Anna Karenina

Last weekend I went to see Anna Karenina, the latest film from director Joe Wright and his "muse," Keira Knightley. I've never read the novel (though I started it this week, and am a whole 7% into this massive tome!), and my only experience with the story were long-ago and barely-remembered viewings of the "classic" versions starring Greta Garbo and Vivien Leigh. With that scant background knowledge, I went into the film expecting to enjoy it based solely on Wright's direction and stars Knightley and Jude Law -- but more than simply liking it, I absolutely fell in love with world of the film, thoroughly swept up in its tragedy and unexpected heart, and yes -- its hope.

In bringing Leo Tolstoy's massive, nearly 1,000 page tome to life, Joe Wright made the unusual -- and some would say, risky -- decision to film the entire story as a stage play. I wasn't sure how this would work and if visually the movie could pull it off. But from the opening scenes I simply abandoned myself to the conceit and lost myself completely within the film's glorious evocation of late nineteenth-century Russia.

I've always been fascinated by the history of Imperial Russia and subsequent revolution that brought an end to the glittering world of the tsars, so much so that I indulged in an entire semester on the subject in college, which remains one of my fondest educational memories. (And admittedly makes it all the weirder that I never tried to tackle a Tolstoy novel!) In this world, the aristocrats were arguably the celebrities of their day -- and as Anna is a highly-public member of that class, married to the well-respected statesman Count Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin, she is a woman who for good or ill lives under the laser-like scrutiny social celebrity. Thus, filming her story as a play elevates the audience into the role of her observer along with every on-screen counterpart she meets. It isn't breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience directly, but to my mind it comes close, enveloping the audience immediately within the world of the film.

The scene transitions are seamlessly done, giving the film the feel of a fluid, rushing river -- probably a most apt comparison, when one considers the dizzying speed of events that Anna finds herself caught up in, propelling her to her ultimate downfall. (Trains are used in a similar respect, suggesting the idea of an individual on a journey leading to a destination they are powerless -- or think they are -- to stop, an outcome they feel -- or choose to accept -- is inevitable, no matter how disastrous the result. Interestingly enough, the week before I watched this film I saw Harriet Craig starring Joan Crawford for the first time. In that film, Crawford's character makes a similar comment about disliking trains because the method of travel makes her  feel "out of control," when in actuality in both cases Crawford an Anna conveniently forget they chose to take their respective journeys...)

The effect of the scene transitions is that the film maintains a sense of tension throughout, a rapid pacing that in my view lends itself brilliantly to the condensing of a 900-plus page novel. While Anna and her compatriots are set up and move on stage like so many glittering jewels, the transition scenes reveal a wholly different side to the story. Those "backstage" moments reveal the peasant side of Russian society, the filth, poverty, and struggle that make up the existence of the "have-nots" -- a marked dichotomy when considering Anna's privileged existence, and a harbinger of the revolution to come.

While Knightley skyrocketed to fame and widespread recognition with the first Pirates of the Caribbean film and Love Actually in 2003, I vastly prefer her turns in literature-inspired costume dramas. Anna Karenina is actually her second turn tackling an iconic fictional character from Russian literature -- her first being Lara in the 2002 Masterpiece adaptation of Doctor Zhivago (which I adore simply on its film-making merits, it is another book I've yet to read). And then there are her turns in Wright's Pride & Prejudice and Atonement, both of which set the groundwork for this their perhaps most visually stunning, ambitious collaboration to date. As Anna, I thought Knightley was pitch-perfect, making the transition from dutiful if quietly restless wife to mistress and social outcast heart-rending and believable. While Anna certainly goes to her doom with her eyes wide open, that does nothing to lessen the tragedy of her choices -- her willful rejection of the security of home, marriage, and son in order to temporarily satiate the lusts of the flesh.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson plays Count Vronsky, the dashing cavalry officer whose chance encounter with Anna when when goes to meet his mother at the train (played by the inimitable Olivia Williams) launches a dangerously obsessive love affair that threatens to destroy not only their reputations but the lives of everyone it touches. Now I realize this is just a personal preference thing, but I don't see the attraction of Johnson over the likes of Law (receding hairline included!) at all. That said, he does manage to bring a youthful energy (and dare I say petulance?) to the role of Vronsky, a selfishness in his pursuit of Anna that fits the role well.

