So, last post I mused about why there was a thirty-year gap between the 1940s Pride & Prejudice and any other Jane Austen adaptations. Turns out, there isn’t. Because there were three other Pride and Prejudices (Prides and Prejudices?) in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. These were, not in chronological order:
Season 1, Episode of Episode 17 of The Philco Television Playhouse. This sounds like a parody of a 1940s anthology show, probably because it was, in fact, a 1940s anthology show. This released in 1949 and I can find out nothing about it beyond the fact of its existence.
The 1967 BBC adaptation. You can get two episodes of this on YouTube and I’ll come back to that in a minute.
And, finally, the 1952 mini-series with … wait for it. Peter Cushing as Darcy. This is apparently lost to time and I am devastated, I am fucking devastated. Because that means that Grand Moff Darcy is not something I’m ever going to get to see beyond this one publicity still:
Anyway, I did my very best to source the 1967 but the rumour is that it was filmed back in the day when Equity (the British actors’ union) refused to allow recorded performances to be broadcast more than once. And, like, I can see the logic of this in a sense. If you’re just transitioning away from theatre towards filmed media then you must be acutely aware that, whereas if you’re in a play you get paid every time, if you’re on TV they pay you once and then carry on exploiting your labour for the rest of time.
Slight digression: one of the greatest rhetorical coups of history is the negative connotation we now attach to the word “luddite”. The luddites were, ultimately, completely right that automation was very very bad for the people whose jobs it replaced and they were also completely right that there were no systems in place to stop the cost of that economic change falling completely on the most vulnerable people in society. And it’s always interesting to me to look at things like Equity refusing to let recorded performances be repeated, which seem silly in retrospect, but which are actually really fucking important. Because even if they don’t work, it is kind of vital not to just let capital reap all the benefits of technological progress at the expense of everybody. Otherwise you wind up with, well, kind of what we’ve got today.
Where we were? Oh yes. The 1967 Pride and Prejudice (2 episodes of). This is a funny one. First observation: every adaptation of Pride and Prejudice includes the line “Netherfield Park is let at last” in the first six minutes. And I suppose it’s because it’s from the book and is way easier to work naturally into dialogue than “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife” but part of the reason it’s so easy to work into dialogue is that it’s such a banal phrase. And yet it’s become sort of quintessential to adaptations of Pride and Prejudice. Like, I don’t think I’d believe I was watched an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice if we were updated on the current tenancy status of Netherfield Park in any other way.
I’m really sad there’s not more of this series available because it might be one of the most unique Pride and Prejudices (Prides and Prejudices) I think I’ve ever seen—even compared to the 2005 film which yoinks the time period back twenty years because the director hated Empire line dresses, and made the Bennets literally live on a farm. Basically, I’ve seen adaptations that cut bits out or change bits around or make Mr Collins not-a-clergyman or Lady Catherine de Bourgh a goodie or do kind of aesthetic shit with what people are wearing or how they talk … but this one just straight up puts in extra scenes. And, obviously, you sometimes have little extra bits around the edges, like the bow and arrow sequence in the 1940s one, but I’ve never seen an adaptation this willing to just explore shit that you can infer happened off page but which the book doesn’t choose to show us. Like in the first episode we get scenes of Lady Lucas and Charlotte where Lady Lucas is all “you may be a minger but you’re from a good family so you should try to marry Bingley anyway” and Charlotte is all “but I can’t really be arsed and I don’t like this stripey dress” or—even weirder—conversations between Mr Bingley and Caroline Bingley about how annoying it is that Bingley keeps renting places instead of buying somewhere like Pemberley. Weirdest of all, though, is that one of the book-implied scenes they choose to show us directly is Mr Bennet arriving to visit Mr Bingley essentially in the middle of what in the book, and every other adaption, is one scene of Mr Bennet trolling his wife.
Essentially, book/all other adaptations version:
Mrs Bennet: you really need to visit Mr Bingley so we can wed our five daughters
Mr Bennet: trolololol too busy reading and being a dick
Mrs Bennet: I’m sick of this. I never want to talk about Mr Bingley again
Mr Bennet: whoops, I guess I shouldn’t have visited him the PSYCHE
Audience: Oh my god, what a cool troll move. This demonstration that he’s a slightly less shit dad than we thought proves what an awesome guy he is
Mrs Bennet: OH MR BENNET
This version:
Mrs Bennet: you really need to visit Mr Bingley so we can wed our five daughters
Mr Bennet: trolololol too busy reading and being a dick
NEW SCENE:
Caroline Bingley: who could that be?
