marianne he believes can never be returned (in the novel, as in the 1995 film, he never overtly courts her until after her illness, he certainly doesn't thrust himself on the unpacking family barely acquainted with him), then the second Eliza, or Beth, then Marianne's almost-death.
I can't see how anyone could fail to be happy for this man, when his long-suffering, so-true heart is rewarded at last.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
What do you call his continual visits to Barton after she is visibly upset and embarrassed by his staring when they met. Now that was showing herself to be embarrassed. there is no such comparable scen in the 1995 film and please don't say she was embarrassed when he gave her the knife, She was relieved to get it.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Oh yes she is. When she is playing at Barton Hall she looks up sees him staring and looks down and away from him...and she doesn't look at him again.
And why shouldn't she misinterpret him, after all we are still waiting to hear his compliment, if he did mean to compliment her that is. And then he intrudes on the family without an invitation, even though he knows full well they have just moved in.
And why would Marianne be used to empty compliments? Are you saying that her instructors and every single person she played before she came to Barton were ignorant of music? That Elinor was ignorant, her mother and father? You seem to be assuming a heck of a lot about something we are given absolutely no information about. You seem to be saying that the only person in England who knows about music is and can comment intelligently is Brandon. Somehow I don't think that's the case.
You are quite correct that there is no such comparable scene in the 1995 film, because Rickman's Brandon NEVER connects with Winslet's Marianne in the way that Morrissey's Brandon does with Wakefield's Marianne. If Winslet's Marianne is meant to be relieved at receiving the knife, then her facial expression in that scene is a really odd way of showing it. She doesn't thank him (although, to be fair, he doesn't say a word to her, either) and she doesn't even smile - she just takes the knife and turns back to her task. She looks distinctly uncomfortable.
You worded that wrongly. Rickman's Brandon never forces himself on Winslett's Marianne. And you are quite correct, there is not real connection between them at this time. She sees him as an old man and he doesn't push himself forward. He gives her the knife as a gentlemanly act, he doesn't loom over her, forcing her in any way to be with him. You do seem to have a problem with watching a film in which a relationship is shown to grow over time. Maybe that's because in the 2008 production Brandon is too much the alpha male to let a relationship grow naturally. He is always trying to force the issue.
And as Rickman's Brandon is not shown to creep in any way, I am left again puzzled by which film you watched. You see a man standing behind someone while looking in a different direction who then turns around, sees her having trouble with breaking the reeds, hands her his knife and then stands up and walks away is not exactly creeping. Have you always had trouble discerning what is happening in a film? I think you just want to describe it in the worst possible way for some reason known only to you. But when what you describe is dramatically different from what anyone watching the film actually sees. it makes you look petty. Stop doing it please, you are only damaging your own credibility. How can anybody take what you say about the 2008 production seriously when you distort and exaggerate everything in this film?
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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Marianne's instructors were NOT ignorant, of course, but I have always suspected that it has been a few years since she last had formal instruction. She is 17, after all. Elinor, in both the novel and S&S 2008, is an artist, not a musician. She is very intelligent and has a healthy curiosity about many subjects, and therefore may not be entirely ignorant of music, but I doubt that she is in any way capable of discussing it on Marianne's level. What about Mrs. Dashwood? I couldn't say for certain. She seems to be the sort of indulgent mother who probably would have nothing but effusive praise for anything Marianne chose to play and sing. And, of course, we know very, very little about Mr. Dashwood.
She is sixteen and like all upper class girls in the 19th Century she would have had an education in music and drawing. As would Elinor. This happened, and then these young ladies were expected to show off their accomplishments to their parents guests. What you quite blatantly are saying is that Mrs Dashwood can't be trusted, Elinor can't be trusted and that Marianne has been lied to her entire life about her musical ability. That the only one who knows enough about music and has the self confidence to expound that knowledge to her was Morissey's Brandon. And you are acting like Marianne had a professional interest in music. She didn't, it was a pastime not a profession. And it was one that was acknowledged in the film because Brandon got her a piano.
Now this is a departure from the book, Morrisey's Brandon makes a huge departure from the books with his constant visits to Barton Cottage. These are attempts to flesh out the character in both productions. The big difference is in the 2008 production Brandon is pushy and assertive from the moment he meets Marianne and Rickman's Brandon is courtous and caring and gives her a gift after he has known her for a long time. Timing is everything, Rickman's Brandon gives the gift when he is sure it won't offend Marianne, Moriisey's Brandon never seems to think that he is intruding. It's like he thinks Marianne has no choice but to like him.
I think it would be a mistake to discount the smile on the face of Wakefield's Marianne when she looks up at Morrissey's Brandon as he is turning the pages for her at Barton Park. IMO, her smile shows that she is happy to be with him and grateful for the assistance.
And I think including such a scene in the first place is destroying Brandon and Marianne's story arc. But then Davies isn't shy about showing how his Brandon is such a better creation that Austen's one. Davies' Brandon is such a gorgeous man, Marianne can't help but be flattered and fluttery by his attentions. That is just one of Davies' major errors IMO. Marianne's story arc, which is one of the major themes of the novel is that she has to grow into loving Brandon and that takes awhile. In this stupid production Brandon is presented as such a fabulous catch she looks like a foolish child for preferring Willoughby. Thus Marianne's journey to maturity is wiped out.
Nor, IMO, is there ever any connection between them after that scene.
Yes Sassy, you have already established you like the fake romance to a real love story.
In your previous post, you specifically said that Winslet's Marianne is "relieved" after receiving the knife. But she never smiles and never thanks Rickman's Brandon. What is it you notice about her body language, facial expression, etc., that makes you see "relief"? I am genuinely curious.
She is shown quite clearly being frustrated and at the end of her tether trying to break the reeds. She gives a frustrated sigh that Brandon hears. He turns and proffers the knife. She accepts it, he stands and leaves. This all without a word being spoken. Brandon walks away and Marianne holds the knife looking at it and the reeds. She then cuts a reed and turns her head and looks after him. There is a slight quizzical look on her face. No dialogue is used at all in the scene, we have to depend on the body language and the motion of her head. Brandon doesn't do anything but proffer the knife and then leaves. She is the one shown looking between the knife, the reeds and Brandon's departure. Her posture which was slightly slumped and bent over the reeds changes. We see the ease with which she is now cutting the reeds and her glance after him twice. there is no sign of anything else in the scene except that Brandon noticed her distress and gave her the knife without making a fuss or a big thing out of it. She took the knife and used it. That was her relief. It is a quiet scene, but it is a moment where we see quite clearly that Brandon notices Marianne in a very quiet fashion. The last thing the scene is, is creepy. If he had been kneeling beside her or looking at her before and after that could make it creepy, but he does none of these things. He simply solves her problem and leaves.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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You are correct, summeriris, and I don't doubt that Elinor might have had some education in music, but I do very much doubt that she is knowledgeable about it on Marianne's level. Where does it say in the book that Elinor is musical?
Where does it say she isn't knowledgeable about it?
No, what I am saying is that I don't think there is any evidence that Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor are particularly musical. I think there IS evidence that Mrs. Dashwood is indulgent toward Marianne because she understands her so well (as they are very much alike!), and has been this way for most of Marianne's life. I never said that Marianne was "lied to" about her musical ability.
So Marianne grew up in a musical vacuum?
IMO, he certainly isn't FORCING or PRESSURING her to like him. He gives her some music, compliments her on her talents by reassuring her that she is more than capable of learning the piece, and we see him at Barton Park turning the pages for her. She later indicates that she enjoyed his company - and appreciated his knack for intelligent conversation - until Mrs. Jennings interfered and spoiled it for her.
Constantly calling uninvited to a household is forcing yourself on it.
But you were saying earlier that you think Morrissey's Brandon is pushy and irritating, and that Wakefield's Marianne is annoyed with his behavior. Which is your real interpretation?
I wasn't clear enough I see. Davies wrote his Brandon in this way so the the audience would think that Marianne should be flattered and fluttery about his attentions. This is a complete departure from Austen's Brandon. But then Davies didn't write about Austen's Brandon. He created his own brand new and all action Brandon.
IMO, S&S 2008 shows REAL romance and a REAL love story. I would agree that the novel has a real love story, as well, because Austen makes it clear that Marianne grows to love Brandon with her whole heart. S&S 1995 gives no indication that Winslet's Marianne ever loves Brandon (and, IMO, the evidence shows that Rickman's Brandon is more "in lust" than "in love" with her), so how is it a "love story"?
