There’s a never-ending discussion in my family about which adaptation of Pride and Prejudice is the best. Most of my sisters prefer the BBC miniseries led by Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, with its period-accurate costumes and closer adaptation of Jane Austen’s original novel. But as much as I appreciate that series, my heart has been captured forever by the beauty and joy of the 2005 film. When the soundtrack starts to wash over me as the film opens, I feel somehow like I’m coming home.
As we wander through the Bennets’ house at the beginning of the film, we meet five sisters and their slightly-overwhelmed parents and glimpse the chaos and the joy of their shared life. The Bennet sisters, both in their close bonds and their petty squabbles, remind me so much of me and my own sisters. I can’t help but smile as I watch them. And, though they are trying to navigate a very different society than my own, their struggles are so familiar. They’re looking for love and security, worried about their futures, their reputations, and ultimately their hearts.
This rendition of the classic story allows the characters at its center to be open with their emotions, less tied to the reticence that would have been expected in their era. As a result, we get to see their confusion and their longing, their hope and their fear, more clearly than in other adaptations. We witness the awkwardness they experience as they try to navigate the etiquette of their complex society with varying levels of success. We cringe with Elizabeth at the self-absorption and naivete of her younger sisters, and we feel foolish with her when she realizes the ways she has judged others incorrectly. We see Darcy’s discomfort and uncertainty, which give those who don’t know him the impression of arrogance. We hope for the best with Jane, and mourn with her when her expectations are dashed. And, of course, we experience Mr. Collins’ complete obliviousness to all social expectations and the general cloud of discomfort that surrounds everyone who interacts with him. We get to enter into these characters’ lives, to experience their emotions along with them, and we care more deeply for them as a result.
Beyond the excellent performances of the cast, which beautifully capture Austen’s iconic characters, the craftsmanship of this film makes all the difference. The cinematography is breathtaking, full of life and color and gorgeous landscapes. The soundtrack matches it for beauty: the piano-led score is one of my favorite musical pieces on earth. And the costumes, while criticized by some of my sisters for being less than period-accurate, play a key role in helping us understand the characters better. To give just one example, we first meet Darcy dressed in stiff, formal, dark clothes. Later, when he meets Elizabeth at Pemberley, he’s wearing a brighter coat with the buttons undone–he’s opening up. And, of course, when he and Elizabeth meet on the moors, he’s lost all the formality, the layers of vests and waistcoats that represented the barrier he’d built, and he approaches her in vulnerable hope.
I could talk about the moments in this film I love for hours–the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth dance and the rest of the world falls away; the sheer panic when Elizabeth realizes that Mr. Collins is about to propose; the delight of watching Mr. Bingley rehearse his proposal with Darcy by the lake…and so many more. But more than anything, I love this story. It’s the story of two people whose lives intersect, and who make snap judgments about each other. Who choose the wrong paths and communicate poorly, so it seems impossible that they could ever find their way to each other. But who are wise and humble enough to reconsider their original perceptions and to realize that the other is worthy of love. It may be set two hundred years ago, but it’s a story that never gets old.