Screenplay by Emma Thompson
From the novel by Jane Austen
Directed by Ang Lee
Starring Emma
Thompson, Hugh Grant, Alan Rickman and Kate Winslet
1995
Running time 136
minutes
Ah, now this is a love story: a classic book and a perfect adaptation.
There’s real emotion, real chemistry, fun comedy, real hope and fear all the
way through; the story puts us through the emotional wringer, plunging us to
the depths and lifting us back up to the heights. Get out the Kleenex and let’s
see what we can learn from this gem.
I am going to start with some
general notes first — some things I suggest you look for as you’re watching
this film — particularly in terms of THEME, HOPE, FEAR and STAKES.
Some writers who take my workshops
and read my blog complain about the films I use for examples of story elements
and structure. I’m particularly apt to use Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon and The Silence of
the Lambs — to the horror of some romance writers who wouldn’t be caught
dead (sorry, I’ll stop now) reading those books. But I always try to get
writers to understand that they can learn just as much from stories outside
their own genre, because the elements of story — and suspense — are the same no
matter how many bodies are or are not falling or how many creatures are or are
not lurking in the basement.
Personally,
I find serious horror in Sense and
Sensibility (and any Austen book),
and it’s not a horror of romance, either. I am, however, horrified at the
Netflix description of the film as “Austen’s classic tale of 19th century
etiquette.” This story is more about monsters in the basement than it is about
etiquette.
Actually,
it is about an evil much bigger than a monster in the basement, and if you ask
me, the fact that that monster is lurking under the romance and comedy is what
makes this story a masterpiece.
ACT ONE
Just
wanted to note for the filmmakers among you that the credits sequence is just
titles on black, with period music underneath. This is a technique often used
with period films, I think used deliberately to slow the audience down and put
them squarely in another time. Music is a pure time machine from — or to — the
period it was written; it works on us in a way that no visual or dialogue ever
could.
PROLOGUE
I
would say that the first short sequence (4 min.) is a prologue — and a hugely
important one.
The
film opens at the deathbed of Mr. Dashwood, the father of our not-yet-seen
heroines. Mr. Dashwood has called in John Dashwood, his son from a previous
marriage, to whom Mr. Dashwood’s entire fortune and houses will pass under the
law of primogeniture, which bars women from inheriting property and keeps both
the patriarchy and the aristocracy intact by mandating that family fortunes
pass undivided to the eldest son of a family, with only minimal livings carved
out for any remaining male children.
Before
he dies, Dashwood extracts a promise from John that he will take care of the
present Mrs. Dashwood and her three daughters, Elinor, Marianne, and Margaret,
who by this law of primogeniture are only allowed to inherit 500 pounds. (THE
DEATHBED PROMISE, in this case, promptly broken.)
John’s
original intention is to give the Dashwood women, his stepmother and
stepsisters, an additional 3000 pounds so they can live comfortably on the
interest, but in the course of a carriage ride up to Norland Park, where John
and his wife will take over the Dashwood house, John’s harridan of a wife,
Fanny, whittles weak-willed John’s gift down to nothing at all: “Twenty pounds
here and there should be ample. What would four women need with more than 500
pounds?”
(Also
in this carriage ride, John also voices the FEAR that Marianne will lose her
bloom and end up a spinster like Elinor.)
This
series of scenes is a beautiful — and outwardly funny — dramatization of greed
in action, and Fanny makes a detestable villain. But more importantly, the
scenes introduce the real villain of the story, and every Austen story:
primogeniture, which kept the rich superrich, the poor practically or literally
indentured as servants to the rich, and women enslaved to men, for centuries.
Stylistically,
Jane Austen was writing comedies, but the stories are built on social outrage,
and I believe it’s that canny blend that made and keeps these books classics.
So the death of Mr. Dashwood, and the
Dashwood women’s subsequent disinheritance, is the INCITING INCIDENT. (4:30)
One
more note as you’re watching this film: pay special attention to how the
storytellers use weather to create mood and emotion, and also pay attention to
the set decoration: the paintings on the walls behind the characters constantly
comment — often hilariously — on the story and themes.
SEQUENCE ONE:
The
whole next sequence is very filmic, played at first almost as a montage, with
fast cuts between extremely short scenes. We are introduced to the extremely
sympathetic Dashwood women: Mrs. Dashwood, Elinor, Marianne and 11-year old
Margaret, as they are reduced to guests in their own house in the midst of
their deep grief over the loss of their husband and father. While Fanny
steamrolls through the house claiming everything in it as her own, the Dashwood
women scramble to find other living arrangements on their tiny inheritance.
