Again, and again, and again

On Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice (2005) and Lone Scherfig's One Day (2011)

General audience consensus suggests that there are too many film adaptations. Following the recent premiere of Paul King’s “Wonka'', a movie musical that imagines how Wonka came to be the world’s best chocolatier before Charlie ever won the gold ticket, has received backlash for not maintaining the same magic as the earlier films, “rendering anything possible and nothing meaningful” (Brody). Adaptations that stray from the original story to inject a “fresh perspective” are often divisive, such as Lerhman’s art house take on “Romeo and Juliet”, which uses Shakespearean English but portrays the families as mafia gangs wearing Hawaiin shirts. Regardless, these films are often box office successes, as audiences are curious to see what has been changed. It’s logical that this is what causes adaptations to be re-visited, with new filmmakers viewing them as a safe bet for making profit. However, I believe this is due to the longevity of the stories.

Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice premiered 10 years after the hit BBC 6 episode hit series of the same name, starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. In total, Austen’s classic love story and one of the most famous novels to come out of the Romantic period has been adapted over 17 times across the world, including the 2003 American retelling of the same name set in modern-day Utah; the Bollywood hit “Bride and Prejudice”; and the bizarre “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies'', based on a 2016 book which imagined Elizabeth Bennett as a zombie-slayer. Off-screen, the story has been reimagined in novel form, such as Curtis Sittenfield’s hit “Eligible” which adjusts the sister’s ages to what modern audiences would consider late to be unmarried (around the 40 mark instead of 20). Interestingly, Wright explained in an interview, “There hadn’t been a film version of “Pride and Prejudice” for about 65 years. So it felt like it was time to be made again” (Wright). There is a trend of this with classic literature, as 2019’s “The Personal History of David Copperfield '' was the first on-screen adaptation for 19 years. Audiences have a sense that classic adaptations are inevitable, bound to come round again.

In my opinion, Wright’s version is the most true to the original novel. This is ironic, given he hadn’t read the novel in school like most British teenagers, but instead as an adult, and was so moved by it he had to make the film, calling it the first piece of “British realism” (Wright). It captures the gloom and grittiness of Austen’s style of writing, including many lingering landscape shots that mirror the descriptions of the bleak English countryside in winter. This was intentional by Wright, as he describes, “I wanted a sense of the elements, of mud and rain. It occurred to me that love is an elemental force, and I wanted to set it in the context of the other elements” (Wright). The passing of time is crucial to the novel, as there is a gap of around a year between Elizabeth and Darcy meeting and their love confession. Wright creates this through the outside world, as at times the dialogue or even actors are sparse, and we as the audience are forced to consider the seasons changing. In doing so, we get a greater sense of Elizabeth’s heart thawing out, and Darcy’s haughty air lowering.

A scene that stood out to me for atmospheric creation was Elizabeth twirling on a swing in the courtyard of the Bennett house, surrounded by pigs and manure. In the scene prior, there is the dark, dramatic showdown between her and Mr Darcy, as she brutally rejects his love advances due to his meddling with Jane and Bingley’s romance. The shots from “her perspective” as the world spins reflect the loudness of her mind, unable to sit still as her thoughts race about Darcy, her family, and her position in society. Eventually, she spots her friend Charlotte, and the setting of a dirty farmyard with rain threatening works well for their strained conversation about Charlotte accepting Mr Collins's proposal. Everyone can relate to a scenario of disconnect between loved ones, of being trapped and unable to see a way out. Wright sophisticatedly uses the exterior to reflect the inferior, the onomatopoeia communicating the state of Lizzie’s mind, just like her muddied dress hem.

Alternatively, Nicholl’s “One Day” has only been seen on the big screen once before, as the Drama Republic TV series is set to premiere in a month. The 8-episode mini series stars Ambika Modd and Leo Woodall as the couple in question, meeting on the night of their graduation and spending the next 20 years trying to figure out what they mean to each other. From the trailer of the new series, it appears to be very “Netflix”: high-budget, amazing locations, and bright colours that contrast with the character’s realities. The 2011 film version does not use this approach. Nicholls said of it “I think we haven’t made the glossy version, the characters don’t all live in wonderful penthouse pads” (Nicholls). The series seems to be more modern, with younger and more diverse actors playing the characters of Emma and Dex. There is merit to this, but it doesn’t feel like we’re watching an adaptation of a book written through letters.

However, Schefig’s adaptation does the same as Wright’s in that it captures the essence of the book entirely, down to the fine details. Nicholls co-wrote the screenplay, in a rare example of the writers adapting their own work for the screen. Austen, of course, didn’t do this, and the 2006 screenplay was written by Deborah Moggach. But both films feel like watching the novel be lived out in front of us, and that makes them all the more powerful - they are designed to reflect what we imagine when reading the books. Many could argue that this makes the film not worth watching, that there was no point to their creation to begin with. But what Schefig does so successfully in “One Day” is create the sense that life has left these characters high and dry. By using techniques such as a blue tint and diegetic music, Schelig reflects the shift in the character’s optimism as they reunite once a year: Emma’s dreams to be an author have taken a back seat to her career as a manager at a Tex Mex chain, living with a man she does not feel passionately about, while Dexter’s career as a failing TV presenter causes him to fall into a hole of drugs, vacuous friends and a loveless marriage.

The story is not plot-heavy, and it may come as a surprise that it’s being returned to in the 2020s. I believe this is because adapting a love story that works beyond conventional parameters is worth revisiting time and time again. In “Pride and Prejudice” and “One Day”, the honest, heartfelt depictions of love transcend a particular period or location, and the message within them - to love despite all the reasons not to - will always resonate with audiences.

Bibliography

Brody, Richard. “The Empty Magic of ‘Wonka.’” The New Yorker, 11 Dec. 2023, www.newyorker.com/culture/the-front-row/the-empty-magic-of-wonka.

Abeel, Erica. “Tackling a Classic: Joe Wright on ‘Pride and Prejudice.’” IndieWire, IndieWire, 10 Nov. 2005, www.indiewire.com/features/general/tackling-a-classic-joe-wright-on-pride-and-prejudice-77678/.

Mellor, Louisa. “One Day: An Interview with Writer David Nicholls.” Den of Geek, 25 Aug. 2011, www.denofgeek.com/movies/one-day-an-interview-with-writer-david-nicholls/.