Mr Bingley: I think it’s Mr Bennet
Caroline Bingley: but he’s a rubbishy poor person, why is he visiting us?
Mr Bingley: stop being mean, I’m sure he’s lovely
NEW SCENE
Mrs Bennet: I’m sick of this. I never want to talk about Mr Bingley again
Mr Bennet: whoops, I guess I shouldn’t have visited him the PSYCHE
Audience: we know. We were just there?
Mrs Bennet: OH MR BENNET
This is the weirdest choice they made in this adaptation. Less weird, but more utterly unforgiveable, is the following: you may recall that in the 1940s adaptation, Mary Bennet looked like this.
In this adaptation, Mary Bennet looks like this:
Because she isn’t in it. They cut Mary Bennet. The bastards. And the thing is, I do see that there’s an extent to which five sisters is too many sisters, but that’s also the entire fucking point. And, y’know, if you’re going to cut one, why not cut Kitty? She’s just Lydia Lite, Caffeine-Free Lydia, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Lydia. I mean, she doesn’t even cough in this version. What’s the point of Kitty if she doesn’t cough? On top of which, despite taking more liberties with the Bennet sisters than Wickham, this is the only adaptation the bothers to have Lydia both claim to be, and indeed be, the tallest of them.
All of which said, I really liked this adaptation. I found the extra scenes genuinely illuminating (apart from the seeing Mr Bennet visiting). They’re all things you could either suspect happened off-page or imagine happening, but including them changes the pacing up. And because all adaptions tend to be a teeny bit samey (fuck if I’m saying this now, how am I going to feel by the time I get to 2005) it kind of offers a unique perspective on the story.
Final thing: I don’t know if was just because this was filmed in the 60s but Darcy and Elizabeth just constantly look like they want to fuck, like, really hard. In the sense of “wanting to do it a lot” but also “wanting to do it quite vigorously”. This is the most get-a-room performance of Darcy and Lizzie I think I’ve ever seen, and I think it’s the most get-a-room performance I ever will see until there’s one where they actually go at it front of the magnificent fireplace at Rosings. And, actually, since all the other episodes are missing for all I know, they do.
I’m not sure I can rate this one because it’s only two episodes but I think I can at least give it a fine living somewhere on my estate.
Anyway, onto the actual thing I’m actually here to talk about, which is the 1971 Persuasion. Won’t lie, genuinely loved this. The fact that they used forms of the verb ‘persuade’ about eight times in the first twenty minutes was, I admit, a contributing factor but, also, it’s just …really good. And I say that as someone who absolutely loves the 1995 movie. Honestly, I might just really like Persuasion full stop.
In terms of production values, this feels notably a step above the other 1971 Jane Austen adaptation. Like they have outdoor shots where the camera moves, the costumes look less like they’re made of nylon (though Anne does have a tartan dress that looks like a pair of pyjamas my Granddad used to own), and the interior shots are genuinely quite lavish. I mean, yes, there’s only three drawing rooms but they’re really lavish drawing rooms. We’re still somewhere in the “haven’t realised it’s not theatre” era of televisions, which means they didn’t think it was in any way strange to have Anne sometimes speak her thoughts aloud to an empty room like she’s doing a very short soliloquy. Given the performances are otherwise a bit more naturalistic than the 1971 Sense and Sensibility this really stands out—and makes Anne seem like she’s maybe got some issues beyond the usual “I let a friend of the family talk me out of marrying the man I loved eight years ago and have regretted it every day since” blues.
Everyone in this is good. The vulgar people are suitably vulgar, the nice people are suitably nice, Captain Benwick looks hilariously emo (which is what you want from Captain Benwick) and, weirdly, Captain Wentworth manages to be surprisingly sexy despite having facial hair that just doesn’t stop in any of the places facial hair is meant to stop. He has sideburns so long you can see both of them even in profile. That is not right. It is very wrong. It’s like an anti-goatee. It’s like two Velcro straps holding his hair in place. It’s like his head is caught in the jaws of a small but vicious furry animal.