Yes I know that you think the 2008 production is a 'real love' story, and on it's own level it probably is. It's just not Austen's story, Davies took Austen's story, borrowed a few plot points and character names and wrote his own story, No law against it, it just isn't very good. You like it, I just think it's a pity that you do. And you are attacking the film again to try and prove your point about this poor job of a love story. Why can't you just defend the 2008 production. Is attacking the film the only recourse you have when someone points out how bad the 2008 production is. I'm serious here, the film is not the series, they are two different things. But you constantly drag it into your posts. It's pointless. _____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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Elinor never discusses music with Marianne, and she is never described as knowing how to play the piano. Since Elinor is NOT shown to have any particular musical talents in the book, doesn't it make sense to conclude that she is NOT particularly knowledgeable? Again, I never said that she is necessarily ignorant of everything to do with music. That would be ridiculous.
She never discusses going to the toilet with her either, but she must know that Marianne voids her bodily wastes. This isn't like Morrisey's sudden knowledge of hypothermia that came out of nowhere. You are talking about two girls, very close in age who grew up together. Just as they know how to read, they will both have been educated in their accomplishments. And just as Marianne knows enough about art to speak knowledgeably about Elinor's art, Elinor would know enough about music to read, play and appreciate music. This is something that Austen would expect her readers to know and understand because it was part of their daily lives, because it had been part of their education.
It is possible that, with the exception of her instructors, she may have grown up not knowing anyone else with her level of interest and talent in music.
That's a very elitist thing to say, I'm sorry Sassy it is. I can't hold a tune to save my life and I can't play a musical instrument. That doesn't stop me from going to hear operas and the Scottish National Orchestra as well as Willie Neldon and The Drifters. It doesn't stop me from listening to music here on my computer in any way. If musicians depended only on other musicians for feedback they would be in big trouble.
I know that the film and the series are two different things, summeriris. I have defended S&S 2008's love story in almost every possible way that there is to defend it. What more do I need to say?
No you haven't really. You have defended Morrisey's depiction of Brandon, You have defended Wakfield's physical build and you have stated over and over again that they have 'chemistry'. You haven;t really exolained why you think the 'love story' works in detail. You haven't said how it makes sense that Wakefield's Marianne does a heel turn and why we should accept her declaration that she has fallen in love with Brandon with absolutely no evidence of her maturing enough to really love someone other than her own fantasies. You haven't done that. All you have done is declare over and over that the scens showing her being trained like an animal sre not really scenes that show her being trained like an animal.
If you care about the 1995 film so much, then why not answer this question: S&S 1995 gives no indication that Winslet's Marianne ever loves Brandon (and, IMO, the evidence shows that Rickman's Brandon is more "in lust" than "in love" with her), so how is it a "love story"?
Actually I have, several times. The film does not show Marianne falling in love with Brandon because it is faithful to the novel in this respect. The book states and the film follows this, that Marianne did not love Brandon when she married him. The film shows friendship and respect and that is what the novel says. How many times have I said to you, it's not love's young dream, it never was love's young dream. But Marianne respected and esteemed Brandon in the novel and that is what the film depicts. Her esteem, his love. She looks like a happy bride on her wedding day and that is a hopeful sign that she will be happy in her marriage. You really don't lik ethis but it's exactly what Austen wrote True love happened for Marianne after her wedding, not before.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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The difference is that Marianne's music is relevant to the story. Besides, if Elinor is supposed to be very knowledgeable about music (and keep in mind that I never said she ISN'T knowledgeable - just that I doubt she is knowledgeable and passionate enough to satisfy Marianne), then why did Austen never mention this?
Maybe because Elinor is not as passionate about music as Marianne is. And music is not as big a part of the story as all that. It's Marianne's main way of passing the time but she doesn't make it the centre of her life, she doesn't Sassy. And none of that doesn't mean that Elinor can't appreciate it in a knowledgeable way. Why are you ignoring the middle ground in this question? There is a middle ground, it isn't as simple as Marainne music, Elinor painting...end of.
How is it "elitist" to say, as I did, that Marianne "may have grown up not knowing anyone else with her level of interest and talent in music"? Some people have a great interest in music. Having musical talent is certainly NOT necessary for a person to express an interest in music (although the two are often connected), and I never said that it was.
You implied it Sassy. Don't deny you didn't Sassy, you did.
OK, here's the short version. Morrissey's Brandon and Wakefield's Marianne share an interest in and passion for music. They are passionate and educated people who, according to Wakefield's Marianne, are able to converse intelligently with each other. Wakefield's Marianne initially thinks that Morrissey's Brandon is too old and boring to be a potential romantic interest for her, but after she learns of his very tragic and romantic past and sees for herself how deeply kind and devoted he is (after he carries her in from the rain and rides to Barton to fetch her mother), her feelings for him begin to change. The scenes at Delaford are meant to show, partly through symbolism, her developing feelings and growing closeness with him.
Your probably correct that that was Davies intended way for the story to go, Your problem with me is that I think that's hogwash and so far from Austen's story that it might as well be in another galaxy. And he didn't pull it off well. Wakefild's Marainne stays a child and Morrisey's Brandon comes off as a bully. Davies just ins't that good at creating his own story, he is quite good when he sticks to adapting someone else's story. You like it, fine. I like some bad movies as well. There is nothing wrong with liking a bad adaptation, just odn't be surprised when other people start pointing out where and how it fails.
Then why the heck have you repeatedly referred to the 1995 film's Brandon/Marianne subplot as a "love story"? As I have said before, it clearly ISN'T one, and it's good to see you finally agreeing.
And I have repeatedly said the love story happens afterwards. It's not my fault you have trouble understanding that. How many times have I posted that the book isn't a romance. Davies pile of bilge is a romance, a poor one IMO but that's what it is. Austen's novel and the film are not.
The novel makes it clear that Marianne DOES grow to love Brandon, so it is quite different from the 1995 film, where there is never any indication that this ever happens.
And I know I have pointed out to you more than once that it end's with the wedding.You keep ignoring that fact. It's hard for a film to show whatr happened after the wedding when it ends with the wedding.
Not at all; I like Austen's novel very much, and I appreciate Marianne's character arc. I was merely objecting to your earlier assertions that the 1995 film's adaptation of this is a "love story." However, I'm glad that you have cleared up your views on that.
As I have never once posted that Sassy I don't appreciate being called a liar.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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Then it would seem that we have a case of crossed wires and I was not clear enough. The love story between Marianne and Brandon in Jane Austen's novel and in the film happens after the marriage, not before. If I wasn't clear before, I am now.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
There is no love story, there is however a sweet and very nice friendship. 'Love stories' are too sweet and saccharine for me. I prefer Austen's pragmatism and satire every time. But then I like Dumbledore, prefer 'Sherbet Lemons' to chocolate.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Sassy, you really should stop trying to say what I think. You'r not very good at it. I never said I hate the novel or the film depictions of Marianne and Brandon, I do however hate Davies botched up job of depicting them.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Not at all. It's true a lot of the so-called romantic films give me a toothache but Austen is not at all romantic. She doesn't write about falling in love as being the be all and end all of a story. She writes bout people who 'love' as opposed to people who 'fall in love'. Marianne doesn't 'fall in love' with Brandon, she comes to 'love' him. If you can't see the difference, I can't help you.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
...Which is basically my point. I said in my original response about the musical aptitude of Marianne's family that Elinor does not seem to be anywhere near as interested in - or, if you prefer, passionate about - music as Marianne. In fact, we are never really shown Elinor expressing ANY interest in music, so IMO it is quite a stretch to assume that she is musical.
I think you missed the first word of my post, it was 'MAYBE'. And simply because we never see Elinor playing an instrument does not by any means mean that she does not appreciate good music. Sassy you seem driven to place people into boxes of your own definition. Simply because Elinor does not play the piano in the novel and book does not mean she cannot and it does not mean she cannot understand and appreciate good music. Life does not work like that and your boxes are very restrictive.
Yes, I did not deny that she can probably appreciate it in a knowledgeable way, but I just doubt that she can appreciate it on the SAME LEVEL that Marianne appreciates it.
And your doubts are good because they show you don't know.
Well, in the novel, it appears that it IS that simple. Austen doesn't say that Elinor plays the piano or sings, and she doesn't say that Marianne paints. I agree that the LACK of these things being mentioned does not necessarily mean that they are not there, but it also doesn't mean that they ARE in the story. Didn't you say earlier that if something is not stated or shown in a film (or, in this case, a book), then it can be assumed that it is not part of the story?
