Emma
adapted for television by Andrew Davies, with Kate Beckinsale as Emma and Mark Strong as Mr Knightley.
Emma
adapted for film by Douglas McGrath, with Gwynneth Paltrow as Emma and Jeremy Northam as Mr Knightley.
It must have annoyed the two sets of film makers when they discovered they would be in competition, but the release of two versions of Jane Austen's Emma (1816) in 1996 could only be of great interest to viewers. Matters become even more complicated if we include Amy Heckerling's movie Clueless (1995) in the mix. It's a funny, lively adaptation of Austen's novel set in a California high school, and featuring Alicia Silverstone as Cher, a perfect modern analogy for Emma Woodhouse ("handsome, clever, rich").
This comparison of two "Emmas" touches only on a few points. I don't want to say that one is better than the other (though I know what my personal preference is). Both versions have delights and shortcomings, and both have excellent casts. The film is more glossy and romantic, the TV version more prosaic and more concerned with evoking a picture of the world Emma lives in.
Let's begin by looking at the opening sequences of each version. Here's Jane Austen's opening:
"Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her. . .
The real evils indeed of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her."
There's a gentle irony in this view of Emma. She is described as Emma might describe herself, but Jane Austen clearly warns us that Emma's complacent view of her own powers is not always accurate. The novel is brilliant - witty and very funny, as Emma botches one attempt after another to marry off her acquaintances. Such is Jane Austen's skill that, along with Mr Knightley, we can't help loving Emma even while we are shaking our heads over her foolishness.
Jane Austen didn't need to explain Emma's social milieu and the constraints of her life. It would have been apparent to all her contemporaries, though it is harder for us to come to terms with. Even though Emma lives only sixteen miles from London, she rarely (if ever) ventures out of the village of Highbury and her father's orbit. Her view of the world is constrained by her situation. Here is a lively and intelligent young woman with nothing much to occupy her mind, and ripe for mischief.
Douglas McGrath's film provides a perfect opening image to express these constraints and Emma's position in her little world. The opening shot appears at first to be of the heavens, with stars twinkling in the sky, and the earth spinning busily on its axis. As the picture gains more definition, it becomes apparent that the twinkling stars are tinsel, and the globe is a painted ball, spinning on a tree branch. The camera closes in to show us a drawing of the south of England on the ball, and then closer still to charming miniatures of Highbury, Donwell Abbey and some of the principal characters who inhabit this world. Then the globe is really put into perspective. It is plucked from the tree, and dangles in the hand of Emma Woodhouse, while a woman's voice sets the scene:
"In a time when one's town was one's world and the actions at a dance excited greater interest than the movement of armies, there lived a young woman who knew how this world should be run."
Emma (Gwyneth Paltrow) then speaks the first line as she hands this delicate miniature world to the new Mrs Weston (Greta Scacchi), her beloved former governess:
EMMA: "The most beautiful thing in the world is a match well made! And a happy marriage to you both."
This is an excellent start, which really puts the story to follow in context.
Compare the opening of Andrew Davies' version, as the published screenplay describes it:
Fade in. Exterior. Hartfield. Night.
Shadowy figures, three or four of them, running across the grass. We can see the silhouette of the house in the background, but the thieves are making for the chicken coups. Crash! and the splintering of wood as they break in the door. Now all the chickens are squawking and flying around - the chicken thieves grabbing them, feathers flying everywhere. Now they're off and running fast, back the way they came, chickens squawking. We hear a bucolic hoarse voice:
HEAD GARDENER: Ho! Ho there! Stop thief!
Bang! as he lets fly a shot. Cut to:
Interior. Emma's bedroom.
Emma awakes with a start, and goes to the window in her nightie.
The scene then shifts into the preparations for Mrs Weston's marriage, with Emma (Kate Beckinsale) soothing her father's misery at losing Miss Taylor.
Obviously, this screenplay is trying a very different means of setting up Emma's world, by putting it into a context which incorporates the poor folk and their hardships as well as the rich and indolent.
These very different openings provide the keynote to the different approach the two versions of Emma will consistently take. McGrath's version focuses tightly on Emma's world, where even the family servants are largely invisible, and the villagers are just decorative background to the street scenes. Davies, by contrast, seizes every opportunity to remind us that the life style of the wealthy has consequences for others, and doesn't just happen by magic. The best example of this is the picnic trip to Box Hill. While Emma, Jane Fairfax, Harriet, the Westons, Miss Bates, Mr Knightley and Frank Churchill concentrate on having a good time, we are shown the flock of servants struggling up the hill carrying the means for all this jollity - a table, vast quantities of food, blankets - all the picnic paraphernalia.