I will admit when he first came on screen I was horrified. But he does on grow on you, much—ironically—like a pair of overlong sideburns. He just really captures the Wenworth vibe for me: which is sort of playful with a hint of melancholy and side order of hidden passion. Like, you would genuinely invite that guy to whatever party you were holding because he’d be great value, and not in a mean way.
Anne is similarly excellent, although since it only stopped being the 60s two years ago, her hair does sometimes stray a little bit towards beehive. And, for that matter, there’s a kind of indefinable sixties-ness to her face. And, don’t get me wrong, she’s incredibly beautiful but it does seem like she’s about ten seconds away from slipping into a leather catsuit, grabbing a Walther PPK and running off to shoot bad guys with Diana Rigg.
But, much like Wentworth, I think—for me—she captured a sort … Anne-ness. It’s genuinely really satisfying to see her grow in confidence over the course of the series and she generally gives an impression of having a lot going on under the surface. I mean, except when she’s literally expositing her private thoughts to camera.
There’s also a really nice connection between the two of them. Not a dry humping on the pianoforte connection like Darcy and Elizabeth in the 1967 half-lost BBC series, but an “I can seriously believe that these people were in love eight years ago and are slowly discovering that they’re still in love” kind of way. Which is, I think, not easy to convey. It’s a very particular, and quite subtle, form of chemistry. Plus, there’s something quite … private almost about their relationship, like they know each other well, and they’re good at communicating, but they’re more interested in communicating with each other than with the audience.
Basically, this is an across-the-board good adaption, and it does a solid job of evoking its supporting characters sympathetically. The Musgroves (in the sense of Anne’s sister, and her sister’s husband, not her sister’s husband’s parents), for example, have one of those compromisey Austen marriages in which it’s very easy to make one or both of them look absolutely evil and/or miserable. Since she’s a manipulative hypochondriac and he seems to care about literally nothing but guns it would be easy to pick a villain and say “oh he/she is so neglectful/neurotic that he/she has driven his/her wife/husband to behave in a neurotic/neglectful manner”. But instead it just sort of accepts that they’re both flawed people who get on tolerably well as long as their relationship is permitted to follow its patterns. They’re neither of them the love of the other’s lives but they do, fundamentally, function as a unit. Not a very good unit, granted. Not a unit you’d get from IKEA. More a unit you’d see advertised for about twenty-eight quid on Amazon from a supplier you don’t recognise and think, hey, it’s only twenty-eight quid and I do need a unit for the end of my sofa. And it’d get there and it’d be fine only there’d be too few of those little stickers they give you to go over the screw-holes so you’d need to make sure you always had a book in front of it.
Definitely not the best unit in the world, is what I’m saying. But one that does the job.
Of course, the one character who does come close to getting a villain edit is Mr Elliott. And, honestly, I’ve never been able to work out whether he’s a villain or not, or just a kind of agent of chaos / cosmic punishment inflicted upon the house of Elliott for their vanity and foolishness. Because, the thing is, compared to Wickham or Willoughby he doesn’t actually hurt or endanger anyone, unless we make some very specific inferences about his relationship with his late wife. And, sure, he’s a bit of a social chameleon and kind of insincere but he doesn’t, y’know, seduce and abandon anyone. And the thing is, I can’t tell if this is genuinely him playing a different sort of role in the text—as I say, a big part of me feels like he’s essentially an inevitable consequence of the way that Sir Walter Elliott has lived his life, chasing superficial prestige and failing to value character—and to what extent it’s just that these books were written, like, two hundred years ago, and whereas “sexually abusive guy” is a villainous archetype that remains deeply pertinent “guy who does not respect the inherent honour of the aristocracy or strongly invest in hoarding wealth in large estates for all time” kind of doesn’t.
And, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Mr Elliott is a socialist hero but there’s this sort of dramatic scene where Anne’s friend, Mrs Smith, makes the shocking revelation about Mr Elliot’s low character and it’s all stuff like “he married for money in a way that isn’t the way of marrying for money that we approve of” and “he didn’t think a baronetcy had a greater intrinsic value than the ability to pay his bills.” And, um, yes? Sounds legit. Of course, depending on how you read it, there is an indication that he was genuinely cruel to the rich but vulgar woman he married for her wealth but, by and large, that isn’t criticism people level at him. Like, the problem isn’t that he was a dick to his rich, lower-class wife. It’s not even particularly that he married his wife for her money. It’s that he overlooked her poor connexions in order to do so.