Very true, what can be assessed is the factual base of the society in which Jane Austen grew up in and how that society worked. In that society young women were all given a grounding in the arts. Jane Austen knew her society and she knew what would not need explaining. Such as her protagonists education in music and drawing. She expounds on these things in her other novels so we know she knew what was expected of Marianne and Elinor. This red herring isn't working Sassy.
So is this an "elitist" remark? I don't think so. I think you know perfectly well that it is not. I would argue, though, that MARIANNE certainly has some "elitist" tendencies, and would probably look down on people whom she felt to be far below her level of competence.
Marianne certainly looked down on people's ignorance of music before she grew up. She matured after she nearly died. After that she began to appreciate people and not just the music. After the illness Marianne began to appreciate a lot that she had ignored before including her own behaviour And Sassy, you are not Marianne.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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But it doesn't, Sass. I am sorry you can't see it, but that timeline is present, though slightly moved up for valid dramatic considerations, and most (I do believe, on the evidence, not merely here but elsewhere, too, that "most" is accurate) viewers feel assured that this is a very happy ending for Marianne as well as Brandon, that she will, indeed, come to love him as much as he loves her, and will be as happy in that love as she will make him. I have never heard, nor seen, anyone but yourself suggest any taint of mercenariness on Marianne's part, nor possessiveness on Brandon's. Never, anywhere. The consensus does seem to be, rather, that there is great pleasure and satisfaction in Marianne's face, and truly joyous, deep love on Brandon's.
That alone, of course, does not invalidate your opinion, but most see so very much an opposite effect, it looks too much like animus looking for evil on your part, and finding it because you bring it to put there.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I feel rather like Charlie Brown running at that football - again. But:
I agree that Elinor is shown, in the novel, and all the adaptations, to have taken on a great deal of responsibility - more than is fair to her to have to do. And yes, also, it is shown that almost every character recognizes, at least subconsciously, that she is the practical, if not the nominal, head of the Dashwood family - at least, rather, of her nuclear portion of it (the 1995 creative team has her, in effect, assuming the role of pater familias; this has been explicitly noted).
Elinor must provide sensible guidance to her own mother, which is a very difficult position for a young woman, she must TRY to temper Marianne's reckless behavior, she must make sure Margaret is looked after. Elinor, we also see, bears a good portion of the responsibility for maintaining courteous relations with their community - although Mrs. Dashwood does very well in this vein, also (this, in twinning Mrs. Dashwood's and Elinor's efforts, further suggests Elinor's effectual parity with her mother in position).
I don't feel we are likely to get anywhere discussing adapted Brandons; however, I suggest that webrowser, summeriris, and I have quite well illustrated that, for us, there is plenty of support in the 1995 film's narrative action for a very different interpretation than yours. Much of this is non-verbal, but film does allow for "showing" rather than "telling;" you yourself have noted this. "Showing" does not require dialogue, indeed, there is all too often conflict within a work between what dialogue states and what narrative action shows; this is the main reason the question of "show" versus "tell" arises to begin with.
You have elsewhere noted that you refrain from agreement in an effort to limit the length of your posts and to avoid being boring. Those are, of course, not invalid goals of themselves, but I found it, eventually, boring to have my own analyses either ignored or stridently and combatively - and yes, you have been often strident and combative in manner - though not here - contradicted, without any acknowledgement that I have supported my argument, even if you do not see what I do. It came to seem to me as if (please note I am taking care to qualify this as my perception) you regarded others' posts principally as a platform for restating your own opinions.
I post this, not in any way as accusation, but in explanation of why I have for a bit stopped replying to you. You have taken an entirely different tone here, which I appreciate. I am glad to discuss - and, perhaps, explore - with you in this tenor.
Let me further suggest that even in general agreement, summeriris, webrowser and I have provided one another with fresh insights; I think we have all found this interesting and enjoyable, rather than boring.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
What particular incidents in the novel do you think show this "twinning"?
It's been to long since I've read it through to be able to respond fully-informedly. It is more, I think, a suggestion, an under-current, and it is possibly more strongly suggested (non-verbally) in both the 1995 and 2008 adaptations than in the novel.
I did not mean to suggest that I don't think the 2008 Elinor is very clearly shown as essentially the head of her family - she is, indeed, IMO - I was only noting the specific way the 1995 film addresses and illustrates this. I think the 2008 does not take that tack, but the dramatic choices, if different, still bring us to the result that Elinor is way over-burdened with responsibility. She handles it, but it is more than she should be tasked with, and it takes a bit of a toll. She does not feel able to confide in her family, her reserve deepens. A little more, in the 1995 film, for me, but it is there in the 2008 as well, I feel.
Perhaps Elinor's responsibility for her mother and Marianne, because it is unnatural to her position, effectively estranges her, very slightly, from what should be her natural relations with them, if you will. This is not explicit in the novel, but I think it is valid subtext, and makes Elinor more interesting, from a dramatic point of view.
As for the 2008 Brandon, I am close to summeriris' opinion. I don't go quite as far, but very close, yes. I really do feel that this Brandon, as written, directed, and acted, is a completely different character from Austen's, behaves with great lack of propriety, even sometimes real rudeness, on numerous occasions, and unbalances the entire story to a lamentable degree. I'm able to compartmentalize the 2008 adaptation more, I think, than summeriris, and, if I read her correctly, find more enjoyment in the parts of it I admire. This may have to do with the fact that, with my many years of acting experience, one of the principal enjoyments for me in any filmed piece is good acting, and the acting is, as I have always maintained, at a very high level.
With regard to Rickman's Brandon, I think all three of us are close, but is anyone ever precisely, completely in lockstep with anyone else? We each have our own emotional "locks," but it appears that Rickman's, Thompson's, and Lee's Brandon is a "key" that fits, for each of us. That's a metaphor which could be misconstrued - please don't - I am not going to change it now, but I intend no double entendre.
I hope I have not shown and lack of understanding or respect for summeriris or webrowser, for whom I have great regard, and who have each provided insights that I am most grateful for.
It may be best not to lump, generally.
ETA: And I mean that with application to myself, henceforth, as well.
I was not thinking of any particular incident in any Austen-related work with the "show versus tell" comment; it was a general observation, and the best example I know of of is very far afield of the subject(s) of the S&S boards.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Morahan is a lovely Elinor. I have elsewhere, in a post to webrowser, remarked her uncommonly beautiful voice, as well. I can't tell how trained it is; from the sound, she may merely have excellent natural production, but it is an exceptional vocal instrument, and well-produced, fully supported. I take great pleasure in listening to her. And she does, indeed, have a very expressive face.
I do agree with a point webrowser made, that showing Elinor letting out her feelings by beating carpets is a misstep at that point in the story, and with summeriris that it's rather silly. Doesn't spoil Morahan's performance for me, though, none of the flaws in the 2008 adaptation manages that, even the ones I consider truly egregious - she is, again, just lovely in the role.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
it appears that Rickman's, Thompson's, and Lee's Brandon is a "key" that fits, for each of us.
Yes, I completely agree with you. Everything about Rickman's portrayal met my personal expectations of the ideal Brandon. He did a wonderful job in bringing Austen's Brandon to the screen for me. S&S 95's Brandon was brilliantly written, brilliantly directed, and brilliantly acted IMO.
I hope I have not shown and lack of understanding or respect for summeriris or webrowser, for whom I have great regard, and who have each provided insights that I am most grateful for.
Not at all locus! You've been extremely astute, and accommodating - as has summer. It's been wonderful to share in these discussions with you both. I too have gained much insight thanks to your various observations.
As for the 2008 Brandon, I am close to summeriris' opinion. I don't go quite as far, but very close, yes. I really do feel that this Brandon, as written, directed, and acted, is a completely different character from Austen's, behaves with great lack of propriety, even sometimes real rudeness, on numerous occasions, and unbalances the entire story to a lamentable degree.
From our discussions, I believe I see Morrissey's Brandon in a more positive light than you and summer. I'm aware of his marked differences from Austen's Brandon, and I've noticed his lack of propriety too - which does boggle the mind at times. But it doesn't keep me from enjoying his performance, or appreciating the effort made by the writer, director, and actor.
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Well, too wonderful, certainly, if one shares Marianne's pre-maturity view of what men should be. [] Personally, speaking as an adult woman, I'd rather NOT have a man who was perfectly willing to ruin my reputation forever by closing the door on us unclad when I was (supposedly) too ill to know what I was doing. But, of course, Marianne starts out admiring that sort of thing . . . in Austen's novel, she learns better, but not in Davies' script.
Locus, do you think that Davies took a gamble that it wouldn't bother the modern audience, when he put in the social improprieties that Brandon commits? Did Davies think that we (the audience) would be so entranced by the romantic, beefed-up, Brandon that we wouldn't be concerned that he didn't always behave as he should?