Jude Law was perfectly cast as Anna's older, politically-minded husband Alexei Karenin. I'm used to seeing him in roles that play off his personable, empathetic demeanor (i.e., Dr. Watson in Sherlock Holmes, the father in Hugo, etc.). Between the make-up and his almost brittle, excessively proper mien, his Alexei was a bit of a shock. He is the very antithesis of Anna's warmth and vibrant personality. The brilliance of Law's performance is in the subtle layers he gives Karenin -- it isn't that he is wholly callous or clueless regarding Anna; rather, he doesn't know how to be emotional, how to exhibit the depth of his feelings until his family stands on the brink of implosion.

I am in no way attempting to excuse Anna's affair -- her relationship with Vronsky is lust, pure and simple -- there is nothing of lasting, meaningful love in their "relationship." But Karenin didn't help -- didn't attempt to meet Anna halfway until she'd sadly crossed the point of no return. A large part of that is certainly the social accepted roles of the sexes in the 19th century, but that aside I'm convinced that no matter the century, one thing about a successful marriage hasn't changed -- it's a two-way street that requires effort on both sides.

Interestingly enough Anna Karenina gives us three romantic relationships to compare -- Anna and Alexei/Vronsky, her brother Oblonsky (Matthew Macfadyen) and his wife Dolly (Kelly Macdonald), and Konstantin Levin (Domhall Gleeson) and Kitty, Dolly's younger sister (Alicia Vikander - she can also be seen this fall in the Danish film A Royal Affair). Before we can take the measure of Anna's marriage, the film introduces us to the turmoil upsetting Oblonsky and Dolly's relationship. Oblonsky is an inveterate skirt-chaser, recently outed for an affair with his children's governess to the chagrin and embarrassment of his wife. Dolly, in giving her husband a home and children has lost the "bloom" of her youth -- or so that is Oblonsky's excuse. Anna has been summoned to "heal the breach" and convince Dolly to forgive her husband for the sake of their family. Anna succeeds -- and later in the film, while it is implied at the least that Oblonsky hasn't reformed, Dolly seems to have maintained a measure of peace in staying with her husband and loving him in spite of himself.

Macfadyen's Oblonsky was a comic revelation. With his ridiculous moustache, pseudo-pompadour-styled hair, and unflaggingly cheerful good humor (never mind that he is responsible for the problems in his personal life!), Oblonsky is QUITE the departure from Macfadyen's reputation has a romantic lead (Arthur Clennam in Little Dorrit, Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice, etc.). One couldn't imagine a more unlikely on-screen reunion for Knightley and Macfadyen, the couple responsible for putting their own unforgettable spin on Austen's famously sparring lovers. His long-suffering and put-upon wife is played by Kelly Macdonald, most recently the voice of Merida in Disney/Pixar's Brave. I just love her -- she always seems to have such a compassionate and kind on-screen demeanor, which is a perfect fit for Dolly, particularly in the tea room scene late in the film where she shows Anna the kindness of speaking to her in public.