Thinking about it, while I’m stuck in the “I can’t tell if we’re supposed to condemn these people or recognise that they’re the ones who truly understand how the world works” headspace, can I just take a moment to say fair fucking play to Penelope Clay. Sure, she’s got a name like a second-string Batman villain but, despite being barely in the story, she manages to manoeuvre herself into a full on “heads I win, tails you lose” situation.
The thing that makes me think that maybe we’re supposed to respect the social climbers at least a little bit is that Mr Elliott’s final betrayal (insofar as it is one) is that he runs off with Mrs Clay who Sir Walter Elliott had clearly been intending to marry himself. But, also, Sir Walter Elliott marrying Mrs Clay would clearly have been a terrible idea because she was, y’know, a ruthless social climber who’d ditch him the moment she saw a better opportunity. And we know she’d do this, because it’s exactly what she does.
For all Mr Elliott is a wrong’un (maybe?), Mrs Clay has him completely backed into a corner. It doesn’t matter how much a charming two-faced cad he is, he can marry as many of Sir Walter’s daughters as he likes but if Mrs Clay marries Sir Walter and has a son by him then Mr Elliott gets fuck all. So, no matter what happens, Mrs Clay (who is nobody from nowhere) completely gets to decide what happens to Kellynch Hall. Neither Sir Walter Elliott nor Mr Elliott actually have any agency in this situation at all—unless they break the habits of their respective lifetimes and have an honest conversation with each other about how neither of them should marry Mrs Clay.
Ultimately the final twist isn’t Mr Elliott runs off with Mrs Clay, it’s Mrs Clay—who is holding all the cards—decides she’d rather become Mistress of Kellynch by marrying the younger, hotter guy than by marrying the older, less hot guy. I repeat: fair fucking play, Penelope.
So that’s the 1971 Persuasion. As I said, I really loved it, either because it’s good, or because I really love Persuasion. In any case, it deserves a full Darcy: ten thousand a year.
A full Darcy already! And what a fun essay. 🙂 Capt. Wentworth’s hair sounds like its own character. Maybe it also deserves …
“a fine living somewhere on my estate.”
Persuasion is my favorite Jane Austen and I am unreasonably passionate about the 1995 adaptation. I’m calling the 1971 Persuasion the one I could not make it through without falling asleep – apologies to this adaptation – it is not the fault of the adaptation but of my watching it late in the evening but I struggled. I did actively laugh out loud at the number of times they use ‘persuade.’ It’s practically a drinking game.
I really liked Anne but agree with you about her hair – it’s so big and elaborate and I just don’t think Anne would fuss that much with her hair. The connection between Wentworth and Anne does come across – the scene in the carriage where he asks her advice about telling the Musgroves about Louisa is so touching and those two actors convinced me that they had a previous connection to draw upon in this moment of uncertainty and Wentworth had strong faith in her opinion.
Captain Harville’s body language and face is amazing in this version. I always love the character of Harville in the book and his debate with Anne which sparks Wentworth’s writing of THE LETTER. But in the scenes when Mary throws (yet another) tantrum about not being allowed to stay and be with Louisa Instead of Anne – he stands behind everyone with his hand on his hip and his face is amazing. Captain Harville is over this shit.
Woohoo for bonus content about the P&Ps from the 50-60s. I am bummed not to have the opportunity to see Peter Cushing as Mr. Darcy. That would have been amazing. And I think I would have felt that vibe. I looked up that adaptation and Prunella Scales was Lydia Bennet (!!) And apparently Jane Austen appears in the cast list as well, portrayed by Thea Holme – hopefully as a narrator?? There’s a thumbnail image of Cushing and Daphne Slater (Lizzie) from that version on IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335734/?ref_=ttfc_fc_tt
Persuasion is not my favorite book of Jane Austen, but I really enjoyed this adaptation. I have seen only one before (2007) and I prefer to hear Anne’s thoughts out loud over watching her run the marathon.
I actually feel sympathy for Anne from 1971, but not pity like for Anne from 2007.
The outdoor scenes were pretty good except the sound – birds chirping and crunch of rocks soooo loud!
