Water ripples under green lily pads, trees sway in the wind and a tiny black inchworm crawls up the finger of a girl lying in the middle of a field. The soft sound of a violin filled the theater as I expectantly watched Georgia Oakley’s 2026 adaptation of the beloved Jane Austen novel, “Sense and Sensibility.”
When I first learned of the adaptation, I gasped with a mixture of horror and delight. As much as I love the story, I couldn’t help but wonder what crimes Hollywood would commit with yet another adaptation of a beloved tale. To add to my apprehension, I learned with a bit of research that the director, Georgia Oakley, debuted with the film “Blue Jean” about a lesbian PE teacher. She also made casting choices that reflected those values, such as Elliot Sumner, who identifies as nonbinary. The prospects for a mutilated story were ominous.
2026 has been a year for movies. From “Project Hail Mary” to “ The Odyssey” to Spider-Man’s “Brand New Day,” Hollywood has been pumping out movies that have been well-crafted and well-received.
I sincerely enjoyed most of these movies. Art is a dance of both the familiar and unfamiliar. Adaptations are able to bring us into this dance and continue the conversation by adding novelty to what is known. This is why adaptations work when done well, and Hollywood has clearly figured that out.
And yet unfortunately, several were infused with 2026 worldviews that can sometimes come off preachy and annoying as directors try to take their own spin on a story that has already been recycled several times.
“Unique creative choices” is something I usually find infuriating in adaptations. Are the well-known and beloved words and characters not good enough to stand on their own, right?!
So I sat in my seat, smuggled snacks in hand, expecting the worst and was gratefully surprised. The two hours and 11 minutes of Austenian intrigue and aesthetics were spelled out with shots of delicate spiders in the early morning, trees rustling in the wind and whirling dances that created a beautiful and pleasant experience on the whole. Regrettably, this required the plot to move rather quickly compared to its 1995 counterpart with a similar runtime.
The movie follows two very different sisters: Elinor Dashwood, the ever-practical, sensible and reserved eldest daughter, and the younger sister, Marianne Dashwood, a passionate and wild romantic. Their father dies, leaving them to navigate sudden poverty as their stepbrother gives them only enough to support a cheap rented cottage in the countryside. The girls are no longer desirable matches for marriage in their current financial state and must journey through ghosting, secrets and love in their search for a husband.
It isn’t surprising that this story has been adapted so many times. The tale written in the 1800s by Jane Austen explores very real and relatable human experiences that are very relevant today, despite the change in century and culture.
The book’s battle of rationalism versus romanticism is evident in my own experience as I look out at our culture and see the high pedestal given to feelings that clash with the so-called virtue of stoicism that can permeate some Christian circles.
The sisters present this struggle with their clashing demeanors. Elinor, who is grounded in sense, pursues selflessness and suppression of irrational feeling. She values being right and respectable over looking honestly foolish. Marianne embodies sensibility as she pursues a wild passion and sincerity that does not care whether she is right or wrong.
The conclusion that Jane Austen is making in her novel is that you need both sense and sensibility. In order to achieve their goal of marriage and happiness, each sister learns to be a little bit passionate or a little bit reasonable.
The 2026 adaptation, well, it gave the conclusion one might expect. Individuals determine their own truth.
This movie was refreshing because it was not preaching in the way that many have been; however, it does not draw any conclusions either. Elinor is respected for her choices, and Marianne is given no clear resolution, leaving us with half-finished character arcs. Both sense and sensibility were presented as equally good. Each sister was living her truth. The director was unwilling to commit to one or the other, whereas Jane Austen commits to a balance of the two, more fully showcasing the consequences of extremes.
Maybe this is frustrating because rationalism versus romanticism is a daily internal battle, and I wanted an answer.
Maybe it’s because I believe in ultimate truths in storytelling and in life.
Or maybe because the original story does give an answer, but the adaptation was careful not to offend.
“If I have a passion, it is a passion of distaste for insincerity,” Colonel Brandon said in response to Marianne’s pointed questions.
Oh Hollywood, how ironic you are!
Perhaps one day you will see that the “unique take” on a good old story can turn into something entirely different and not nearly as good.
Perhaps if you changed the title, one might even say you are original.
Perhaps one day I will not fear the newest adaptation to come to theaters. Until then, I suppose I must content myself with the beautiful originals and cinema’s aesthetic renditions.
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