Emma (1996, PG)

Adaptation-wise, Emma and Mansfield Park are my odd Austen books out.  With the others, while most have more than one fine adaptation, each book has one that rises to the top as the quintessential version.  On the other hand, I think a definitive version of Mansfield Park has yet to be made, and as for Emma, I think a lot of them are equally great in different ways.  This Hollywood film was the first adaptation I saw, so that does make it stand out.

Emma Woodhouse is wealthy, well-to-do, and well-meaning.  Though she herself is rather blithely single, she doesn’t think it’s something that looks particularly good on other people and sets out to do good by making matches.  When she takes Harriet, her new friend of obscure origins, under her wing, Emma thinks she’s found the perfect man for Harriet, but her good friend Mr. Knightley warns her that she may be meddling in what she doesn’t fully understand.

This is a peppy, frothy adaptation that approaches everything with an arched eyebrow and a bit of a wink.  While it sticks pretty faithfully to the story, it also employs some nice cinematic devices to bring that story to life, like well-timed cuts to short flashbacks for more humorous effect, or the use of Emma and Knightley’s target practice as a visual representation of their argument when they’re talking about Robert Martin.

Another thing Emma has in common with Mansfield Park is that both books have heroines who are a bit tricky.  If Fanny can feel overly timid and doormat-ish, Emma is the opposite; she can be conceited, too reliant on her own rightness, and more than a little snobbish.  As such, it’s important for any adaptation to put her flaws plainly on display but still temper them with her good qualities.  Overall, I think Gwyneth Paltrow does a good job in the role (although her accent is a little flat at times.)  In her performance, we see Emma’s genuine desire to help others go hand-in-hand with her self-congratulation at doing so, and we see how many of her misfires stem from her youth and inexperience.  Paltrow walks a tightrope here, usually staying just on the right side of rootable, if not always likable – sometimes, her bad decisions can make you crazy, but you’re still hoping she gets it right.  Meanwhile, Jeremy Northam is absolutely my number-one Mr. Knightley.  He doesn’t pull punches with Emma, but he doesn’t feel like he’s constantly lecturing her, either.  It really comes across that he has her best interests at heart and only wants her to be the person he knows she can be.  Northam also expertly brings across Knightley’s humor, consideration, and good judge of character.

Plenty of familiar faces here.  Alan Cumming is a stitch as Mr. Elton, Toni Collette makes a sweet Harriet (although I think the writing makes her a little too dim,) Phyllida Law is a fine Mrs. Bates without saying a word, Juliet Stevenson kills it as the odious Mrs. Elton, Ewan McGregor feels somewhat miscast as Frank Churchill, and Polly Walker (Anne from State of Play) does well capturing Jane Fairfax.  Additionally, Greta Scacchi hits all the right notes as Mrs. Weston, and Sophie Thompson is perfection as Miss Bates.

Warnings

A little drinking.

Relationship Spotlight: Emma Woodhouse & George Knightley (Emma)

How do you like that – this is the third of seven major Jane Austen romances I’ve reviewed, and I’ve yet to get around to Lizzie and Darcy.  That just speaks to how many fantastic relationships she cultivated in her works, and Emma/Knightley is one I’ve always appreciated.  Not as fun as Catherine/Tilney or as searing as Anne/Wentworth, perhaps, but of all of Austen’s pairings, these may be the two who do one another the most good.

I really like how often Austen’s romances show the characters as friends before they’re lovers.  Emma and Knightley are a particularly great example – their families have been close since before Emma was born, and Knightley has always been a fixture in her life as a friend and neighbor.  There’s attraction, of course – buried so deep that neither is aware of it for most of the book – but more than that, there’s a sense of companionship, of familiarity.  These are two people who can speak the absolute truth with one another.

Not that Emma is always crazy about that.  She spends a good portion of the story as a doted-upon, well-meaning but misguided young woman, and there aren’t many who can recognize her faults like Knightley.  She resents his chiding on the grounds that he doesn’t pay enough attention to important things like position and perception, but she values his opinion more than she can say:  Knightley’s words can get under her skin like no one else’s, can prick at her conscious and make her realize how shallow or foolish or insensitive she’s been.  For Knightley’s part, Emma challenges him, and it’s more than just her stubbornness or pride propelling her.  More than once, she opens his eyes to something he’d dismissed or failed to recognize, and he’s a better person for it.

This facet of their relationship is good for them both, but especially for Emma.  She’s spent much of her life being the little lady of the house, and she’s both used to flattery and unused to being denied.  Essentially, she’s been raised to think the sun rises and sets by her flashes of brilliance, and though she’s a bright woman well positioned to do good in her community, this indulgence threatens to spoil her.  With Knightley there to remind her she’s as fallible as anyone, she can mature and learn to be her best self.

It’s a little thing, but I also love the way Knightly demonstrates so much care toward Emma’s father, a fussbudget hypochondriac whom she clearly adores.  Unlike many in town, who desire Mr. Woodhouse’s society but fail to consider his delicacies or try to accommodate him, Knightley seeks to put him at ease in potentially stressful situations.  He regularly visits, knowing Mr. Woodhouse enjoys company but rarely ventures out, and when an excursion is held at Knightley’s estate, he prepares a selection of knickknacks and curiosities to occupy Mr. Woodhouse while the others are out, all from the comfort of Knightley’s finest chair.  That scene, to me, tells so much about Knightley, and it’s obvious that Emma could never be with a man who doesn’t regard her father like she does.  It’s funny; maybe it’s just my aceness talking, but stuff like that makes me root for a relationship much faster than heat or chemistry.  They can making longing eyes at one another as long as they want, but if they connect on a personal level and cherish the same loved ones, values, or even hobbies?  I am all over that.