JohnSol

I picked this up on whim from my local library. Being a fan of English settings and of period romance, I considered it a good candidate for some afternoon diversion. Unfortunately, it was one of those movies where you simultaneously want it to end, but feel impelled to watch it to finish (perhaps imagining that it will take a turn for the better, which this movie never does). So, yes, I was disappointed, but not as disappointed as I was when checking here and discovering that everyone who's reviewed this adaptation of a novel I admittedly have never read (and most likely never will, now) found it so wonderful!

I see lots of comments about Zeta-Jones, but fail to understand what's so noteworthy in her performance here. I found it flat and lacking in dimension (I guess those are the same things). Eustacia is selfish, fickle and flighty and because of that, primarily just distant and distracted. I appreciate that this is her nature, but instead of finding her intriguing or even mysterious, I found myself annoyed and disinterested. This lack of depth mad her, in my mind, clearly unworthy of either of her two love interests, even considering that one becomes an adulterer. I found nothing tragic in her character, no subtlety that would beg for understanding. In fact, she wasn't even very good at being the evil temptress/witch.

Worst of all, her character never really develops, serving instead simply to provide the antagonist to the plot. Sure, Catherine's a doll, but that alone isn't enough to sustain interest in her role here. She has developed into a marvelous actress since this movie was made(as more recent performances attest to), so I have to assume that her relative inexperience as an actress at this point, combined with poor production values in the making of the movie, cast her in this bad light.

Overall, the story tries so hard to moralize, but employs some pretty lame appeals for sympathy. In particular, Clym's loss of sight seemed silly; I didn't feel at all for this guy with all of his obsessive book-reading (and doesn't one of the characters even warn him that he'll "go blind from all your reading"). He can't even put the damn book down when he's in bed with his beautiful new bride. Furthermore, Ray Stevenson's acting adds nothing to the role, which I found only to be yet again another flat performance.

Now I admit Clive Owen's Damon had some fire to him and his easily stands out as the best performance, but it couldn't save the film. I won't go on and on, but I will remark that this BBC production is not on par with others they've taken on, such as the absolutely glorious 1995 BBC/A&E version of Pride and Prejudice, but then not having read Hardy, I have no way of knowing if he was as clever an artist as Jane Austen was. I have to admit there are horrible adaptations of her work out there, as well, so for now, I'll give Hardy the benefit of the doubt (how nice of me, you're thinking) and write this off to an uninspired telling of his tale.

Even ignoring my new-found passion for Austen (yes, I'm one of those) and the fact that I had just finished reading P&P literally days before viewing this version of it, I find it hard to believe that so many reviewers find anything of value in this unfortunate production - clearly stamped out on the MGM studio factory line, with little care or thought, like so many of the films of the period. Fortunately, my love of the novel, and of the superior Ehle/Firth version, allowed me to dismiss this with very little pain.

With that said, though, I still must comment on one thing that really seemed to miss the mark, and that I don't see mentioned elsewhere, and that was the way the Bennet sisters were presented. They ALL seemed like silly little girls and, although Garson's Elizabeth had an opportunity to demonstrate how "modern" her thinking was, she still came off as comical, not to be taken seriously. Austen made a very clear distinction in her work, between Lizzy and Jane on the one hand (intelligent, reflective, serious and sensitive) and their 3 younger sisters (flighty, man-hungry, vacuous), and that difference provided a potent (frequently humourous) backdrop to the character development and plot in her work. This version didn't even come close to presenting such a distinction.

Others' comments take care of the rest of my objections to this drivel, so I won't repeat them here. But I will add that even Olivier couldn't save it for me. He seemed the same person throughout the entire movie. Charming, yes, but did he show any sign of having accomplished the transformation that Elizabeth helps bring about in him in the real story? Did he learn anything about himself in the course of his relationship with her - other than her superior skill at archery (which, in its attempt to show her to be full of surprises and quite capable of upsetting Darcy's composure, only added to all the silliness).

The novel helps us understand how bright, intelligent and introspective individuals can accept their limitations, change their way of thinking about others and themselves and grow tremendously in the process. This MGM outing was more like an Andy Hardy movie with pretty costumes and a faux British setting.