Thank you very much for this post Mr. Hall. It distracted me for a couple of minutes from tragedy in Ukraine. My thoughts, heart and prayers are constantly with Ukrainians since Thursday ❤❤❤
Persuasion is my favorite of Austen’s books and I was introduced to it by this adaption. A friend and I watched it on tv in Cairo while hotel-bound due to illness. Well, she was ill so I stayed with her in sympathy and by that point, I was tired of dealing. We’d joined a 3-week Egypt/Israel tour during our Easter breaks.
Thankfully, it was subtitled rather than dubbed in the local language.
I thought the actors did a good job and the mini-series format gave the story adaptation time to breathe and be thoughtful and Anne to be quiet and observant.
That is quite a green tartan!
This Persuasion was a nice way to spend an afternoon. A small thing but I had forgotten and enjoyed how realistically poorly behaved the children and dog are.
Though it made me wonder how much Louisa’s personality has changed versus it being the evidence of a long slow recovery from a concussion. They describe her as no longer dancing and now startling at loud noises, which are understandable results of a concussion. What will happen if their temperaments match while she is recuperating but not when she is recovered and maybe wants to dance and be loud again.
Yes! The children were hilarious! They totally remind me of my own as toddlers – especially knocking the blocks down 🙂
I love the problem of Mr. Elliot. I’m going to have to watch the 1971 version now, not just for the full 10,000 a year rating (capital!) but I really need to see how it handled the Fateful Disclosures of Mrs. Smith. I adore the 1995 version, but it really simplified Mrs. Smith’s part to the point that she shows up as a bit of a kook. And I can see why there’s a need to simplify such an intricate set of revelations for a TV audience, but I thought it was a shame that it got reduced to “He was rich; he’s lost it” rather than even “Oh, he’s still rich, but being rich hasn’t made him happy, so now he’s staked all his happiness on becoming a baronet.” But then there’s the whole bit in the book about Mr. Elliot’s previous acquaintance with the Smiths, his behavior toward his friend Mr. Smith, and his direct culpability for Mrs. Smith’s current straitened circumstances. And it’s interesting how Austen cascaded these multiple revelations, because Anne is already prepared to condemn Mr. Elliot for selfishness and duplicity in his maneuverings against Mrs. Clay, and only then does Mrs. Smith come out with the rest of it. Which leaves the final villainy as his specific mistreatment of an actual person, and that one I think still holds up. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I wonder if Austen added that bit because, just as you say, otherwise it’s hard to pin down whether he’s really a villain or not — whether his selfishness is really villainous or just, uh, practical.
And yes, fair fucking play to Penelope Clay.
Thanks for this really interesting review. I love Persuasion, and after this endorsement I’ll be seeking out the 1971 version.
The 1967 P&P sounds like a very similar situation to Doctor Who of that era, which was tied up in similar contractual restrictions about repeat broadcasts. At least the 1967 P&P survives in entirety: and as the BBC has managed to publish all the surviving Who episodes, perhaps P&P will one day make it?
In the meantime, if you’re really keen to watch the rest of the 1967 P&P, and if you’re near London, it’s apparently possible to watch it all at the BFI at the Southbank – also possibly Manchester or Bradford. Here for example is episode 1: http://collections-search.bfi.org.uk/web/Details/ChoiceFilmItems/154055794
Far from ideal obviously! But if watching it is a priority, perhaps it’s better than nothing!
Unfortunately, I’m unable to weigh in on Persuasion, as I’m trying to hoard some new Austen content for later in life and haven’t read the book yet (so didn’t watch).
However, not only did I watch the first two episodes of the 1967 P&P, I noticed that someone – or more specifically “Mistress of Pemberley” – has posted a playlist of P&P compilations of scenes in different adaptations that has most of the 1967 version (if not all of it – there’s no way to tell) included, so you can at least watch all the good bits. It’s a pretty frustrating way to watch (and a couple were out of order/repeated) and it took me until ten videos in to realize there were timestamps in the description so I didn’t need to waste so much time searching for when the 1967 version bit was……but if anyone reading this is as obsessive as me and enjoyed the first two episodes as much as I did, I recommend checking these out to watch thru the end of the 1967 version:
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLGztbV-iqtGhUIp8RXkHt7FLxGMzNopwR
As you pointed out, the 1967 adaptation contains SHOCKING Mary erasure. But at least Lydia is the tallest??? I have nothing to add but strong agreement that it should have been Kitty, not Mary, if you cut anyone…And somehow having to marry off four daughters doesn’t sound as daunting as five – as you said, five being too many is the point?