These are great character introductions to Elinor and Marianne, Emma Thompson
and Kate Winslet. The filmmakers deftly find comedy even in this tragic
situation, eg. Elinor’s first line to Marianne as Marianne plays the world’s
most doleful dirge on the pianoforte: “Would you play something else, dearest?
Maman has been weeping all morning.”
I
see this movie as having a dual protagonist, even though Elinor is clearly the
more dominant one and the point of view character. But Austen, and Thompson in
the adaptation, are using the sisters to demonstrate a theme: literally, sense
and sensibility. At the beginning of the story the sisters are out of balance:
Elinor is all sense and Marianne all sensibility (passion). By the end of the
story (and partly through the crucible of love), they have each gained some of
what the other has, to make both of them more fully realized women.
This
is what you could call a “character cluster,” like the three-brother or
three-sister structure you often see, especially in stories with a fairy tale
structure like the Harry Potter books/films. If you’re thinking about writing a
dual protagonist, this is an excellent example to study.
Note
also the restatement of THEME when Margaret asks Elinor why John and Fanny are
coming to take over Norwood when they already have a house of their own. Elinor
tells Margaret, “Houses go from father to son. It's the law.” That extra
emphasis on how this is the law makes it very clear what the problem is, and
keeps this societal FORCE OF ANTAGONISM very present in the story.
Now,
enter Edward Ferrars, Fanny’s intelligent but very reserved brother, Hugh Grant
at his diffidently charming best. (The scenes become longer here.) Edward’s
formal bow, and the Dashwood women’s polite curtseys in return, become a
RUNNING GAG in the film (a running gag is a staple of comedy). Each time the
action stops as Edward does his best at this bow, but there’s something always
just a little off about the timing.
Marianne
wants to hate him, especially because Fanny has kicked Margaret out of her own
room to give her brother the best view in the house, but Edward has already
noticed the offense and quietly moved himself to a guest room.
Edward
instantly understands the pain of the Dashwoods’ circumstances, bonds with and
draws out youngest daughter Margaret, and falls hard — albeit reservedly — for
kindred soul Elinor. In a beautiful scene in the library, Edward and Elinor
coax Margaret out from where she has been hiding under a table by pretending
ignorance of the source of the Nile, and we see that Edward and Elinor are
perfectly, beautifully matched: intelligent, witty, sensitive, kind, and
off-the-wall. They are at their most charming when they’re together. This is a
common and I think crucial scene in any romance or romantic subplot —THE DANCE —
where we see that two people are perfect for each other. So much more
meaningful than “meet cute”!
And
this scene gives us our great HOPE for Elinor: that she has found the great
love of her life and they will make a true, encompassing marriage. It’s also, I
would say, her CALL TO ADVENTURE (separate from the INCITING INCIDENT) —
meeting her true love.
But
there’s more to this than love. In her circumstances, Elinor’s life and her
family’s lives depend on her making a good marriage, because women are prohibited
from earning an income. A happy marriage to a well-off man is the dream, the
best possible outcome — but the stakes couldn’t be higher, and Elinor’s
situation is more than tenuous; she has not the slightest power over her future
except to marry. So this is the unstated but clear PLAN: to marry for love and
secure the family’s future. (15 min.)
We
see the couple’s feelings deepen when Edward catches Elinor crying as she
listens to Marianne play their father’s favorite song on the piano. He gives
her his handkerchief (which becomes what Joseph Campbell calls a TALISMAN: a
significant object for a character, like Luke Skywalker’s light saber and Harry
Potter’s — well, lots of things, but the cloak of invisibility, the Nimbus
2000, etc.).
The
ANTAGONISTS, Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars (Fanny and Edward’s mother), immediately go
about preventing this match. (Mrs. Ferrars is never physically present, only
offstage, but very present in the form of the threat of disinheriting Edward if
he makes an “unworthy marriage.”) (18 min.)
The
Dashwood women receive an offer of a cottage in Devonshire for minimal rent
from Mrs. Dashwood’s wealthy cousin, Sir John, but Mrs. Dashwood has seen the
“attachment” forming between Elinor and Edward and tells Marianne that they
will put off the move. (Look at the painting of a man on the wall right behind
Mrs. Dashwood as we see her thinking this over: it’s almost like a comic book
bubble showing her thoughts. This is the PLAN — to give Elinor opportunity to
engage with Edward, to make a happy marriage but also secure the family
fortune.)
You could say that there is one long
sequence here at Norwood (from 4:30 to 26 minutes), but you could also say it’s
two sequences. This is where I would say it breaks, at 19 minutes.
SEQUENCE TWO
Edward
and Elinor spend more time together and continue to fall in love; this is
accomplished in an amazingly short amount of film time.