I know it doesn't bother some at all, but it stands out like a sore thumb to others at the same time.
It didn't bother me to the point I couldn't enjoy the mini-series, but I admit to a raised eyebrow or two at "the smolder during Marianne's piano playing", "ill-timed visit on the Dashwoods", "questioning Willoughby's intentions", and "beginning to unlace Marianne's bodice". I didn't even notice the "hand-holding on the bed" the first time - but now that's another one as well.
I wonder if Davies thought those improprieties would come across as romantic masculine sureness - rather than bad manners, and poor impulse control?
I;m torn as to what to speculate, webrowser. Part of me wonders, as you wonder, whether he simply figured we wouldn't notice, or that, if we did, we wouldn't care. And, we know, there are those who didn't notice, and when it is brought to their attention, don't care.
But I wonder, too, whether Davies rather fell in love with his Brandon, and got carried away. Because his sense of appropriate behavior was spot-on, or very nearly so, in the 1995 P&P and quite passable in "Emma" (the breaches in the latter are largely the effect of truncations and having to shoehorn necessary speeches into very limited screen time, and what should be said tete-a-tete between characters comes out in company). Summeriris has suggested that Sue Birtwistle, who produces both the P&P and the "Emma," but not the 2008 S&S, may have had a salutary effect on Davies' work; she may be right.
If summeriris is right, and Morrissey is onscreen 75% of the time, this is a huge imbalance of the novel's focus. I would bet that less than 25% of the novels pages deal with scenes in which Brandon is even present, let alone the focus (and Morrissey's Brandon is somehow always the focus if he's in the scene - OK, that's a bit hyperbolic, but not much).
My bones tell me it's the "in love with his creation" thing for Davies. But my bones are wrong, occasionally. I do think that, whatever the answer to the first question is, he almost certainly thought Brandon would come across as romantically masculine, impulsively passionate, and possessed of an "admirable" certainly in his own righteousness. Oh, ICK! I'm just glad Davies stopped short of having Brandon assault Marianne - though some would undoubtedly have thought him sooooo dreamy, swept away with passion.
But I will, little doubt, watch the mini-series again - it does have many excellent aspects - I do enjoy the excellent acting, even where I deplore the character-take, and many of the aspects are quite sufficiently in keeping with the novel, even if I think overall the adaptation lacks, well, salt and tang, a bit, for true fidelity to Austen's spirit.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Thank you so much for your reply to my questions. I appreciate your insight! I agree that it could be a case of Davies falling in love with is personal creation of Brandon and getting carried away. I've been thinking that it's also possible that he intended to put a more modern flavor to the adaptation. It's only speculation, of course, but it's fun to try to suss it out!
I've been thinking that it's also possible that he intended to put a more modern flavor to the adaptation.
That could certainly be true. Actually, does anyone ever have only one motivating factor in their endeavors? I usually have a dozen, minimum.
I'd give Davies at least the following, in no particular order:
Falling in love with his creation of Brandon (following his very legitimate understanding that the men need to be fleshed out)
Choosing to "butch up" the men rather than being content with fleshing them out a bit.
Overconfidence in his own genius, and insufficient respect for Austen's.
Desire to break the constraints of, and possibly undermine, the propriety of the period (his comments in general about Austen show a real Celt subversive streak, he's Welsh, of course, and I know a bit about the Welsh).
An artist's desire to best another - related, but not exactly the same as #3 above. That's natural, actually, but indulging it this far is second-rate.
Simple salaciousness - Davies really loves to sex up a period piece. Others (producers, directors, actors) have betimes, on the evidence, constrained him enough on other adaptations, for propriety, but here he really ran rampant (pun intended).
For starters . . .
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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I think there are some big problems with the male characters in the book, the one who get the girls in the end. And I think these problems are there in the book. I think it's her least successful book, in a way. But it's easy to...well maybe not easy to fix... I think she should have done another draft. And what she should have done is make Edward more interesting. And the other thing she didn't do is convince me, at any rate, that Marianne, the very romantic one, could make the change from being passionately in love with Willoughby to being happily in love with Col Brandon. She never quite did that work in which we see Col Brandon winning her heart towards the end of the book. So there was work to be done on the men. In effect, what I felt I had to do was butch the men up a little bit.
I wrote for Edward quite a number of scenes where he's riding horses and being manly and being physical. And I actually wrote him a log splitting scene in which he takes his jacket off and really...it's like a scene out of a Western with a great big axe...to relieve his feelings. He [Edward] can never say what he feels because he's trapped in this engagement. So anyways, there he is splitting logs and Eleanor comes and finds him (and they look at each other as if to say) "Why are you doing that, there are servants to do that." "I like to do that it relieves my feelings." So that helped a lot, I think.
And with Col Brandon, I wrote a falconry scene in which he's got this great hawk coming down and clamping on his wrist and he strokes its feathers gently, so it shows power and gentleness at the same time. Just as Marianne is coming across the field to see him. And we're supposed to imagine he'll stroke her feathers tenderly like that, as well.
So I hope these things work...
This explains why someone who wanted a version of the book that Austen wrote might find something different in this mini.
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Well he's right in that the men in the book are a poor lot. Edward is cowardly and completely lacking in honour, Brandon constantly does the wrong thing. It's a tribute to Jane Austen's writing that the book succeeds despite the male characters. It just shows her genius and his (at least in this adaptation) lack.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Edward is a coward who can't face his mother. Morrisey is a caricature of a Regency action man. It's not the fault of the actors, they do what they can with the script.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Edward is shy, diffident, and has been enduring for years his mother's own particular brand of emotional abuse, but he is not a coward.
Boo hoo, poor Edward. Of course anyone who buckles under to someone who's only power over him verbal and whom he probably saw once a day as a child before being sent to school is bravery itself. I don't think. You can't make Edward into something he isn't. Either he has courage to tell his mother to but out or he is the poor frightened man of 24 who has been out of her home for years and is still under her thumb. Which is it? But the man of courage would have told her to stuff it long ago.
What is a "Regency action man"? One thing that I think is easy to forget, mainly because Austen doesn't make very much of it, is the fact that Brandon is a former military man. Even if he has occasional aches and pains (hardly surprising for an active 35-year-old man), he should have some degree of strength and athleticism. In the novel (as well as in S&S 2008), he can hunt, ride horses, and dance. He is not a weakling.
Regency Action Man is Morrisey riding vente a terre through a thunderstorm (no sign of any aches and pains then), Regency Action Man is Morrisey swinging that sword around like a buccaneer on a cold morning in Hyde Park, (have you ever been in Hyde Park on a winter morning, it's cold) We know it's winter because the London Season was during the winter. Regency Action Man is Morrisey springing up those stairs like he was on a morning stroll. (No aches and pains then either.) I hope that helped you.
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That doesn't work Sassafras. She has just heard from the girl's sister that her son has been engaged for years and never told her. She isn't a nice woman but anybody hearing that would be entitled to blow their top. You seem to be blaming everybody but Edward for Edward's failings. We know that once his mother got over her anger she settled money on him anyway. All he had to do was gird his lions and tell her when she wasn't in front of anybody she felt she couldn't lose face in front of. He got caught out and had no choice but to stick by Lucy if he wasn't going to be known as a coward. He never told anyone he didn't have to, that is not the actions of anyone with courage. You bite the bullet and do the right thing.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
While I cannot agree that Edward is truly a coward, I would agree with you to the extent that he is not particularly courageous. Austen says he is diffident, and so he is.
But there are quite a few mitigating factors to Edward's diffidence. First, you note that Mrs. Farrars only disinherits Edward in the heat of the moment. But, in the novel, Austen has Fanny (in narration, not dialogue) warning Mrs. Dashwood "of the danger attending any young woman who attempted to draw (Edward) in." And with what could Mrs. Farrars possibly threaten an object of Edward affection - except penury? So this is not a momentary outburst, but a carried-out, long-standing threat.
In addition, there is Edward's temperament, which is a retiring, rather than an assertive one. Very appropriate for a country parson, which is the life he wants, and attains, but not for a crusader of any sort.
Lastly, and I think this is something Austen would have taken for granted, but perhaps we do not - there is his duty to his mother. Edward is not heroic, but he is honorable and dutiful, and he is the man of his family - his mother is the first object of his duty. He has, ironically through attending to that very duty (kept idle with a tutor rather than being sent to university), gotten himself into the pickle of conflicting, mutually exclusive duties - to his mother and to Lucy.