Contrast the uneasy truce formed by Oblonsky and Dolly with Karenin and Anna as her affair becomes grist for the gossip mill. Once Anna chooses a passionate affair with Vronsky over her marriage and family commitments, she begins a long downward spiral into mental and emotional disintegration that is simply gut-wrenching to watch. The heady, early days of her not-so-secret "romance" with the officer comes into the harsh light of day when, unable to contain her emotions at the races (fabulously staged by the way) blurts out her feelings for the wrong Alexei in the most public way imaginable. Initially Karenin demands she honor her vows and maintain the status quo, finally driven to seek divorce. But when Anna gives birth to Vronsky's daughter and contracts a fever, begging for his forgiveness on her deathbed -- he finds himself moved to grant it. And that forgiveness looses something within him, freeing him from a desire for revenge or autocratic control, freeing him to take the first tentative steps towards expressing some feeling, some depth of the emotion that he possesses for his wife and family.

But while Karenin (Law is brilliant here) takes the first steps towards reclaiming his life from the poison of bitterness, Anna lives -- and she outright rejects facing life without her "grand passion." So Alexei lets her go, and cut adrift from the security of her marriage and family, commitments her husband would have gladly honored, she flounders, becoming increasingly possessive of Vronsky's time and attention. For in rejecting her vows, in embracing her feelings of the moment, she is left without any security. And this is where the staging of this film is so brilliant. When she decides to attend the opera with her friend Princess Myagkaya (hello Lady Mary -- I mean Michelle Dockery), she becomes the focus of society's scorn. The fluidity of the sets, the ability to change focus on a dime, is a stark and tragic reminder of the fact that Anna is an acceptable target for foolishly letting her sins become public knowledge -- when really but for the grace of God any audience member (within and without the confines of the film) could just as easily be the next target for their own missteps. That opera scene is to me perhaps the greatest tragedy of this story -- having rejected her husband's offer of a second chance, the increasingly unstable Anna still finds no grace or mercy with the public. Whether or not she would've accepted such, if offered, is of course open for debate -- but that lack of compassion was a convicting moment that broke my heart.

Thankfully Tolstoy doesn't leave his audience without the hope of redemption when it comes to relationships. The relationship between Levin and Kitty is a glorious realization of the possibilities of love, real, sacrificial, life-changing love and commitment. Levin is the complete antithesis of his old friend Oblonsky -- a shy, somewhat awkward young man, he prefers a simple life in the country, working the land, to the delights of city life. Passionately in love with Dolly's younger sister Kitty, he's returned to the city to press his suit, only to discover that in his absence a rival has arisen -- the dashing Vronsky. The youthful, romantic Kitty, sure of Vronsky's affections, turns down Levin's awkward proposal -- sending a heartbroken Levin back to nurse his wounds at his country home. Kitty's youthful, idealistic passion for Levin is subsequently crushed when Vronsky's obsession for Anna leaves her in the dust, humiliated and embarrassed.

Though I'm not yet 10% into the novel, the first few chapters offer some fascinating additional insight into Levin's personality and background, characteristics only hinted at thanks to the constrictions of the film's script and running time. But despite the compression of his story, Gleeson has done a fantastic job of bringing Levin's idealism and love for Kitty -- a love that is almost religious in its fervor -- to life on-screen. (Side note: did anyone recognize Gleeson as Bill Weasley?) Levin has set Kitty upon a pedestal as his perfect specimen of womanhood, his only hope of happiness -- a happiness he isn't quite sure he has the power to claim. Her initial refusal of his proposal is a humbling moment for them both, and it is only after this second separation when each has had time to heal and re-evaluate their feelings and desires that they can realize and claim the future they want -- with each other. His second proposal is so romantic. (Levin's impassioned dinner speech at Oblonsky's is simply beautiful -- and heart-breaking when one sees its effect on Karenin, caught in the throes of a broken marriage.)

While I absolutely ADORE Levin's purity of heart, his love for Kitty, and his ideals, he isn't the perfect answer to Vronsky or Oblonsky's predilection for mistaking lust for love. Speaking strictly from an interpretation of the on-screen action, Levin's obsession with purity, his idealism of Kitty, if left unchecked, would be doomed to fail -- because no human could possibly attain that level of perceived perfection. The turning point comes he and Kitty return to his country home following their marriage to discover his impoverished, dying brother Nikolai (David Wilmot), a known radical, and his common-law wife/former prostitute Masha (Tannistha Chatterjee) in residence. While Levin clearly possesses a sense of familial duty for his brother, he's ready to kick him out solely because he doesn't want Nikolai and Masha's presence to pollute his home, to risk offending his "angelic" bride. But to Levin's surprise its Kitty who shows him the truth of sacrificial love, joining with Masha to wash and tend Nikolai's broken body.

