“I require so much!” Marianne declares to her mother, referring to the kind of man she deems worthy of her romantic love. As a Jane Austen fan, I also require much of her film adaptation.

The 1995 Ang Lee’s film, adapted to the screen by Emma Thompson, is my all-time favorite movie that I’ve seen countless times. It raises the bar high for Regency romance films, and while this Georgia Oakley version falls short of that standard, it’s still a worthy Austen adaptation. After the screening, I spoke with several Austen enthusiasts, including my friend Vince from FlixChatter, and we all felt that the 1995 film and the 2008 miniseries adapted by Andrew Davies remain the best versions. They mentioned rewatching the earlier adaptations right after this screening. I know the 1995 version so well I can recall it easily, yet I still found myself watching clips from it again. While I won’t do a detailed scene-by-scene comparison, I will touch on elements like visual style, actor choices, and overall execution in my review.

Let’s start with how the film looks. The trailer shows something I noticed immediately: the Dashwood sisters live in a simple, natural world. Unlike Ang Lee’s version with its warm, bright colors, this English landscape is thick with greenery, dark, and cloudy. Cinematographer Arnaud Potier used mostly natural light and shot on 35mm film, creating a dark, genuine feel that makes you believe you’re in 19th-century England.

We first see Marianne lying in the woods, waiting for a carriage carrying her dead father’s will. She runs back to the family’s big house at Norland Park to show everyone the will, and everything changes. Austen’s story shows what life was like for women in the Regency period—they couldn’t earn a living, so they had to depend on their husbands. In the case of Mrs. Dashwood (Caitriona Balfe), she suffers even more as the second wife with all daughters, as her husband’s fortune falls to her stepson, John Dashwood (Tom Brooke).

Anyone who has watched at least one Sense and Sensibility adaptation knows that Fanny Dashwood, John’s awful and greedy wife, is a key character. I really miss Harriet Walter’s version of Fanny, whose unpleasant countenance and mean expression made you instantly dislike her. Stacy Martin does a decent job as Fanny, but she plays her as more snobbish and vengeful, not quite the scheming, manipulative, and truly mean character she should be.

The cast is noticeably younger overall. Elinor and Marianne are meant to be 19 and 17 years old. Even though Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles were already in their mid-20s during filming, they look young for their age. George MacKay is 34, which is close to how the book shows Edward being a few years older than Elinor. Bodhi Rae Breathnach plays Margaret, the youngest Dashwood sister, as a lively, outdoorsy girl who has to grow up fast as her family faces economic hardship.

The cast of the ’95 version definitely skewed older—the then 35-year-old Emma Thompson looked noticeably too old as Elinor, the same with 48-year-old Alan Rickman as 35-year-old Col. Brandon. However, their strong performances made up for this age difference, particularly Rickman’s performance. His calm elegance and romantic melancholy make him the gold standard for period drama heroes. He played the role with restraint and composure while expressing deep emotional pain from his past. Plus, who could forget his distinctive voice? Norwegian actor Herbert Nordrum does well in the role, but he can’t hold a candle to Rickman, partly because the connection between Brandon and Marianne feels less compelling.

The casting of Elinor and Edward works well here. Edgar-Jones shows the ‘sense’ in the title through her emotional control, good judgment, and proper behavior. She’s less guarded than Thompson or Hattie Morahan (in the 2008 version), especially when she first meets Edward and appears clearly smitten by him. Overall, she captures Elinor’s character effectively. MacKay improves on Hugh Grant by playing Edward as self-assured and witty rather than bumbling and awkward while keeping his good and honorable qualities. The intense yearning between them feels real, which is essential in any Sense and Sensibility adaptation.

Meanwhile, Creed-Miles plays a wild, passionate rebel who fights against the strict social rules of her time. Her version of Marianne feels raw and untamed, with messy hair that looks like it’s never been brushed. The scene where she cries out Willoughby’s name in the rain is feral and raw, very different from Kate Winslet’s more poetic version where she recites Shakespeare while looking out at his Combe Magna estate. This version of Marianne seems tailor-made for today’s Gen Alpha and Gen Z audiences. While Winslet’s performance is better overall, there’s something mesmerizing about Creed-Miles, though I was quite distracted by how much she resembles actress Samantha Morton. I found out afterwards that Morton was her mother!

