Without doubt, this is the truest to the original novel by Jane Austen of all the versions made to date, and equally the quietest, the most stately and sedate. I won't worry about the story; anyone likely to watch this now will know already what it's about. It seems more and more likely to my sense that Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzie best represents the vision Jane Austen had of her brightest, most sparkling character: the sweetness is there, an interesting but not a perfect face (just as it should be); though perhaps just a little of the liveliness and archness that Austen wrote about is missing that you can find more easily in either Jennifer Ehle's excellent 90s TV Lizzie, or even Keira Knightley's more recent film outing. But in her bonnet and parasol, her curls wilfully asserting themselves, she's almost exactly what I imagined (apparently not everyone agrees).
David Rintoul's Darcy is on first watching, excessively stiff and not particularly entertaining to watch. There is so little mobility in his face, and on occasion even in his voice, that only careful repeated viewings reveal nuances in his performance. I do find myself liking his portrayal more now: it's very subtle, to be sure, no diving into pools or striding open-shirted through dawn meadows, but once you're used to the subtlety, the great formality provides a backdrop against which Darcy's own wit and growing interest in Lizzie stand out in the gentlest relief, like the pattern on a damask cloth.
So rich a text is bound to be full of favourite moments; and Weldon's script manages to include much of the wit and some of the humour of Austen's original, while also teasing out themes on marriage and happiness which suit her personal brief as a great feminist writer. I particularly love Lizzie's singing (I think it's dubbed but Garvie's acting of the singing is itself a pleasure to watch). The supporting cast is on the whole very good; I liked Uncle and Aunt Gardner and thought Mr Bingley and his sisters well cast. Mr Bennett was a little severe, and didn't seem to take the requisite pleasure in tormenting his wife.
I didn't find Mr Wickham very charming; but then I never do. It seems to me they never make him handsome enough how else could he charm her so much as to blind her to real goodness and excellence? I guess the makers of these programmes are always afraid he'll steal the limelight from Darcy but since that's exactly his function in the book, take the risk! Perhaps this version has receded into time and been superseded by later attempts that speak more directly to women now. But I'll be keeping it on my DVD shelves for a long time to come, to remind myself how well a little stately simplicity can work.