Just reliving that moment to type this makes me want to weep. The grace and mercy and beauty in that scene is overwhelming. My only previous experiences with this story on film focus on the tragedy of Anna and Vronsky's "romance." This film quite frankly shocked me with its moral, subtly Christian worldview, and the way in which it examines -- primarily through contrasting Anna/Vronsky and Levin/Kitty -- love, and encourages sacrificial love, love that doesn't wallow in the filth the world offers, or in the temporary satisfaction that comes from indulging transitory flights of fancy, but a love that extends a hand to the suffering, the fallen, and offers instead of condemnation, grace and mercy. You can have Levin's ideals, but to my mind the story espouses a faith and a worldview that uses those principles to walk out the perfect love we aspire to in a world full of fallen, messed up souls.

That's the hope this story offers, the hope that that love exists and can change one's world. It's an idea that is beautifully illustrated in the final scene of the film, when we see Anna and Karenin's son running through a field with Anna and Vronsky's daughter. Karenin is relaxing nearby reading -- an attitude of repose that would have been unthinkable when he was first introduced. The implication that he has not only taken in the child that resulted from Anna's infidelity, but that he's actually spending time away from work with those children stole my breath. This is a man humbled and battered by tragedy, but who through forgiveness, through releasing the wrongs done to him, has the hope of a fresh future -- and those children have the hope of a better, deeper, meaningful relationship with their papa.

There are just a few quick casting notes that I want to briefly discuss before closing. In addition to the principle players I've discussed at length, this film is packed with wonderful talent in supporting roles. Pip Torrens makes an all-too-brief but warm and humorous appearance as Prince Shcherbatsky, Kitty and Dolly's father. Torrens is a period drama veteran, appearing in films such as Marple, Shackleton, and Lorna Doone, and will be seen in the forthcoming remake of The Lady Vanishes. Holliday Grainger and Ruth Wilson join Michelle Dockery in playing aristocratic acquaintances of Anna's -- the latter playing Vronsky's cousin, Princess Betsy. Grainger appeared in the recent film version of Jane Eyre, and plays Estella in the forthcoming Great Expectations. Wilson was a huge surprise, as her blonde princess with a lisping accent couldn't be farther from the warm-hearted portrayal of Jane Eyre in the 2006 miniseries that launched her career. Emily Watson, most recently seen as Rose in War Horse plays Countess Lydia, the socially-conscious, kind antithesis of the other glittering, but poisonous flowers that populate Anna's social circle. And last but certainly not least, it was terrific seeing Thomas Howes, the sadly now-deceased William from Downton Abbey make a brief appearance as a military acquaintance of Vronsky's, looking so DIFFERENT. :)

Anna Karenina is a gorgeous, beautifully-made, thought-provoking film that I honestly have not been able to stop thinking about since I saw it. The tragedy of Anna's poor choices, the way she trades her precious marriage commitment for a cheap fling broke my heart, especially when contrasted with Levin and Kitty's growing commitment to each other and the sanctity with which that relationship is viewed. This is a gorgeous film, every frame popping with color and detail, the set direction, costumes, and props creating a glittering, snow-capped fantasy world full of all-too-real heartbreak. (Also, the score! Dario Marianelli has outdone himself once again!) But the heartbreak is balanced by the hope that a love exists that, when embraced, extends grace and mercy and offers the chance of renewal.

