When we hear of a new adaptation of one of Jane Austen’s seminal works, there’s a sort of checklist of things that we expect. Gorgeous gowns. Stately architecture. Romantic chemistry. Many serviceable adaptations can tick all of these boxes and be a perfectly enjoyable watch. The challenge is to make something that feels fresh, that justifies its own existence by offering something we haven’t seen before. Georgia Oakley’s Sense and Sensibility presents a modern, naturalistic version of Austen’s novel. 

Oakley emerged as an exciting new filmmaker with her debut feature, Blue Jean, at the Venice Film Festival in 2022. Her fresh perspective is exactly what allows this new Austen adaptation to succeed. She has a strong knack for visual storytelling, a talent that serves this film well. And she crafts more than pretty pictures. You can feel every emotion of this story in the trees and in the floorboards. They blow with the wind and crackle with the fire. Oakley’s focus on environments elevates Sense and Sensibility from just another adaptation to something teeming with life. 

For those unfamiliar with Austen’s novel, it follows the women of the Dashwood family after their father’s death. They must then leave their family home and move to the country. The two eldest sisters, Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Marianne (Esmé Creed-Miles), must face longing and heartbreak as they hope to find their perfect matches. 

Austen’s work leaves room for plenty of interpretations, and it’s no surprise a rising director would find something personal to dig into. In Oakley’s adaptation, she clearly fell in love with the tale of sisterhood. Despite being a proper romance from start to finish, she also manages to emphasize that the most important (and the most interesting) relationship is between Elinor and Marianne. 

The film does not always deliver on a story level, and when it slips back into something resembling a more conventional retelling, it falters. You can feel Oakley’s passion for certain aspects of the story more than others, and it hurts the cohesion of the thematic content. Screenwriter Diana Reid adapts the story into a voice that feels distinct to these two women, but the screenplay isn’t airtight. Still, the good far outweighs the parts that don’t quite come together. 

Edgar-Jones and Creed-Miles certainly have chemistry with their respective love interests, but they really come alive when they act alongside one another. The story revolves around the tension between their personalities: Elinor is the “sensible” older sister, prioritizing politeness and composure, while Marianne is a hurricane of passion and emotionality. It creates a push and pull between these two actresses. Elinor is constantly feeling the impulse to rein Marianne in, and Marianne is a young woman who refuses to be held back. She can’t understand why people should be asked to keep within themselves those passions that are begging to burst free. We see it in the way she dances, runs, plays music, and, above all, loves.

The rigid structures of the various homes and waystations of the Dashwood sisters act as both a physical manifestation of the confines Marianne refuses to be bound by as well as the reminder of the societal standards Elinor feels obligated to adhere to. Then there is the earthy naturality of Marianne’s beloved trees and waters, a liberation that Elinor doesn’t even dare to let herself long for. Shots of nature abound, and you can often hear the rain and the wind when the characters are indoors, a sound design choice that supports Oakley’s narrative interests. It is reminiscent of last year’s Hamnet, with its lush natural world doing much to establish character. 

The sisters’ romances reflect all of these key aspects of their characters. Elinor’s determination to behave within what is deemed “socially acceptable” prevents her from telling Edward (George MacKay) how she feels until it might be too late. Marianne’s desire to find a man as outwardly passionate as she is leads her to overlook the man who actually has her best interests at heart. 

Creed-Miles often stands out, but only because Edgar-Jones arguably has the harder job. She plays a character defined by her, as the title suggests, sense, and must provide a surface for Marianne’s sensibility to glint off of. This requires a performance that is more self-reflexive and restrained. While they work well together, the performances are one part of this movie that doesn’t feel quite so fresh and exciting. No one is doing a bad job in any sense, but in a film that otherwise feels like such a unique object, the performances feel more in line with what you’d see in any run-of-the-mill Austen adaptation. 

It’s a shame this film inevitably has to exist in the shadow of Ang Lee’s iconic 1995 adaptation, especially since Oakley comes at it from a much different angle. Her willingness to depart from the original text while still holding onto those core themes that readers love about Austen’s work makes this film a worthy addition to the catalog of Austen film adaptations. They are able to speak to a fear of feeling anything too strongly that feels inextricable from womanhood. 

Oakley’s adaptation does exactly what you’d want it to: honors the original work while infusing something new. It’s a strong argument for letting new voices make their mark on beloved stories, and often it’s those new voices who have the most to say about it. 

Review courtesy of Claire May Lewis

Feature image credit to Focus Features