Heck, I'd be depressed, too.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I think diffidence is not an excuse because someone who is diffident is not always a coward. But there can be different types of cowardice. I think that in a battle for instance Edward would have been brave enough, I think he was scared of his mother's and society's bad opinion. The money aspect of it doesn't really strike me as being that important because even in Edward's worst actions I don't see a great fear of being poor. I think Edward probably felt that he would be able to get by with what he already had and his payment as a parson. He would get a 'living' somewhere. Where I think he fell short was in standing up to his mother's emotional blackmail, not because of the money but because he just didn't have the will to do it.
In addition, there is Edward's temperament, which is a retiring, rather than an assertive one. Very appropriate for a country parson, which is the life he wants, and attains, but not for a crusader of any sort.
If you think a country parson would last long without standing up the the more unseemly side of life, then you don't know what goes on in English villages. Haven't you ever seen Miss Marple? Jane Austen knows about the unseemly side of life, that comes through in her writings. Where do you think she learned all that except through her father's work as a country parson.
Lastly, and I think this is something Austen would have taken for granted, but perhaps we do not - there is his duty to his mother. Edward is not heroic, but he is honorable and dutiful, and he is the man of his family - his mother is the first object of his duty. He has, ironically through attending to that very duty (kept idle with a tutor rather than being sent to university), gotten himself into the pickle of conflicting, mutually exclusive duties - to his mother and to Lucy.
Heck, I'd be depressed, too.
I can appreciate that, in a very small way. I admit it, I'm not Edward's fan in the slightest. I think his trouble he brought on himself and that his 'duty' cost Elinor dear and could have cost Lucy dear. I rather admire Lucy because she didn't let much stand in her way.
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I'd say you made a good point in another post regarding the men in S&S being less well-drawn than in Austen's later novels likely due to her relative experience with the sex. And Edward is a bit of a poor fish, on the page, I'm afraid. I'd also say both Hugh Grant and Dan Stevens (with the able help of Emma Thompson and Andrew Davies) improved the impression the novel's Edward makes, and fairly considerably.
The money aspect of it doesn't really strike me as being that important because even in Edward's worst actions I don't see a great fear of being poor. I think Edward probably felt that he would be able to get by with what he already had and his payment as a parson.
Except Edward literally had nothing of his own - he was wholly dependent on his mother for money, she'd inherited her husband's estate absolutely, and had settled not a cent on either son. And parson's livings were not always readily obtained, and often had to be purchased. Further, Edward's duty to Lucy would mean he had to regard the financial security of her future, and if that was going to be dependent upon his own, he's in a bind. (I think Sassafrass mentioned this, too, and it is valid, IMO.) Of his own foolish making, but it's still a bind, and a serious one.
If you think a country parson would last long without standing up the the more unseemly side of life, then you don't know what goes on in English villages.
You're right, but I do think that, when Edward's duty to his parishioners required him to correct them, he would have been able to rise to the occasion.
I rather admire Lucy because she didn't let much stand in her way.
I can't go with you to that point. It is impossible for me to admire anyone so gratuitously cruel and so willing to serve her own interests at whatever cost to anyone else. She deliberately torments Elinor, which is as unnecessary as it is nasty. She holds a man she knows no longer cares for her (and who has never been more to her than a meal ticket) to an engagement out of pure opportunism, unless perhaps there is a pinch of spite mixed in. She, while maintaining the engagement to the unwilling brother, sets out to seduce the younger, once the lion's share of the family money is irrevocably his. I cannot see anything in her to admire; she's a terrible person without a single decent quality.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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I'd also say both Hugh Grant and Dan Stevens (with the able help of Emma Thompson and Andrew Davies) improved the impression the novel's Edward makes, and fairly considerably.
I quite like Hugh Grant, don't much l;ike Dan Stevens, but I don't think either Davies or Thomson im,proved him him that much. Mainly because I think the fault is in Austen's drawing og his character. I guess I will always feel dislike for Edward's actions.
Except Edward literally had nothing of his own - he was wholly dependent on his mother for money, she'd inherited her husband's estate absolutely, and had settled not a cent on either son. And parson's livings were not always readily obtained, and often had to be purchased. Further, Edward's duty to Lucy would mean he had to regard the financial security of her future, and if that was going to be dependent upon his own, he's in a bind. (I think Sassafrass mentioned this, too, and it is valid, IMO.) Of his own foolish making, but it's still a bind, and a serious one.
There were things that Edward had that were not dependent on his mother. He had a position in society and if you think that Mrs Ferrers would not have felt pressure from society in her turn, that's being a little naive. Edward would have had contacts, in fact we see that clearly. Brandon didn't know him, Brandon offered the post because he knew the Dashwoods. Like I said, I never got the impression that Edward with all his fault worried about money, I think he figured his mother would eventually feel obliged to give him some money and that sooner or later he would get a position. As that's exactly what did happen I feel justified in feeling like that.
You're right, but I do think that, when Edward's duty to his parishioners required him to correct them, he would have been able to rise to the occasion.
Of course he would, he then would have been in a position of power over them.
I can't go with you to that point. It is impossible for me to admire anyone so gratuitously cruel and so willing to serve her own interests at whatever cost to anyone else. She deliberately torments Elinor, which is as unnecessary as it is nasty. She holds a man she knows no longer cares for her (and who has never been more to her than a meal ticket) to an engagement out of pure opportunism, unless perhaps there is a pinch of spite mixed in. She, while maintaining the engagement to the unwilling brother, sets out to seduce the younger, once the lion's share of the family money is irrevocably his. I cannot see anything in her to admire; she's a terrible person without a single decent quality.
Oh Lucy is totally ruthless when it comes to herself. Nothing is going to stand in the way of what Lucy wants. I don't admire her morals that much, I do kind of admire that determination to get it. I think Elinor could have done with a little bit of that. A bit of ruthlessness in dealing with John and Fanny might have gotten another ÂŁ200 a year out of them. Nobody was going to get the better of Lucy and that determination not to be the loser is what I rather admire. Can you truthfully see Lucy being turfed out of her home penniless? By hook or by crook she would have left with something.
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I think he figured his mother would eventually feel obliged to give him some money and that sooner or later he would get a position. As that's exactly what did happen I feel justified in feeling like that.
The novel specifically states that Mrs. Farrars reconciles with Edward, to the extent that she actually does so, following Robert's betrayal of her wishes in marrying Lucy (after Mrs. Farrars' settling 30 thousand pounds on him). Absent that rather extraordinary occurrence, we cannot know with any security that Mrs. Farrars would have settled anything at all on Edward. And Edward is of a far from sanguine nature, so how can we be confident in his confidence with regard to his future?
You're right about Lucy - she'd take something with her, even if it's the silver and someone's jewelry. I hardly admire a thieving nature.
Elinor is both too "nice," in the Austenian sense, and too proud (as well as too decent a human), to stoop to anything within miles of Lucy's mindset.
Mrs. Dashwood, however, not being a young girl herself, and having three daughters to consider, might be called out for not confronting John about his promise to his father.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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The novel specifically states that Mrs. Farrars reconciles with Edward, to the extent that she actually does so, following Robert's betrayal of her wishes in marrying Lucy (after Mrs. Farrars' settling 30 thousand pounds on him). Absent that rather extraordinary occurrence, we cannot know with any security that Mrs. Farrars would have settled anything at all on Edward. And Edward is of a far from sanguine nature, so how can we be confident in his confidence with regard to his future?
Whatever the circumstances she did come around.
You're right about Lucy - she'd take something with her, even if it's the silver and someone's jewelry. I hardly admire a thieving nature.
As Lucy steals absolutely nothing in the entire novel or any adaptation of the novel I don't see where the 'thieving nature' comes from. Lucy didn't need to steal anything. A few discreet hints about how she would make sure that everybody would know exactly how generous her 'dear brother and sister' were to her and John and Fanny would have gladly paid her to leave.
Elinor is both too "nice," in the Austenian sense, and too proud (as well as too decent a human), to stoop to anything within miles of Lucy's mindset.
Yes she is. Nothing quite like being proud when you are hungry and cold. I don't think being abused and the Dashwoods were abused by John and Fanny; being abused and putting up with it is not being nice. It's just being foolish.
Mrs. Dashwood, however, not being a young girl herself, and having three daughters to consider, might be called out for not confronting John about his promise to his father.
Mrs Dashwood was 'too proud' to do that. Her girls paid the price.
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Whatever the circumstances (Mrs. Farrars) did come around.
She did - to the extent that she gave Edward as his portion the same amount that Fanny got as dowry; much less than Robert. I.e., a nice addition to an income, but not a comfortable income of itself. And, surely, circumstance, and temperament, are part of how things come about, no?