• Read Rachel's take on the film at A Fair Substitute for Heaven

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen

I saw Salmon Fishing in the Yemen during its theatrical run, shortly after I finished reading the novel on which it is based by Paul Torday. I never got around to writing about the film after my theatrical experience, but now that this gem of a film is on DVD I intend to rectify that oversight. 

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is a charmer of a film, one that takes the best aspects of the novel (to my mind, at any rate) -- the characters of Alfred and Harriet, and builds the film around how one man's radical dream leaves their lives irrevocably changed. As I mentioned in my review of the book, the Paul Torday novel is less of a traditional novel (which is what I expected when I first saw this movie's previews) and more of a biting social commentary, with some really wickedly funny, sarcastic passages lampooning government and bureaucratic red tape. The movie wisely refocuses on the character of Alfred Jones, fisheries specialist, a man who lives his life like a well-oiled clock, not a jot or dash out of place, and looks at what happens when a well-ordered scientific mind such as Alfred's encounters a man who dares to dream the impossible , one who somehow has the faith that Alfred can make his dream a reality. Ewan McGregor OWNS this movie. I cannot think of another actor more ideally suited to play the somewhat shy, mild-mannered Alfred whose passions only seem to be roused when someone dares to suggest an impossible task that flies in the face of scientific logic.

It is a rare book adaptation that improves upon its source material, but I would argue that director Lasse Hallstrom and screenwriter Simon Beaufoy (the latter responsible for scripting the intimate, character-driven Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day and the eagerly anticipated big-screen adaptation of Catching Fire) have done just that. While retaining much of Torday's biting humor and sarcasm, they've managed to craft an intimate, character-driven piece that examines what happens when one man challenges the world to believe the impossible -- and what happens when a straight-laced, logic-driven man such as Alfred finds his worldview challenged, left wanting, and is left with the choice of how to respond. 

The role of Dr. Alfred Jones, fisheries specialist, is tailor-made for Ewan McGregor's acting strengths, and for my money it's one of the best performances of his career. In the wrong hands Alfred could become a caricature, a cardboard cut-out of a straight-laced academic whose lack of vision and social skills are played for nothing more than laughs. And while the script it saturated with warmth and genuine humor, it is McGregor's performance that imbues Alfred with life and vibrancy, heartache and hope. When Alfred first receives -- and quickly dismisses -- Harriet Chetwold-Talbot's e-mail detailing her client's vision of bringing salmon fishing to the friggin' Yemen (he'd rather work on his oh-so-exciting Caddis fly paper), he little realizes that Sheikh Muhammed's dream will turn his life on its ear. Alfred is stuck...he has his work, his straight-laced, buttoned-up work clothes (the vests!), and the routine of a marriage that has long since lost anything resembling a spark. 

Alfred and his wife Mary (Rachael Stirling) may share a name and a home but live very separate lives. I typically like Stirling as an actress so seeing her in the pretty much completely unsympathetic role of Mary is something of a jolt. But she carries off the ice queen quality the role requires with aplomb. Stirling should be a familiar face to Masterpiece Mystery fans -- she's appeared in Poirot, Miss Marple, and Inspector Lewis episodes, and earlier this summer she had a memorable supporting role in Snow White and the Huntsman. Now here's the thing about Alfred and Mary's marriage...I take the idea of marriage and that commitment very seriously in real life and how it is portrayed in entertainment. But going into this film I was predisposed to despising the character of Mary, because I could not STAND her in the novel. And Alfred, especially as portrayed by Ewan McGregor, NEEDS to move on with his life. Desperately. Trust me on this. :P

Harriet (Emily Blunt), the financial consultant who enlists Alfred's expertise for the fishing scheme, is everything Alfred is not. Effervescent, energetic, full of life, she's a woman unlike anyone Alfred has ever encountered. As the film opens, she is in the heady early days of a new relationship with Captain Robert Mayers (Tom Mison). Mison has appeared in both Lewis and Poirot, as well as a wholly memorable turn in the delightful skewering of Pride and Prejudice that is Lost in Austen, where he played Mr. Bingley. He's adorable. Scant weeks into their relationship, Robert receives orders sending him to Afghanistan. The deployment alone is stressful enough for the whirlwind "in love" couple, but when Robert is reported missing in action Harriet's fear over the potential loss and guilt over not knowing him well enough threaten to consume her -- a threaten to set her on a path of settling for the less risky, more conventional, safer option -- something with which Alfred is all too familiar. 