Your description of Mr. Bennet’s visit to Netherfield slew me.
🤣 Introducing the Bingleys before the ball and showing Mr. Bennet meeting them was a bizarre choice…
Overall this one is a funny, though to me pretty effective, mix of adding/changing things and fidelity to the original. We get most of the lines that I want to hear in a P&P adaptation (though now you’ve pointed it out, I’m shocked and horrified Kitty didn’t serve her one purpose in life and cough). It’s interesting to see what was kept vs expanded vs cut – for example, why include Sir William Lucas’s son, who (a quick Google showed me) is only called “a young Lucas, who came with his sisters” in the book, but cut Maria Lucas? (I assume for the joke Mrs. Bennet makes and not wanting to deal with Maria at Rosings?) Also, I guess no one in 1967 can say Georgiana properly?? Or they thought people wouldn’t like it? Everyone calls Darcy’s sister ‘Georgina’ which is sort of what I mean in terms of like – I’m not sure *why* that’s what you would change?😂
As usual, I have a few quibbles about character: Charlotte came off as maybe a bit too harsh? (Like mean, rather than practical/resigned to her fate?) Mr. Collins was…well, he can never be too silly, but he was a bit like a dumb puppy and lacked the sort of overstuffed self-importance competing with obsequiousness that makes him really hilarious/odious to me (’95 is still my favorite Mr. Collins). 9 out of 10 times my complaint about Wickham is that he’s not hot enough haha, which was true here as well. This Wickham was just…not for me😅 (his performance was..fine? I just need my Wickhams h🔥t and sleazily charming or I have trouble buying them. Why do so many adaptations fail to realize that Wickham needs to be like…sexy enough that Lizzie is immediately really drawn to him?).
Still, I really liked this Lizzie and was won over by her performance. I think most of us are not really picturing this kind of a cute, button-nosed Lizzie with a bit of a dishy ’60s vibe, but she totally pulled it off and convinced me that this was a valid imagining of Elizabeth.
You’re right about the sexual tension…this Darcy was not as stuffy/standoffish as I usually picture him, and yet his performance and chemistry with this Lizzie won me over as well. The kiss at the end was pretty satisfying to watch (and a cute added on bit where *slight spoiler* a conversation from the proposal (I think?) was moved to after it and took place in a very sweet/fun to watch carriage ride home to Pemberley, which includes Darcy – in a shockingly non-cringey way (*cough looking at you 2005 cough*) – calling Lizzie Mrs. Darcy.
So yeah, I really enjoyed this version and would definitely watch it again~
Also, wow, being deprived of Grand Moff Darcy is pretty devastating. That picture of Peter Cushing as Darcy is just….*insert drooling emoji, except the old android one that is just kind of a melted blob*
Looking forward to Emma (or whatever happens to come) next~
P.S. I’ll just say here rather than returning to the 1940 P&P post that I also noticed that ’95 Jane looks like a Regency portrait. I was holding back from saying what you expressed, which is..that means she really doesn’t look very pretty from a modern perspective, which takes you out of it when she’s supposed to be the most beautiful sister. You’re right, Rosamund Pike is 2005 Jane 😅 I’ll have to give her a second chance…😊 Maybe I just have it in my head that Jane isn’t very smiley/bubbly and found Pike to be too friendly/open to be like quintessentially Jane to me??? Tho I suppose I should be saving all these thoughts for when we get to the 2005 version! This is making me feel like I need to reread the book…though I currently have 41 (physical) books out of the library (not counting ebooks…) so maybe that’s a bit unrealistic😅😅😅
Me: Thinking I edited the ADHD out of my post by fixing most of the run-on sentences and weird grammar switches, and keeping it short and sweet this time
Also Me: skims what I wrote 🤦🤦🤦🤦
Sorry, hope I’m not too indecipherable😅
I just read your post AFTER I posted only to realize that we said lots of the same things! Especially the hint/link about picking through those compilations to get most of the 1967 P&P, which I quite enjoyed (though the method was irritating). Anyway, should have read the whole thread before posting, so I could have at least attempted to say something new! I agree with you so much about your analysis, though.