I clearly rather jumped to conclusions upon reading
By hook or by crook (Lucy) would have left with something.
However, since you propose extortion (a form of theft) on Lucy's part as alternative to simple pilfering, I cannot say I see much difference in our takes on Lucy's moral standing.
In reference to Elinor,
being abused and putting up with it is not being nice. It's just being foolish.
I was specifically using the word "nice" in an Austenian sense - see Merriam Webster's third definition of the word:
possessing, marked by, or demanding great or excessive precision and delicacy
Elinor is "nice" in this sense - too "nice" to stoop to less than admirable conduct. Foolish by modern standards, perhaps, but Austen does not think so.
Mrs Dashwood was 'too proud' to (confront her step-son about his reneging on his promise to his father). Her girls paid the price.
Yes, that was my point in raising the question - as a mother, she might be held to have been "nice" at the expense of her duties as a parent.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Yes she is. Nothing quite like being proud when you are hungry and cold. I don't think being abused and the Dashwoods were abused by John and Fanny; being abused and putting up with it is not being nice. It's just being foolish.
Indeed, I had a similar opinion of Elinor. But of course the fans circled the wagons against such blasphemy. My perspective was that she not only endured far more emotional pain than necessary by not telling her sister and mother about Lucy. She caused emotional pain to them. THEY THOUGHT Edward and she had something going on. They believed she was happy with that thought...but she wasn't. It is a form of deceit, perhaps in one perspective it could be viewed as a well intended deceit...but it also showed a lack of respect and trust in her family. It is not unlike the distrust Brandon show in the Dashwoods when he failed to notify them immediately about Willoughby's bad character. He thought they wouldn't believe him. Thought THEY (sensible Elinor, doting Mrs Dashwood) would not believe him! Who was he to even consider such things? It seems like selfishness to make decisions to avoid possibly not being believed. And the, "I thought her goodness would reclaim him," is almost beyond comprehension!
But back to Elinor. Why should she place Lucy's desires above honesty to her family? Did she not trust her family to keep a secret. Did she not respect their feelings in the matter. She could have told her mother, at least, that for reasons she cannot go into, she (Elinor) would be unable to form an attachment with Edward. She could have said it made her unhappy, but that she also understood and accepted the reality. THAT would have been honest. That would have avoided making them feel even worse for not having known about her dilemma. It was foolish IMHO. AND, perhaps Austen knew it was foolishness of a sort. Not stupid foolishness, but a form of foolishness, as you point out, born of too much pride. Maybe Austen had seen such bravery and unnecessary sacrifice in people. I don't think we are to give Elinor such high ratings in all her decisions. She was kind and well-intended, but not always wise. As I pointed out in another post, her response to Willoughby was given to sensibility...she was taken in even as she realized it.
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Indeed, I had a similar opinion of Elinor. But of course the fans circled the wagons against such blasphemy. My perspective was that she not only endured far more emotional pain than necessary by not telling her sister and mother about Lucy. She caused emotional pain to them.
I've never quite understood this tendency to put a favourite character on a pedestal and act like everything they did was perfect. Elinor is really silly when it comes to Lucy. A girl she never met before in her life asks her to swear to keep a secret and she does it without even blinking! Why didn't she just tell Lucy that she didn't make a habit to swear to keep the secrets of people she didn't know very well? I'll admit that she is very young but you would have thought that her experience with John And Fanny would have taught her that a sweet smile didn't always mean that the person was nice. Fanny had loads of sweet smiles when she was sliding her knives into the Dashwood's backs.
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I have always felt, since I first read the novel, that we're not suppose to see either girl as perfect. At the start of the story Elinor has to much Sense and Marianne to much Sensibility and each girl only found happiness when they had both Sense and Sensibility in them. I think the whole point was Austen saying you can't be all one way or the other.
Freedom of religion means ALL religions not just your own.
Rizdek, you base your opinion on a consequential approach to ethics, but Austen does not subscribe to this approach. Indeed, virtue ethics is one of the most important element in her stories.
It is not Lucy's desires that make Elinor keep the secret. It is Elinor's virtue. And it has no bearing on the matter, whether or not Mrs. Dashwood would keep the secret. Elinor is not the kind of person to tell what has been said to her in confidence, and that's what matters.
The same applies to Col. Brandon. Since he believed Willoughby to be sincere in his regard for Marianne, telling the Dashwoods about Willoughby's previous sins would make the Colonel a self-serving snitch, and that is not the kind of person he ought to be. Later on, the situation changes thus that the same action would give comfort to Marianne and no advantages to himself.
You don't have to agree with the characters actions, of course, but I think it is important to understand why Austen wrote them this way. She was not portraying nonsensical bravery and sacrifice. She was illustrating a moral philosophy.
It is not Lucy's desires that make Elinor keep the secret. It is Elinor's virtue. And it has no bearing on the matter, whether or not Mrs. Dashwood would keep the secret. Elinor is not the kind of person to tell what has been said to her in confidence, and that's what matters.
I only want to answer this one point in your post. I agree with you assessment of Brandon but on the highlighted point above I do want to comment. I agree with you Elinor keeps Lucy's secret because she, Elinor has a great deal of personal honour. Where I think Elinor was foolish was in blindly agreeing to keep Lucy's secret in the first place. Elinor had had bitter experience with duplicitous people...namely her brother and sister -in-law. Burt she blindly agrees to keep the secret of a young woman she has just met without any idea of what the secret is. She would have been much better off just telling Lucy that she felt uncomfortable hearing a secret from such a new acquaintance. I have always thought she was very silly in doing that. But Elinor is a nice young girl.
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Yes, you are right. That was a big mistake on her part. But I don't think she did it just because she was being nice. I think it was curiosity that got her.
Nope, I think Elinor would have viewed curiosity as being vulgar. I think she was caught off guard and was too well-mannered to say..."I'd rather not be put in that situation. I really don't want to be the guardian of your secrets, I don't know you." She was polite and before she knew it Lucy had trapped her. But it's something that we can only take a gueas at. As you can tell, I'm not that impressed by Elinor's wisdom here.
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I second that. That's why I like Austen's Mr Knightley. He says it the right way when he says "There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chuses, and that is, his duty; not by manoeuvring and finessing, but by vigour and resolution." Somewhere between Edward and Brandon she found her bearings and wrote Mr Knightley. She redeems herself with her book Emma.
I always thought Edward was a bit too shallow for Elinor. But maybe she wanted a shallow guy. I thought Hugh Grant played him well AND in a very entertaining way.
Hugh Grant does do the stumbling, inarticulate guy very well. It always comes as such a surprise when you see him in an interview and he is both articulate and intelligent. He is a better actor than he is given credit for.
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Perhaps another part that was grating was the apology scene. NOT having known the book well, I, for a time, did not mind the apology scene. It flowed well with the Elinor's character as Davies wrote her. But as it turns out that he didn't write Austen's Elinor nor Austen's apology scene.
In the book, Elinor is truly affected by the apology scene. Look how it ends up. She forgives him, pities him, expresses concern for his happiness and even gives him gentle words of advice how to gain it, and shakes his hand. She was involved and listening to him. Shortly after that she's even contemplating the benefits if Mrs Willoughby would die! Despite the candid things Willoughby confides during the apology which might've put off someone else, Elinor was not put off. She scolds him at times, but hears and understands him. She even has a pleasant moment of thought when she recognizes why he is the way he is...the world made him that way by thrusting him adrift with too much money and too little guidance (or something like that). Regardless, in the end, she understands. THAT is why she pities him and forgives him. That is what Austen implied she told Marianne two weeks later that made Marianne weep, clutch and pant with emotion. That is why Mrs Dashwood felt sorry for him, felt him vindicated and wished him well. Elinor felt Willoughby had truly repented. He was selfish to be sure, but Elinor now understood why he was selfish.
But in the 08 miniseries, despite the opportunity and time to "do it right," Davies does it wrong. The apology scene he wrote bore no similarity at all to the one Austen wrote. His tells us nothing we didn't already know and discloses NOTHING significant about Elinor's personality. The apology scene was supposed to help us not only understand why Willoughby was the way he was, but also inform us further of who Elinor was. As I read the apology scene, I believe Willoughby was to act desperate, emotionally distraught, passionate and actually concerned. He was candid, not careful, in what he divulged. He was opening up as if to an older sister or some one he respected. It was critical. Now, of course this also means SnS95 failed in this regard because it didn't even try to include it. That IS a defect in the 95 version, IMHO. But, I'd rather it be left out than to include the travesty Davies inserted.