Speaking of the offspring of famous British actor Frank Dillane, who plays Willoughby, he is the son of actor Stephen Dillane. I have to say that his casting is one of the weakest aspects of this adaptation. I expected Willoughby to be a refined, dashing gentleman with a roguish twinkle in his eye, but Dillane comes across a bit more like a modern, selfish bad boy. He lacks that dangerous edge and that magnetic charm to make the character even remotely interesting.

I do adore the casting of Fiona Shaw as the caring but oh-so-nosy Mrs. Jennings. Her timing for comedy is spot-on, much like how Elizabeth Spriggs played her in the ’95 version. However, Turlough Convery‘s version of John Middleton feels too much like Jack Black, which pulls me out of the film. Overall, the casting of the ’95 version is masterful all around, as even tertiary characters like grumpy Mr. Palmer and his wife Charlotte (played by Hugh Laurie and Imelda Staunton) are so deeply memorable.

When it comes to direction, I think Oakley far succeeded Carrie Cracknell, who directed Netflix’s ghastly adaptation of Persuasion with Dakota Johnson. We’re spared from characters breaking the fourth wall, talking directly to the audience, and from Anne Elliot being updated so much she’s unrecognizable from the book. I found Oakley’s Indiewire interview where she explained that “…Austen was writing about things that were so inherently contemporary that it didn’t need modernizing.” I’m not a purist, but I agree with her that Austen’s work has a lasting appeal that still connects with today’s viewers. However, the final scene where Elinor reacts to learning Edward isn’t married feels off and out of character. I can’t picture Elinor forgoing decorum entirely and chasing after a man like that.

Screenwriter Diana Reid took some creative liberties from the source material. The most noticeable change is a conversation between Brandon and Marianne. In the novel, Brandon tells Elinor, “To your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he may endeavor to deserve her.” But in this version, he says it straight to Marianne. I get that the filmmakers wanted more face-to-face scenes between Brandon and Marianne, but this approach doesn’t quite work.

I do like the earthy visuals and Oakley’s focus on nature. The world feels less pristine than previous adaptations, and the production design by Francesca Di Mottola really shows the family’s difficult situation through the sets. The family moves from the opulent Norland Park to the damp, run-down Barton Cottage, and Oakley shows them doing everyday tasks like cleaning, tending livestock, and cooking. There are even funny moments about Mrs. Dashwood’s lack of cooking skills. The somber realism and wild nature scenes—windy fields, heavy rain—match the emotional turbulence the characters go through.

It’s interesting to see how she depicts the pistol duel between Brandon and Willoughby, which the Dashwood family watches from the window. We witness Brandon’s passion that finally melts Marianne’s heart. That scene is missing from Ang Lee’s version entirely, but then again, the duel happens off-page in the novel, leaving the fight entirely to the readers’ imagination. This adaptation also shows Willoughby’s drunk ‘apology’ while Marianne is ill, which is maybe the only time we see Elinor truly angry. It’s a touching moment that shows how much Elinor cares for her sister and how badly Willoughby has hurt them both.

Oakley’s film is wonderfully atmospheric and pretty well-paced, and the 2-hour-11-minute runtime goes by pretty fast. The set pieces and costumes are period-appropriate, which helps immerse you in the story. Roger Goula‘s score is lovely to hear while watching, but not quite as catchy as Patrick Doyle’s beautiful and devastating music. I’m dating myself here, but I bought the CD back in the mid-90s and still play it often today.

While the genre is Regency romance, Sense and Sensibility is more about the sisterly bond between Elinor and Marianne, and this film captures that. Overall, I enjoyed this new adaptation, but I don’t think it would become an essential Austen adaptation like the ones on this list. I don’t see myself rewatching this one anytime soon, but watching this film makes me appreciate the 1995 and 2008 versions even more, which I know I’ll watch again and again.

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