A man in a long trench coat – shoes muddied from a long trek – walks into the dawn of a new day. Music dramatically resounds over the tall grass beyond the fence, harkening back to a recognizable theme. She double takes. And for forty-five seconds, we watch a Stoic-faced man walk to the beat of dramatically romantic music — endlessly towards the camera.
“You have bewitched me, body and soul,” Darcy starts. “And I… I… I,” grimace,” love you.”
It’s just plain romantic.
“Well, your hands are cold,” says Lizzie.
The cinematography of Kierra Knightley’s “Pride and Prejudice” is unbelievably captivating. The movie’s music is the soundtrack we probably all wish was the backdrop to our love life, and the patterns of sunlight and moody rooms tell stories beyond what words can. It’s just plain nostalgic for most viewers, whether you grew up on it or not.
Personally, I hope to one day capture Keira Knightley’s bangs style.
But there is a right answer, objectively, to the question of which Pride and Prejudice film is better – Keira Knightley’s version of Lizzie in the 2005 film compared to the 1995 BBC drama miniseries with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. The miniseries is simply more accurate to the reading of the book.
“In declaring myself thus, I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends, and I hardly need add my own judgment,” says Darcy, top hat in hand. “I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard.”
Darcy, you pig. How dare you speak of Lizzie, your love, this way?
Or, as Lizzie says, “I have every reason in the world to think ill of you,” spritely (and accurate to the reading of the book).
In the 1995 miniseries, Lizzie is not so much the whimsical woman of Keira Knightley’s world, but an intelligent, thoughtful and bold woman. Darcy is not so much the Stoic with gaping mouth, but a presumptuous and prejudiced rich man who learns to get over himself. They’re relatable. They’re real. They’re characters.
With more impressive acting, and with less stress on the looks and feels of cinematography, I feel like I’m in the awkward, romantic and loud rooms with Lizzie, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins, Lady de Bourgh, Jane, Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Bingley. I see the humanity of the characters. Maybe I’m a grandma for preferring something closer to reality than a creative cinematic piece. But we get to see the growth of humility in Darcy shine just a little brighter in the miniseries than the 2005 film, and we grow to love his character after hating him for half the show. He’s a knowable character.
And when he finally comes back around to ask Lizzie once more, after saving Lydia’s reputation for Lizzie’s sake, his character is clearly the better of Lizzie’s two loves.
However, their words, passionate as they are, are not for the faint of heart to understand. The miniseries may be more accurate to the book, but that means the words are Austenian and old.
In fact, it took me two watches to thoroughly enjoy the character work that happens. It’s like reading a book. It takes time.
Which begs the question. What’s the point of a movie? Accuracy and objectivity? Cinematography and music? Maybe what viewers need from a movie or show is the fast-paced character work, beautifully captured and crafted through cinema. Maybe the point of a movie is that it’s not like reading the book.
Maybe what a non-Austinian needs is the romantic, fast-paced nature of Keira Knightley’s Lizzie, so they can dip their toe into the world of Austen rather than plunging and drowning in the miniseries’ high English words and character work.
But the miniseries certainly has its own way of making “Pride and Prejudice” more accessible, with its explanation of societal norms that are simply assumed in the book by Austen — from Lady de Bourgh’s reign over Mr. Collins life more thoroughly explored to the significance of certain locations throughout the book more expressly depicted through film scenes.
Perhaps you think me a book snob by the end of my arguments. And I certainly don’t dismiss the allegations. But the question still remains: What is the point of a movie? What is the point of putting “Pride and Prejudice” on TV?
If it is to be accurate to the characters, the BBC’s version wins. But the 2005 film is more impressive in its sweeping landscapes, soundtrack music and whimsical outlook on romance. Both film pieces are beautifully crafted and performed. Both are worth watching. Both are worth dreaming and crying and laughing to.
And while the man in a long trench coat staring down his love over a sunrise will always be nostalgic and memorable, the man with the top hat smiling with all his teeth for the first time at his wedding day will always have a deeper meaning because of the character formed over the course of an entire series. Much like the book.
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