You're Unfaithful, but I Like You Anyway

     Whenever a new film or television adaptation of a Jane Austen novel comes out, I am frustrated, even angry, if it is unfaithful to the book. Mind you, it doesn't have to be word-for-word. It can even "do away" with a character or two, or with entire scenes -- that's fine with me (Emma Thompson's screenplay of Sense and Sensibility does away with quite a few of both). But if the pure essence of the story is in any way corrupted or contains the smallest whisper of "revisionist," if the characters in any way stray from Austen's crystal clear portrayals, if the elegant language of Austen is "dumbed down," and the details of production incorrect to the period, I'm very unhappy. Besides the Thompson Sense and Sensibility, the adaptations I consider truly Austen-worthy are:

     Emma (with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong, ITV 1996)

     Persuasion (with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds, BBC 1995)

     Pride and Prejudice (with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, A & E, 1995) 

     Mansfield Park (with Sylvestra Le Touzel and Nicholas Farrell, BBC, 1986)

     I also like certain aspects of the latest Sense and Sensibility and Northanger Abbey, both BBC, 2007. Every other adaptation (and I've seen them all, either whole or in more-than-generous part) is, in my opinion, guilty of at least one of the offenses listed above. I am, however, a big fan of Clueless. Why? Nowhere in the film's credits does it claim to be "based upon the novel Emma by Jane Austen." Only those who know the novel recognize Clueless to be a very clever modern-day retelling, but it is not an adaptation. The film took the modern-day concept and ran all the way with it; it is not a mixed bag of period costume, off-the-mark characterizations, and easier-to-understand (for whom?) vernacular, claiming to be Austen's Emma.

     All that said, I must admit to a certain inconsistency in myself. When it comes to other books, I somehow don't mind unfaithful adaptations -- in many cases, I even like and enjoy them. For instance, I love A. S. Byatt's novel Possession and was very excited when I heard a film adaptation was being done. I missed it in the theaters, however, and didn't get to watch the DVD till years later, after I left the monastery. When I did finally watch it, I actually liked it, even though the character of Roland was changed from British to American, and the film was but a mere shadow of the book, and a very spotty shadow, at that. I also am not crazy about Gwenyth Paltrow as a rule, and some details of the film I found and still find laughable. But I enjoy it, nonetheless.

     Alcott's Little Women is a book I've cherished since my brother gave me the beautiful Tasha Tudor-illustrated edition for Christmas, 1972. I have always loved the 1933 film with Katharine Hepburn as the perfect Jo. For me, it captures the very atmosphere of Alcott's book, and the cast delivered the faithful dialogue so naturally and convincingly. In lesser hands, Alcott's language can come off stilted and cloying. I'm not enamored with the 1949 film, which I think is, for the most part, seriously miscast, so much so that I just can't watch it all the way through. Also, its pacing is much too slow. However, the 1994 adaptation is wonderful. Although Winona Ryder is physically not Alcott's Jo, being much too petite, she conveys the essence of the character beautifully. The rest of the cast is equally fine; the script, though certainly not word-for-word or even scene-for-scene, and perhaps bearing a few social and political banners that I'm not sure Alcott intended in her simple but relevant story, is well-written and moves along nicely. I'm not bothered at all by these small inaccuracies and liberties, and rank the film among my top favorites. I only wish that someday, someone will do an adaptation of Little Women that places Laurie's proposal to Jo in the correct place, which is after Jo comes back from New York.

     Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede is another novel I love and read every few years. There is a film version from the late '60s, starring Diana Rigg (inspired casting). The film runs 100 minutes, which is not a sufficient length of time to include every storyline and plot twist of the novel, so the screenplay focuses on just one basic storyline. Unfortunately, that storyline is nowhere to be found in the novel; or, rather, they took two of the novel's storylines, altered one of them considerably, and put it together with the second one to make an entirely new storyline. The screenwriter also sacrificed accuracy in portraying monastic life, in favor of drama. The Rule of St Benedict was pretty much torn to bits in this film, so it is not a true picture of monasticism. Still, I like it. The acting is good, the story in and of itself is good -- I just separate it from the novel in my mind, and enjoy the film for itself.

     So why can't I do the same when it comes to Austen? Why can't I mentally divorce her novels from those less-than-faithful versions? Is her work so "sacrosanct" to my literary sense and sensibility?