The two Emmas are both charming, in their own style. Gwyneth Paltrow is lovely, with her elfin looks, high piled (and perfectly coiffed) blonde hair and exquisite floaty muslin frocks. She gives us an Emma who is sweet and intelligent and determined to have her own way, though suitably chastened by Mr Knightley's reproofs. Clearly the camera is in love with her - she gets many more long and lingering close ups than any other character, and she is in virtually every scene. My one quibble is her carefully-acquired refined English accent. It is perfect, and that is the trouble. It is just too careful, too measured, and at times becomes almost boring, so hard is she working to show us she can be English with the best of them. Kate Beckinsale is dark haired and lovely, putting her focus more into her intellect than her beauty. Her hair is more casually arranged, and she wears a series of smart non-clinging frocks and interesting hats - a more fashionable but less dreamy and romantic look than Paltrow is given. Even though this Emma seems more practical on the surface, Davies gives her a number of fantasy sequences, in which she plays out her schemes, and sometimes sees things she really would prefer not to, such as a union between Knightley and Harriet Smith. Although Kate Beckinsale has a slight winning edge for me as Emma, there isn't a great deal in it, and both performances are delightful.
The two Mr Knightleys are presented in a very different light. Jane Austen introduces him in misleading prosaic fashion:
"Mr Knightley, a sensible man about seven or eight and thirty, was not only a very old and intimate friend of the the family, but particularly connected with it as the older brother of Isabella's husband. He lived about a mile from Highbury, was a frequent visitor and always welcome. . . Mr Knightley had a cheerful manner which always did him good."
No doubt this is Emma's comfortable view of him as the novel starts. Jane Austen is teasing us by setting him up as a most unlikely candidate for romantic hero. He sounds more like a companion for her father than for her - pleasant but unexciting. Of course, as the novel progresses, we learn to love and appreciate Mr Knightley, as Emma herself belatedly does, when he finally is admitted as her "knight". He is by turns straightforward and complex. He gets outrageously jealous over Emma's apparent interest in Frank Churchill, and only then begins to realise that he is in danger of losing Emma, and what that means to him. He is a responsible, hard working landowner, who takes care of his tenants. This is shown, for example, in his interest in Robert Martin's desire to marry Harriet Smith.
As we might expect, the two versions set up rival romantic and prosaic (but ultimately satisfying) views of the hero. Douglas McGrath casts Jeremy Northam as his Knightley, who is tall, slim, dark and handsome (if you like the pouty-lipped, sure-of-himself type). This Knightley exists only in relation to Emma and her world. He apparently is a gentleman of leisure, with no business matters to occupy him, no servants requiring his attention. Everything is done by magic. McGrath writes a new scene in which Emma and Knightley practice archery on an idyllic summer day, whilst bickering and vying for status. He is given dry, throw-away lines that hark back to Cary Grant's brand of wealthy playboy heroes: "Try not to kill my dogs". I have to wonder whether McGrath was influenced just a little here by the screenplay for the 1940 movie version of Pride and Prejudice. The screenplay by Aldous Huxley and Jane Murfin features a scene they invented in which Darcy (Laurence Olivier) and Lizzy (Greer Garson) quarrel and start to fancy each other whilst shooting at archery targets. When Paltrow and Northam settle down for afternoon tea after their exertions, there is no sign of how it got there. Northam makes his feelings for Emma clear to the viewer from about the middle of the film - he is there to play the romantic lead, after all, so he needs to stake his claim to the title. It is no surprise to us when he reveals his feelings at last, and he and Emma have their first kiss in a meadow under a beautiful picture-book tree.
The Davies version casts Mark Strong as Mr Knightley. He too is tall and dark, and arguably handsome, though his good looks are less immediately apparent, and certainly less overtly romantic than Northam's. Mark Strong, to my mind, is much closer to Jane Austen's Knightley. Where Northam plays for charm, Strong plays for honesty and integrity. You can see his thought processes as he is by turns infuriated and delighted by Emma. His love and friendship are strongly built throughout the performance. There is a lovely scene in which Knightley stands apart with Emma while they take turns at holding a baby who is nephew to both of them (the child of her sister and his brother). During this short scene, they reconcile, having been angry with one another, and we get a glimpse of what a perfect married couple they would make, if only either of them recognised it. This Knightley is set firmly in his own world, in which he conducts business, runs his estate, and cares for his tenants. Our first glimpse of him makes the distinction clearly between this and McGrath's Knightley. As in Jane Austen's novel, both versions introduce Knightley when he comes to pay a call on the Woodhouses on the evening after the Weston marriage. Northam is introduced framed charmingly in a window, and chirpily asking about the wedding, and who cried most. Mark Strong is first seen just before he enters the room, giving his coat to a servant and chatting with him as a human being - he even calls the servant by name, which shows he is a considerate and attentive man.
The two unifying-of-couples scenes that wrap up the story also show this different approach. Paltrow and Northam, both looking gorgeous, are married off in style, and kiss romantically to round off the story. Beckinsale and Strong don't get a wedding, they just get an engagement celebration combined with harvest festival. They give each other loving looks, but the focus of the scene is on a much wider harmony and celebration in the community. Again, Knightley is seen in his element, as the good master caring for his people. And at the same time, he is a good man, prepared to lower his status in order to marry Emma. This to me is one of his most endearing traits as a a character. When it becomes clear that Emma cannot abandon her father to get married, Knightley offers to live at Hartfield rather than insisting his bride come to her husband's home, Donwell Abbey, as would normally be expected of the female partner. The anguished look exchanged between Mark Strong and Kate Beckinsale when Mr Woodhouse innocently suggests that they might all quite comfortably go on just as they are now speaks volumes about their feelings for each other.