The earlier version did a credible job of the apology scene. In it Willoughby truly looks distraught and disheveled. He was an emotional wreck, Elinor listened. She even admitted later to Marianne that she did forgive him. So I got from that adaptation most of the essence of the book version. But nothing of that showed through in what Davies wrote and how the actors were directed to act.
I think Austen was prompted in the writing of the apology scene of the Christian virtue of 'Forgiveness'. Perhaps this is the Catholic in me speaking. When we confess our sins we are not supposed to be denying them or putting the blame on other people. Willoughby confesses to Elinor and she forgives him for those sins. She can do no more. A priest can do no more, God can do no more. All that is possible is forgiveness and the hope the the sinner has learnt a lesson. Willoughby does seem t have learnt a bitter lesson and as the closing words of the book states he lives with that lesson the rest of his life.
The lesson is not always a burden on him, but while he has some contentment in his life he doesn't have what Marianne finally achieves with Brandon. A true and steady love. I think this is Austen saying love in your life is the most important thing. It doesn't have to be hart throbbing passion, but the love that makes someone stay by your bedside when you have a streaming cold and don't feel like making love.
Forgiveness doesn't mean that the sins were never committed, forgiveness means that they are simply forgiven.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Marianne's decision in the 1995 film is precisely the same as it is in the novel. She marries a man whom she has come to value greatly, esteems highly, and for whom she feels deep affection.
FWIW, the novel never says Marianne falls in love with Colonel Brandon. "In love" is a very small part of the varieties of intimate marital happiness. The novel says Marianne's happiness is formed in forming Brandon's, and her whole heart becomes devoted to him. Devotion and passion can certainly co-exist, but the former does not predicate the latter.
In the 1995 film, Marianne is glowing with a quiet satisfaction on her wedding day; Brandon is radiant with joy. Yes, he is happier than she, a little, and this is entirely in keeping with Austen, while showing Marianne falling in love with Brandon upon short order is entirely at odds with what the novel's author wrote.
I think one can reasonably argue that Austen never says love is the most important thing, nor implies it. Right conduct is the most important thing - this is everywhere stressed in her work, and in few places more than S&S. It is, I think, why Elinor is rewarded with the fulfillment of her first love, while Marianne is not.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
It's really just a question of semantics, then. Personally, I see no reason to assume that having one's whole heart devoted to another person is anything less than real, deep love.
It isn't semantics, and I am certainly not saying Marianne does not come to feel a real, deep, profound love for Colonel Brandon. No doubt more so than she had truly understood herself, or anyone, capable of.
But she isn't going to have hysterics when he goes away for a day or two on business, and she isn't going to think love requires such a display, as she used to.
It isn't semantics, it's real-time experience of "in love," and becoming truly "devoted with one's whole heart" to a spouse. Even when the subject of the feelings is the same individual, the two experiences of love are not. Are you married? Have you been, for any length of years?
So you don't view Brandon's and Marianne's marriage in the novel as a marriage of equals? I don't like the idea of Marianne being less happy than Brandon in their marriage.
Oh, absolutely equals - he gives her his devotion, she gives herself for devotion, she does that which makes everyone happy, including, upon reflection, herself. But she can't keep it that way, that isn't Marianne, and I think we see the future in the wedding scene in the 1995 film.
Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, believed he deserved to be; - in Marianne he was consoled for every past affliction; - her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend.
So, she found happiness through unselfish working for the happiness of another. Her reward is the wholly devoted love she comes to feel for her husband, and the love he has long had for her.
Elinor was unselfishly equal to acknowledging that Edward must honor Lucy's prior claim. Her reward is Edward, as his, good man, is Elinor.
Of course Marianne is not being punished, she gets a very happy life, and a beloved and deeply loving husband. But she doesn't get what she always assumed she would - her reward comes after her acknowledging her own errors of outlook and judgement.
Willoughby is not a mistake, Marianne is in love with him, she is less profoundly so, I think, than she thinks she is, but she is without question truly in love. Elinor is deceived by his plausibility, too. Everyone is mistaken as to his character, but so is he, according to Austen, whose Colonel Brandon would never have challenged a man as to his intentions when it was not his business to do so, and particularly not in another's house, where any such interference is doubly wrong.
Marianne is wrong in her focus, selfish (though very good-hearted), and in some areas much more illiberal of mind than she is later comfortable realizing. These inform, and spur, the extremity of her passion for Willoughby, but her errors are fundamental, not circumstantial.
Elinor gets the reward she never assumed she was entitled to - a happy marriage with her first and only love. Which is what Marianne did think she was entitled to, and does not get.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Really? What details do you see in S&S 1995 to convince you of that
I have explained in detail, a number of times. Go back and read, if you need refreshment on the point.
To put it simply, you are saying that Elinor's reward comes sooner, because she has already amply proved herself worthy and unselfish, while Marianne's comes later, after she has worked to become an unselfish and wise person?
Not at all. I am saying what I said. In words on one syllable, Marianne does not get what she thought she would. She gets love, but not the sort she thought. No less deep, not the same.
Elinor gets what Marianne thought she would get, her first deep love.
One syllable words are difficult, the difference is in kind, not in timeline.
Marianne expected as her reward a passionately romantic marriage to the personification of Adonis. She does not get that; she gets the deep and profound love of a very good man, whom she comes to love as greatly as she esteems and likes him the words she excoriated Elinor for using about Edward.
Her assumptions have led her astray, and she has been wounded, deeply, by the result. As Brandon has been wounded. Marianne, with her family's help, and Brandon's devoted, but less active support, heals herself, and then she heals Colonel Brandon. That is what Austen wrote. The 1995 film is not perfectly in keeping with this, but it is far more faithful than the 2008 mini-series.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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The 1995 film is not PERFECTLY in keeping with Austen's arc for Brandon and Marianne, because time and other factors require them to speed up the commencement of Brandon's healing and Marianne's development of deeper feelings for him.
That's the sum total of it.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
Not necessarily, and I don't think that the very slight condensation of the Marianne-Brandon end-arc is a problem in the least. I merely note it isn't PERFECTLY faithful. No filmed adaptation can be. And, IMO, having recently re-watched both the 1995 and the 2008, I am re-confirmed in my belief that the 1995 takes fewer liberties with the characters' fundamental natures and, more importantly, evinces a far more Austenian narrative and social viewpoint.
The 2008 makes it fundamentally a romance; that isn't what Austen wrote.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
I never said the film was slavishly faithful to the novel. That would be impossible. It is an adaptation and it is faithful to the spirit of the novel however.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I'd asked locus this exact same thing earlier, and I'm also wondering what your opinion is...
Do you think that Davies took a gamble that it wouldn't bother the modern audience, when he put in the social improprieties that Brandon commits? Did Davies think that we (the audience) would be so entranced by the romantic, beefed-up, Brandon that we wouldn't be concerned that he didn't always behave as he should?
I know it doesn't bother some at all, but it stands out like a sore thumb to others at the same time.
It didn't bother me to the point I couldn't enjoy the mini-series, but I admit to a raised eyebrow or two at "the smolder during Marianne's piano playing", "ill-timed visit on the Dashwoods", "questioning Willoughby's intentions", and "beginning to unlace Marianne's bodice". I didn't even notice the "hand-holding on the bed" the first time - but now that's another one as well.
I wonder if Davies thought those improprieties would come across as romantic masculine sureness - rather than bad manners, and poor impulse control?
I looked over some of my earlier posts on the subject Webrowser, I truly don't know what Davies was thinking of. I do think he thought that his Brandon would be so much better than Austen's and probably that his 'additions' would go unnoticed by the general public. And to a certain extent he was right. It's only when we get together and someone posts "Well this bothered me a bit" and the next one says "I know what you mean, and this bothered ME." that we all start to really pay attention. Davies is a good screenwriter and his screenplays carry you away sometimes. You get caught up in what is happening that on a first viewing you may not notice the anomalies. The very first thing I noticed, even on my first viewing was how loud the footsteps were and that chemistry between Wakefield and Morrisey that Sassy keeps going on about. Sassy rather misunderstood me when I first commented on it. She thought I liked it when I was puzzled by it because it doesn't belong in the story.
So I came to the board and started to read what other people were posting and noticing. I really didn't expect such an active board, and I certainly didn't expect anything like Sassy's vitriol against the film.