I loved this adaptation of Persuasion, too! I agree that Anne’s hair was a mess at first–looked like she’d slept in her wig, but I did notice that her hair and clothes got much better over the course of the show. At the beginning was the hideous green tartan dress, and by the end, her hair was neatly and modestly done, and she had very well-cut outfits in flattering colors. Nice outward manifestation of her increasing inner confidence.
I agree about Captain Wentworth’s frightening sideburns, too, but I also liked that you kind of forgot about them as his appeal grew throughout the show. They were a well-suited pair.
I think the real reason Mr. Elliott was a villain was because he screwed over Mrs. Smith’s husband, then her, by leading her husband into shady investments, then by not tending to her inheritance, and leaving her almost destitute and ill and refusing to pay back money he had owed her husband, and to do whatever he needed to do to release the estate as the executor. I always find it strange that Mrs. Smith didn’t tell Anne any of this when she thought Anne might marry Mr. Elliott. That’s not what a bestie does! Unless she was trying to hedge her bets by hoping that Anne might be able to influence him to do right by Mrs. Smith in the end if she did marry him. And leave her to live her life with a creep–not cool, lady…
Then there’s whatever Mr. Elliott was up to with the all-powerful Mrs. Clay and whatever happened to his dead wife. He was pretty despicable, even though he didn’t run off with a Lydia. I agree that he was just desserts for Sir Walter Elliott and Elizabeth, though.
I loved how it was always this huge group of people wandering around the countryside, or around Lyme, or jamming into Captain Harville’s house, or into a drawing room in Bath, or at a concert. Very few tete a tete opportunities, always awkward glances across a crowd or inferences in an overheard conversation, or talking about things that are secretly upsetting Anne or Captain Elliott. Or Mary being awful to everyone and everyone putting up with it because they are too polite. Lots of interesting group dynamics at play.
I also loved the extended scene at the end of Anne and Frederick wandering around Bath talking about ALL that happened and telling the truth about their feelings. It’s so touching and satisfying.
But all in all, quite well done, and I’m very happy to have watched it. I give it $8000 a year, though (gotta save some room for the best adaptations!).
Ooh, ooh, I found a playlist on YouTube that has compilations of most key scenes in about 8 adaptations of P&P, including the 1967 version. You have to cue each one up to the 1967 version, but you can get a sense of the whole production, including many more lovely “get a room” looks (totally agree that it’s the most brazen in a good way version I’ve seen–no suppressed longing with a flash of heat here and there, this Darcy is hot for her and you can tell!). Here’s the link: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLGztbV-iqtGhUIp8RXkHt7FLxGMzNopwR I love this Darcy, Lewis Fiander–he’s super flirty and haughty both, and so tender at the end. And Lizzy (Celia Bannerman) is also lovely, charming and witty. And he seems to be genuinely fond of Lady Catherine, which I don’t think I’ve seen before. I’ve never seen either of them in anything else, but they are up there with my favorite casting. I think, actually, they are #2 behind Colin and Jennifer. Both proposal scenes are great, Mr. Bennet (Batman’s butler himself Michael Gough) is great. Very sad there’s no Mary–if you’re going to kill off a daughter, better it be Kitty, I think, being such a shadow of Lydia.
And Vivian Pickles was a hilarious Mrs. Bennet, totally over the top, and I couldn’t help but think of her in Harold and Maude, where her mothering led her son to keep fake attempting suicide to punish her. Her costuming was hilarious. There was one scene, when she visited Netherfield when Jane was sick, where her hat had this enormous feather hanging over the front that flopped around every time she moved her head, and you could tell that Vivian thought it was funny too, because she kept making it flop when she’d say outrageous things. I actually thought that Allison Steadman might have modeled her performance on Vivian’s–lots of similarities of tone of voice, etc.
So much fun to find a new version that is so great!
I’m behind you again in viewing, though. Haven’t watched the Emma yet, but I’ll get to it soon. Still loving that you’re doing this and giving me a good excuse to watch!!!
Oh, also, a definite $10,000 a year for the 1967 P&P!
I went on an Austen adaptation kick once I discovered the 1995 P&P, and saw both this one and the later movie. I agree – although this was quite fuzzy and ‘shot on videotape’ in terms of cinematography, as storytelling and acting, it’s excellent. I love the movie with Ciaran Hinds, except for that damn circus during the kiss. What were they thinking?