Both versions lavish loving attention to detail of setting, period and costume. As with Andrew Davies' outstanding version of Pride and Prejudice(1995), dancing is featured prominently in both versions. One disconcerting moment occurs in the film version during the party at the Crown Inn. Knightley and Emma dance to the familiar strains of "Mr Beverage's Maggot", and it is odd to see them carrying out the same steps that counterpoint the debate/argument between Darcy and Lizzy at the Netherfield ball. This version is more up tempo and sinuous than the one used in Pride and Prejudice, with Northam and Paltrow gliding and weaving and demonstrating what a perfectly matched couple they are. Though for my taste, the performance is just too glitzy and 'choreographed', and doesn't seem at all natural - is it likely that Mr Knightley, who only dances when he must, would choose to dance quite like this? The TV version seems to linger more on the dances, displaying with pride this skill acquired by the actors. It ends with a dance at the Harvest festival, in which all the happy couples are brought together in a symbolic union. Dignified and restrained and charming - though not, of course, wildly romantic. Both versions of necessity also feature singing - notably in the scene at Randalls, the Westons' home, when Frank Churchill sings first with Emma and then with Jane Fairfax. Both productions made different choices of music, and both I find delightful. Clearly Gwyneth Paltrow & Ewan McGregor (film) and Kate Beckinsale & Raymond Coulthard (TV) did their own singing, which is pleasing if unpolished, but it is more likely that both Jane Fairfaxes (Polly Walker & Olivia Williams) were dubbed, since Jane is required to be a first class singer and pianist. Oddly enough, in both cases, it tends to be the untrained voices that charm the most.
Casting choices are very strong in both versions. Apart from the two leads, the movie features a strong line up of star players, with Toni Colette as Harriet, Ewan McGregor (currently very hot in Hollywood) as Frank Churchill, Alan Cumming as Mr Elton, Greta Scacchi as Mrs Weston, and the wonderful Juliet Stephenson as Mrs Elton. The TV version casts reliable stage and TV performers, with Lucy Robinson (Mrs Hurst in Davies' Pride and Prejudice) as Mrs Elton with a very strange and increasingly annoying accent. Apparently, it is intended to be a Bristol regional accent, but it sounds very American, and in any case, a snob like Mrs Elton would surely strive to rid her vowel sounds of any taint of regionality. Toni Colette is a big and buxom Harriet, who certainly provides a contrast to delicate lady Emma, but resembles more a clumsy milkmaid than a lost little nervous waif. She is played for broad comedy, as in the scene where she is armed with a butterfly net and galumphing about after butterflies. Although Colette is a charming and interesting performer, it is harder to accept that she would be so totally under Emma's thumb, or indeed that she is only a 17 year old girl just out of school. Little blonde Samanatha Morton is a little more convincing in this department, although not as memorable a performer.
The casting of the Bates women in each version works, though logically speaking, the TV version gets it 'right'. Prunella Scales is a marvel as Miss Bates. She brings out all the humanity of this poor little woman who talks non stop to anyone who will listen, and who is the object of Emma's unkind sense of humour. This is not to say that I didn't also enjoy the performance of Sophie Thompson in the movie. But she is clearly too young for the role - something even Douglas McGrath admitted in an interview. She also captures the sense of genteel despair under the surface of bright, jolly chat which makes this character such a rewarding one. Sophie Thompson plays opposite her real-life mother, Phyllida Law, which is a nice touch.
Alan Cumming is terrific as Mr Elton (though Dominic Rowan is also very good indeed) - perhaps Cumming has the edge because he is a strong comic performer. He has something in common with Paltrow and McGregor here - all three are putting on determined English accents. Both the men are in fact Scottish, and you can hear a distinct soft burr in McGregor's voice, though Cumming makes a fairly smooth transition. Poor old Ewan McGregor! He can look sexy with the best of them, but here he is battling with a very strange wardrobe. His suits make him look like a bottled frog, while the wig is appalling - lots of blond flowing locks that do absolutely nothing for him, other than mark a contrast with his shaven-headed Renton in Trainspotting In many ways, I prefer Raymond Coulthard in the role. Mind you, his task is made easier by the fact that the Davies version places much greater emphasis on the Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax sub plot, which gets buried somewhere in the McGrath screenplay. Coulthard is a practised liar and a very smooth operator, with a darkish subtext to his fixation with and manipulation of Jane Fairfax. McGregor is just there to have a jolly good time, and to be a red herring in the romance stakes. Juliet Stevenson is superb as Mrs Elton - she puts all her acting experience to very good effect here, and steals just about every scene she is in.
Well, to sum up, my personal preference is for the TV version, and I have a very strong liking for Mark Strong, whose performance just gets better and better every time you watch the show. It has depth, while Jeremy Northam is all flashy surface. But both versions have their charms, and both make a very nice way to spend a couple of spare hours.
Go to comparison of 2 versions of Pride and Prejudice
Read my commentary on the Netherfield Ball in Pride & Prejudice You are visitor number to this page
© 1997 lisaw@deepsouth.co.nz
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