The 'anomalies' didn't bother me that much on my first viewing, on the second I started frowning and on the third one, well I had had enough of Morrisey's Brandon that I could have happily taken a set of cutting scissors to his scenes. I don't think that Davies did expect such scrutiny to tell the truth. He probably expected a casual viewer's response and then for it to be forgotten. It's a three hour stint and the professional reviewers would not have time to give it more than a cursory glance, with a check list. Costumes...check, sets...check, characters...check. Great production. It is only us, the fans of historical adaptations and literary adaptations that scrutinize each and every second of a production and then start saying..."But it's cr*p!"
What really drives me up the wall is that he got a lot right, he simply decided his five main characters, the ones that form the heart of the story were correct and Austen was wrong. The egtism of that blows my mind and his Brandon is simply the Blow Up Regency Action Man Doll version of Willoughby. I think Locus hit the nail on the head there. She so often does. Because Davies got Brandon so wrong, his Marianne is wrong, because Marianne is wrong it makes Elinor wrong, and because Elinor is wrong...well it's like a row of dominoes. Sooner or later they all fall. The worst thing is Davies dominoes form chaos when they fall and not a coherent picture.
Wow, that's a book of a post.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Thank you so much on your input to my questions. I've gleaned much from your observations on many different points of the film and mini-series.
You're right upon Davies' changes to Brandon not being something that blared out on a first viewing. I noticed a few things, but they didn't overly stand out they did upon my 2nd and 3rd viewing. And you and locus are quite right, there is a domino effect when changes are made to one character, like Brandon, for instance. Because those changes will affect every interaction that Brandon has with the rest of the cast.
I started a thread discussing the contrasts in Austen's S&S and S&S 95 vs. the softening of contrasts (IMO) in S&S 2008. If you feel inclined, please take a look, and share your thoughts. I welcome youf input!
I will Webrowser. Today was rather awkward for me, I had my grandsons as my daughter had to go the the hospital for tests. Thank God for the NHS, always there when you need it.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
It shows the start of a strong friendship. That's good enough for me at that point. The novel isn't a romantic dream, it's the story of how two young girls mature into women. The films does that very well. I prefer the realistic to fairyland.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Even that is inaccurate, though, because Austen specifically states that Marianne felt "strong esteem and lively friendship" for Brandon. In the novel, she was ALREADY good friends with Brandon (and their friendship was "lively"), not merely "starting" to be friends. Do you see the distinction here?
Again, you recite the words without a clue as to their meaning. Sassy you are starting to sound hysterical. Take the chill pill.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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Ok, I'm not sure what your post had to do with my comment. I wasn't puzzled what Austen intended, I was puzzled what Davies intended when he rewrote it. If we are to believe Elinor has this Christian charity and forgiveness, then Davies must've missed it. Not only doesn't she say she forgave him...she looks daggers at him at the end of the apology.
Then I apologise for an unneeded lecture. What Davies intended is a puzzlement for all IMO. I don't know what he intended. I think he just went too far. He did a good job on the secondary characters, but the four main ones. Elinor is not too bad, she really is very good. Edward, well it's best for me not to mention Edward, I don't like him very much and think Elinor deserved so much better. Marianne is a spoilt little girl that he never let grow up and Brandon is Regency Action Man with a serious alpha male problem. Willoughby is simply a spoilt whining brat. I think Davies probably did start out with the intentions of fleshing out Edward and Brandon, they are very thin in the novel. He just, failed is I think the best way to put it. Thankfully Edward isn't around enough to really get irritating, but Brandon. Brandon is everywhere and he is The Big Boss at all times. I like David Morrisey and this production almost put me off him. The character is just such a pain in the neck.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
I think I was a little bit more radical adapting that. I invented rather more scenes, because I thought the book could do with a bit more help.
And:
When you read the book, you’re not quite sure whether it’s got the right ending. You’re not quite sure if the characters of the men who get the girls, whether they quite deserve to. ... So I did a lot of work to basically try to butch up the two male characters, make them more attractive and more appealing.
Fairly conclusive, I think, that Davies did indeed utterly re-write Colonel Brandon. His elucidation (I only found a bit, but I've listened to the entire interview, a few weeks past) really only mentions the wood-chopping for Edward (I suspect he put in Elinor beating carpets for the servants to match), but he talks much more about changing Colonel Brandon. And indeed, the changes to Brandon from Austen's original are both drastic and profound; the changes to Edward far less so.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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Yes, I read that interview. He didn't do a very good job on his improvements is all. He obviously had his reasons, they are unimportant at the end of the day. I had a reason why I bought that unfortunate red coat, the one I never wear because I look terrible in it. Even if it is cashmere.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
Maybe because some of the most beautiful successful ensembles are red, too? They are for me, so red is always tempting . . . but not always the success I hope . . . and the, red is very vivid, if it's wrong, it is very wrong. Black, neutrals, one can fudge a bit. Red, not so much.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
You are explaining scenes to me again. You were not the director, you were not the screenwriter. Their work should be able to stand on it's own two feet without someone who had nothing to do with the production of the series trying, and failing to explain all the holes in the production.
As you have no idea of what ladies in 19th Century England did during their leisure time. I find it staggeringly beyond belief that you are telling me what they did and didn't do. Yes ladies went on picnics and gathered leaves/reeds/flowers/insects and fossils. They gathered seashells like Margaret is actually pictured doing in this series. They did all kinds of handicrafts and some gardened. The Royal Horticultural Society was established in 1804 and had lady members. Ladies read, played cards and musical instruments. They hunted and some were what was referred to as 'bruising riders'. They had a lot of time on their hands and they passed it doing things like that. I know all this because I visit the stately homes and I've seen the evidence. It's all still there, so do not tell me what ladies did to pass the time in the 19th Century. What they didn't do was beat carpets, and carpets were not slung across tree branches to be beaten in the first place.
And again you are explaining something that is not shown in anyway in the series as if you had actually seen and heard the explanation for Anne Steele's accent. You didn't see anything or hear anything in that series about that character's accent. You have your imagination and that's it. I don't find your imagination to be great exposition in the actual series.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
That's interesting. I was under the impression that the purpose of all of these recent posts from you, locusnola, and webrowser was to attempt to explain all the holes and unexplained events in S&S 1995.
No Sassy, it's what's called a 'discussion'. That's what people who discuss something do, we talk about what struck us as important, what was well done compered to what was poorly done and we agree to disgree about what we see differently. You really have to learn how to discuss.
And why do you think they employed gardeners? It makes about as much sense for Thompson's Elinor to be digging in the garden with her bare hands as it does for Morahan's Elinor to be beating carpets - a bit less sense, actually, because at least Morahan's Elinor is shown beating the carpet to release her anger and frustration, NOT because this is a normal activity for her. The context is important, but you don't seem to care about that, for some reason.
They employed gardeners to do the hard graft, that doesn't mean that they didn't get out in the garden and consult, instruct and plan. It doesn't mean that they didn't go out in the garden and cut the flowers they wanted themselves. The gardens in a big house can stretch for miles. There are many different types of gardens and a big house would have hothouses and kitchen gardens as well. I've already explained to you about the lack of a local Cosco, the vegetable and animals would be reared at the Home Farm and the gardeners would tend to the large gardens and cut the grass. How do you think lawns got mowed before lawn mowers were invented? Yes Ladies gardened, I garden myself.
Yes, that is true.
Of course it's true.
That is correct - it is my own interpretation. Again, you, summeriris, and webrowser have been posting your own interpretations of things from S&S 1995, so why should I not do the same for S&S 2008?
You can do whatever you like Sassy, I just wish that you didn't dictate. And you do do that. And I am picking up your habit of doing it, I have to stop. So to anyone who is reading this on this board. All my posts are just my opinions, nothing more, nothing less. I think that Andrew Davies did a poor job on the screenplay and the director did a poor job on directing, and the cinematographer and sound were really bad. But the actors did the best they could with poor materiel.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.
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No Sassy, it's what's called a 'discussion'. That's what people who discuss something do, we talk about what struck us as important, what was well done compered to what was poorly done and we agree to disagree about what we see differently.
Oh, right. So, she secretly trained a flock of sandflies.
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I was under the impression that the purpose of all of these recent posts from you, locusnola, and webrowser was to attempt to explain all the holes and unexplained events in S&S 1995.
I can only say my jaw dropped, at the absolute error, and insult, of this "impression".
I'm not going to respond personally. Thankfully, you've already addressed her on it.
No Sassy, it's what's called a 'discussion'. That's what people who discuss something do, we talk about what struck us as important, what was well done compered to what was poorly done and we agree to disgree about what we see differently. You really have to learn how to discuss.
What he says is not that important at the end of the day. What counts is the work. And when your work fails as this adaptation does, well it says it all.
_____________ I am the Queen of Snark, TStopped said so.