The
horseback riding scene is especially interesting thematically: Elinor states
plainly "We (women) have no choice of any occupation whatsoever. You will
inherit your fortune, we cannot even earn ours." But we also see that
Edward is constrained by the threat of complete disinheritance if he does not
make a career and a marriage that his mother approves of. The scene also shows
that these two can talk honestly of deep issues.
We
also see another antagonist to the match: Marianne, who thinks that Edward is
not passionate enough for Elinor, and that Elinor’s feelings are too tepid to
be real love.
When
Marianne asks Elinor how she feels about Edward, Elinor says that she greatly
esteems him. Marianne chides her for being so dispassionate. (Settting up
ELINOR’S CHARACTER ARC: Elinor is not completely honest about her feelings,
which will get her into trouble down the road.)
In
another scene, Marianne asks their mother: "Can he love her? To love is to
burn, to be on fire." Marianne just comes right out and says what she
believes, and this sets up Marianne’s CHARACTER ARC. There’s also some
FORESHADOWING and FEAR for Marianne here when her mother replies that
Marianne’s passionate role models Juliet and Heloise made “rather bad ends.”
But
despite her objections, Marianne says she will support her sister’s wishes with
her whole heart.
Meanwhile
evil Fanny actively works to thwart the relationship by telling Mrs. Dashwood
that their mother has made it clear she will disinherit Edward should he marry
beneath his station. (22 min)
It’s
a devastating move because we are already so invested in Elinor and Edward’s
love — and oh, do we hate Fanny. There are also two PLANTS here: that Edward
will in fact be disinherited, and that he is too much of a gentleman ever to go
back on a promise, which will become very significant later.
At
dinner, Mrs. Dashwood announces they will leave immediately for her cousin's
estate. (NEW PLAN.)
The
next day Edward finds Elinor in the stable, saying goodbye to her horse, which
the family cannot afford to keep. (Horses are a classic symbol of perverse sexuality,
so this is a sly hint of Edward’s youthful romantic liaison that we will learn
about — not here, but eventually.) Edward says that he must speak to Elinor,
which we and Elinor think will be a marriage proposal. Instead Edward tells a
rambling story of his early education under the tutelage of Mr. Pratt (PLANT),
and before he can get to the point, Fanny races in telling him their mother
needs him immediately back at the family home. Edward obeys Fanny (JUST SAY
SOMETHING, STUPID!), and the Dashwoods move from their home to a cottage on the
estate of Mrs. Dashwood’s wealthy cousin, without a marriage proposal from
Edward to Elinor. (26 min.)
CLIMAX SEQUENCE TWO
(As I said, you could call that all one long sequence.)
SEQUENCE THREE: (27 min. to 45 min.)
This
sequence sets up Marianne’s story, as the first sequence, or two sequences, set
up Elinor’s.
The
Dashwoods arrive at Barton Cottage, their new, much smaller home (but I’d still
take it any day!) with gorgeous shots of the Devonshire countryside. (CROSSING
THE THRESHOLD and INTO THE SPECIAL WORLD.)
They
are heartily welcomed by the crass, noisy, but warm-hearted Sir John and his
mother-in-law, wealthy Mrs. Jennings, surrounded by their pack of dogs (dogs
are a classic symbol of the id and instincts, here run rampant). These are
ALLIES, and Mrs. Jennings is also the MENTOR/FAIRY GODMOTHER. There’s a great
moment when Margaret says later that she likes Mrs. Jennings because “She talks
about things. We never talk about things.”
They
settle into their new life: Elinor struggles to make ends meet for the family
and secretly pines for Edward (though she tells her mother that it’s more
sensible to be practical about the barriers to Edward marrying a woman without
a dowry. Again, Elinor’s character WEAKNESS — she’s practical against the
wishes of her own heart.)
Fiery
Marianne catches the eye of Sir John’s good friend, the county’s most eligible
bachelor, wealthy and cultured Colonel Brandon (a completely dreamy Alan
Rickman). (Just a quick aside — look at the paintings of dogs behind Sir John
and Mrs. Jennings in this scene as they tease Elinor.) Marianne scorns
Brandon’s attentions, dismissing him as too old (he’s 35 in the book). Brandon
is a perfect gentleman (and like Edward, very charming and attentive to young
Margaret, a CLUE). Elinor likes him, but is not immediately won over. And Alan
Rickman is great casting, here; he so often plays villains that there’s an
ambiguity about his performance which keeps us in suspense about whether or not
he’s a good man, and right for Marianne — after all, marrying for money often
leads to tragedy.
Elinor asks Mrs. Jennings about
Brandon and Mrs. Jennings tells Elinor that Brandon has a tragic past: as a
youth he fell in love with his father's young ward, and the family broke up the
lovers by sending Brandon away to the military and turning the girl out of the
house. She was “passed from man to man” and when Brandon returned from the West
Indies he searched for her and found her dying in a poorhouse.
