So S finally made good on his promise to see Pride and Prejudice with me by taking me to see it tonight. (It wasn't so painful a prospect after a male co-worker told him that it was very good.) It, in fact, was very good, but I am a big freaking idiot, and here is why: for over half of the movie, I kept thinking, "Gee, this story seems very familiar. Oh! I remember this storyline. Wait a minute...." The thing is, (and please do not yell at me), I have not read Pride and Prejudice (but I have read other Jane Austen books, so there). I kept thinking about P&P's correspondence to Bridget Jones, but it became clear that I knew every single little nuance of the story, and that Bridget Jones is just not that faithful. (It is, actually, far easier to deduce the plot of Emma from Clueless.) Somewhere around the point when Elizabeth Bennet learns of Mr. Wickham's evil nature and cruel seduction of Mr. Darcy's sister, I remember that I had watched "Bride and Prejudice" which is strange Bollywood retelling of the very same story. It was one of those hand-slaps-head moment.
Regardless, once I figured that out that nagging question, I was actually able to pay attention to how good the film was. I don't love Keira Knightley, though she was very good in this; I think that Matthew McFayden stole the movie as Mr. Darcy. He was adorable and dashing and perfect in the role (I will probably check out Colin Firth's performance as the same in the earlier BBC production, just to see. I love love love Colin Firth). And my second favorite person in the film was, hands down, Rosamund Pike. After the movie ended, S said he thought she was a Bond girl of some sort, and he was right. It's not surprising, because she is stunningly beautiful. It's very hard to look away when she is on the screen. She hasn't been in much, which is a shame.
My only complaint with the film was the end, which just didn't fit with the rest of the movie (as well it shouldn't, being a contrivance added on by Hollywood). You're just not familiar enough with the characters to see them acting that way. It's more like you're a visitor to their world, and I felt like I was intruding on a private moment. If that makes any sense. Also, it felt very un-Austen-like. At least it was only the last minute and a half of the movie; it wasn't ruined in any sense of the word.
(Now, I only hope that Memoirs of a Geisha is a little good. I fear I may build it up too greatly, because I love the book so damn much. It can never be as good, therefore, I am bound to be disappointed. I'm trying to go in with an open mind.)
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