Blunt is one of my favorite up-and-coming British actresses. In everything from The Young Victoria to the off-beat and quirky Wild Target, she brings a poise and sensitivity to her performances that just light up the screen. As Harriet she's positively luminous. Like a moth to a flame, as their acquaintance develops Alfred cannot help but be drawn to her -- and to the character's credit that is as far it goes. His marriage may be on the brink of imploding, but Alfred is a very deliberate individual here, one who doesn't undertake any action or change lightly -- and that ultimately is one of his best attributes. McGregor and Blunt have a wonderful on-screen chemistry -- from their characters' early meetings where he gripes and she teases, to the later moments where they've both learned to listen and value and appreciate one another, they bring a subtle, nuanced maturity to the story unfolding on-screen. One of my favorite moments is when Alfred shows up at Harriet's apartment shortly after she's received the news about Robert's disappearance. She's sure he's come to "bully her" back to work, when in reality he's brought her a sandwich because he's worried she's not eating well. Adorable? I DIE, IT'S SO ADORABLE. Unlike her physical relationship with Robert, Harriet's relationship with Alfred is built on getting to know each other at a much deeper level, a friendship that holds the possibility of something more, a slow burn all to rarely seen in films today -- and I loved that. 

Much hinges on the role of Sheikh Muhammed, the man whose dream is responsible for upending Alfred's life. The sheikh is brought to life by Amr Waked, an Egyptian actor I'm more than a little in love with following his turn in this film. I loved Waked's portrayal of the sheikh's passionate belief in his dream and vision, and his calm manner and extraordinary sensitivity. But best of all, the way in which this film develops the friendship between Alfred and the sheikh is just superb. On the surface the two men couldn't be more dissimilar -- but with the entree of a shared passion for fishing, an understanding of that world, the shiekh slowly earns Alfred's trust, respect, and admiration. Needless to say I couldn't be happier that the film substantially revises the ending of the novel since I love Waked's performance so much. :)

While this film is first and foremost a hearfelt character study, the script doesn't neglect Torday's wickedly funny political jibes. The novel's male Press Office of the Prime Minister agent is re-written for a female -- and as such Kristin Scott Thomas delivers a scene-stealing performance. She is hilarious as the cutthroat politico. She's larger-than-life, oft-times ridiculous, and perfect character vehicle for conveying Torday's biting send-up of government ridiculousness. *wink* Conleth Hill also delivers another scene-stealing performance as Alfred's much-loathed boss Bernard Sugden. Hill is perfectly cast as Sugden and spot-on in his portrayal of the character's sheer laziness. Absolutely hilarious!

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is a beautifully-constructed film. The color palette, the cinematography, the gorgeous shots of Morocco as a stand-in for the Yemen -- this film is a visual feast. Dario Marianelli delivers a beautifully-rendered, emotive score -- a must-have in my opinion for any fan of this composer's work. While some might find the film a bit slow-paced, I loved it, and to my mind it doesn't miss a beat -- every scene, each line of dialogue, every nuance of the performances are woven together to create a beautiful, wholly absorbing, heartrending and poignant film.

This film took my best takeaway from the novel -- the power and importance of belief and dreams to one's life -- and ran with it. On his most unusual journey to see the sheikh's dream realized, Alfred must confront the question of his very identity and who he wants to be. Can he change, can he risk trying? Or is his future programmed into his very DNA? Expectations versus dreams, belief, and how the very idea of hope can be a powerful, transformative force in one's life -- if we let it in. Without a doubt one of my favorite films of the year.