This
is our FEAR for Marianne, and it’s a big one. In Austen’s time “ruin” for women
meant prostitution and the attendant poverty and syphilis – the worst possible
life.
Mrs.
Jennings’ unsubtle matchmaking turns Marianne away from Brandon. Instead she
falls hard for the young, handsome and dashing Willoughby, whom she meets in a
stormy romantic scene on a moor right out of Wuthering Heights (SETPIECE).
Willoughby also seems very well-fixed financially (set to inherit an older
relative’s nearby estate) and outspokenly shares Marianne’s passion for poetry
and music. Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret are instantly charmed; Marianne is openly
adoring. Elinor, though, has doubts …
CLIMAX OF ACT ONE - (45 minutes
into a 2-hour, 15-minute film)
There’s
HOPE but also FEAR, here — I felt Willoughby was a bit over the top in a way
that might backfire badly — might even lead to her “ruin.” Plus — this guy over
Alan Rickman? I think not. Still, what I love about this casting and
characterization is that he seems a good match for Marianne; it’s a legitimate
romantic dilemma, and keeps us in SUSPENSE about which is the right man for
her.
ACT II, PART 1
SEQUENCE FOUR
Willoughby and Marianne begin a very
unrestrained courtship, including going on reckless carriage rides with no
chaperone, which worries Elinor, but Marianne says if she had more shallow
feelings, she could conceal them as Elinor does. (Working the THEME of SENSE AND SENSIBILITY)
Brandon comes to invite the Dashwoods to a
picnic; Marianne will not say yes until Brandon invites Willoughby as well,
when he comes to pick up Marianne for another carriage ride. After she leaves,
Brandon tells Elinor that Marianne is completely unspoiled. Elinor confesses
that she’d prefer that her sister become acquainted with the ways of the world.
Brandon becomes quite agitated and counters that he once knew someone like
Marianne and when she become acquainted with the ways of the world, she was
ruined. (Our FEAR for Marianne.)
THEME:
We see that Brandon’s life has also been devastated by this romance which his
parents would not allow —
because of, of course, money.
At
the picnic, a messenger comes with a letter for Brandon and he takes off
immediately for London, clearly very troubled (PLANT). Willoughby entertains
the Dashwood women by making fun of Brandon’s stiffness; even Elinor has to
laugh. (A great scene to keep up the suspense about which man is right for
Marianne.)
Willoughby asks to speak to Marianne alone
the next day, and the entire Dashwood family assumes he is going to propose.
But when the family returns from church, expecting to find Marianne engaged,
Marianne is weeping and refuses to tell the family what happened. Willoughby
leaves abruptly, saying that he doesn't know when he'll return. Mrs. Dashwood
tries to think the best of Willoughby, but Elinor knows something is wrong,
Willoughby is acting guilty. At the end of the scene,
all the Dashwood women go to their rooms in tears except for Elinor, who sits
on the stairs drinking tea as sobbing comes from every door around her. (A nice
comic moment; Lee is always so aware of his genre.)
SEQUENCE FIVE
Mrs.
Jennings' daughter Charlotte arrives from London with a young friend named Lucy
Steele. This is also the beginning of an excellent comic subplot with Mrs.
Jennings’ twit of a daughter and her bitter husband, Hugh Laurie in a wonderful
performance — and a great
character arc, as his true colors come out later. It’s not just comedic; it’s
another variation on the theme of how marrying for money destroys lives, men’s
as well as women’s.
Lucy
tells Elinor that she's been eager to meet her, she’s heard so much about her. While the ladies are playing cards, Lucy pulls Elinor aside
and swears her to secrecy as she confides that she's been secretly engaged to
Edward Ferrars for five years. (PAYOFF of Edward’s interrupted story in
the stable.) Lucy makes Elinor promise not to tell a soul, but she wanted Elinor to know because Edward thinks of Elinor as a
sister. Lucy is obviously (to the audience) trying to get rid of Elinor, her
competition, but Elinor is shattered (remember the SETUP that Edward is too
honorable to ever go back on a promise of engagement). This is a huge REVELATION
which completes this DOUBLE MIDPOINT – devastation for both sisters, but
particularly for Elinor.
As
Elinor reels from this blow, Mrs. Jennings invites Marianne, Elinor and Lucy to
London with her to London for “the season” with the intent to marry them off.
(This is RECALIBRATION: a NEW PLAN.) Marianne is thrilled because she'll be
able to contact Willoughby. (PLAN and HOPE.)
(1 HR. 11
MINUTES - eleven extra minutes in the
first half, but that’s proportionate for a 2 hr. 15-minute movie.)