Jane Eyre

I feel as though I've been looking forward to the release of the new Jane Eyre film for ages, and the much longed-for and highly-anticipated release finally, finally arrived yesterday. People, this Jane Eyre was worth the wait, and when it finally expands into wide release, for goodness' sake go! Sure to appeal to die-hard Jane Eyre fans, this film is also a wildly accessible introduction to anyone not familiar with the beloved story.

I'm a huge fan of the 2006 Masterpiece Classic miniseries version of Jane Eyre, starring Toby Stephens as Rochester and Ruth Wilson as Jane. With a script by the brilliant Sandy Welch, that version of Jane Eyre has the luxury of a four-hour runtime wherein the intricacies and detail of Charlotte Bronte's classic novel can be explored on-screen. With a roughly two-hour timeframe with which to work for this new theatrical release, some detail is necessarily sacrificed. But similarly to Focus Features' success in bringing another classic near and dear to my heart to the big screen - Pride and Prejudice in 2005 as compared to the (in my mind, anyway) definitive miniseries from 1995 - this film retains the heart and soul of the novel, the critical story beats necessary to successfully bring Jane's story to life.

For any story detail that might be sacrificed for the sake of a manageable theatrical runtime, director Cary Fukunaga more than makes up for that by retaining the mood and atmosphere of the novel. There's a heavy reliance on the gothic elements Jane Eyre's story. This is aided by the structure of the film. Where most Jane Eyre adaptations are told in a linear fashion, following the structure of the novel from Jane's childhood to her time at Thornfield, this film is largely told in flashback. The movie opens with Jane fleeing Thornfield and Rochester following the revelation of Bertha's existence, and getting lost on the moors until alone and sick she stumbles on the home of the Rivers family. From there, as she recovers, we see her childhood with the Reeds, time at Lowood School, and arrival at Thornfield told in flashback as she recovers. It's an unusual structure, but given the limitations of the film's runtime I think it's an effective way to include as much of Jane's past as possible.

The success of any Jane Eyre adaptation rests, for me, on the casting of Jane and Rochester. More than anything else, more than any other character, more than the setting, I have to click with Jane and Rochester. I have to become as emotionally invested with their love story on-screen as I do when reading the novel. Happily, I absolutely love Mia Wasikowska as Jane and Michael Fassbender as Rochester. Wasikowska first came to my attention when I saw her play Alice in Tim Burton's gorgeous re-imagining of Alice in Wonderland (my review). At 22, she is perhaps the closest in age to Jane in the novel than any other actress who's brought the character to life on-screen. She handles the role masterfully, balancing Jane's youthfulness and maturity with seasoned aplomb. Her best scenes are perhaps the proposal - her transition from disbelief, anger, and frustration with Rochester gradually gives way with glorious abandon when she accepts that he loves her - and the moment when Rochester on his knees is begging her to stay, and she refuses. The strength and emotion with which Wasikowska infuses that scene is breathtakingly powerful. She's definitely an actress to watch.

I loved Michael Fassbender as Rochester. He doesn't quite knock Toby Stephens' portrayal of Bronte's enigmatic leading man from the top spot in my Rochester ranking, but that's in large part due to the fact that he has less screen time to work with. What I wouldn't give to see Fassbender and Wasikowska in a sprawling, four hour version of Jane Eyre. *sigh* The possibilities, oh the possibilities. :) For a piece that relies on atmosphere as much as this film does, Fassbender embraces his turn as a tortured, Byronic hero with relish. His Rochester has an edgy, dangerous, unpredictable edge, and in his all-too-brief scenes with Jane (I just wanted more...those scenes could've gone on forever), Fassbender has an intense, eager quality, latching onto Jane's every word. She's a puzzle he's desperate to solve, and the energy Fassbender brings to those scenes imbue Rochester's interactions with Jane with a subtlety and a romanticism that I quite simply adored. And of course it didn't hurt that the man has a fabulous voice. The script does him a HUGE favor by retaining much of the novel's most well-known and beloved dialogue, and hearing Fassbender bring that to life worked for me on every level imaginable. :) And Fassbender can say more with his eyes than most actors could do with pages and pages of dialogue - well played sir, very well played.

It was such a treat to see Judi Dench as Thornfield's housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax. Dench brought a wonderful warmth to her scenes opposite Wasikowska. Her Mrs. Fairfax is loving, loyal, and capable - and quite long-suffering when it comes to putting up with Rochester's capricious moods. My favorite scene is probably when she meets Jane in the burned-out shell of Thornfield at the end of the film. She's so clearly grateful to see Jane alive and well, and her apology of sorts - assuring Jane that she didn't know Rochester was married, that she would've helped Jane leave Thornfield - was extremely well-played. Though brief, Dench plays Mrs. Fairfax's relationship with Jane with more of a mothering quality than I can recall seeing in prior film versions that I really liked. Who wouldn't want Dame Judi in your corner? :)

Sally Hawkins was a surprisingly terrifying Mrs. Reed. It's hard to believe that just a few years ago she was playing a romantic lead in the Masterpiece Classic version of Persuasion (my review). I don't know if it was the costumes and hairstyle, or if Hawkins has lost some weight, or a combination of factors, but her face had this awful cadaver-like look that nicely played into disliking the character of Mrs. Reed (as if a viewer needs any help doing that). Speaking of Jane's youth, I will go ahead and mention that Amelia Clarkson's turn as the young Jane was really well done. Not only was she a passing good match for a young Wasikowska, but she was quite impressive as Jane the child. Her strength was wholly believable, and in Jane's scenes at the Reed home and then Lowood, Clarkson had an arresting screen presence. She could definitely be an actress to watch as she grows up and matures.

The Rivers family was made up of a trio of familiar faces. Sister Diana was played by Holliday Granger, who has appeared in everything from Merlin to Any Human Heart. But most memorably for me, she was largely responsible for one of the best Guy-centric episodes in Robin Hood - the season three ep "A Dangerous Deal" (my review). Sister Mary was played by Tamzin Merchant, whose first film role, interestingly enough, was as Georgiana Darcy in the 2005 film version of Pride and Prejudice. The largely thankless role of their clergyman brother St. John Rivers falls to Jamie Bell. Poor Jame. *sigh* I'm a huge fan of his work - he's made memorable appearances in everything from Nicholas Nickleby as Smike, to brother Asael Bielski in Defiance, to Esca in The Eagle. But even he in all his fabulousness can't make St. John any less...well, odd comes to mind. It was interesting to observe the audience's reaction to St. John's high-handed speeches to Jane and expectations of her future in his missionary work. Goodness, even when you know what's coming the urge to smack St. John upside the head is nearly overpowering.

There's one or two more casting point I simply must mention - Bertha's brother, Richard Mason, is played by none other than Robin Hood's own Harry Lloyd, the one-time Will Scarlett. Goodness did he ever look awful and half mad himself like his poor on-screen sister. I also thought that Imogen Poots did a fine job with the role of Blanche Ingram. I cannot TELL you how refreshing it was to see a Blanche who is a brunette - it seems that she's always portrayed as a blonde in film versions of Jane Eyre. Poots may look familiar to fans of the film Me and Orson Welles, where she played Lorelei Lathrop, or Miss Austen Regrets, where she took on the role of Fanny Knight.

The entire film crew, from the art department to the cinematographer to the wardrobe department deserve major kudos for bringing director Fukunaga's moody, absorbing vision of Jane Eyre's world to life. I especially loved all of the Thornfield Hall scenes - this may be my favorite Thornfield ever captured on film. With its rich, dark wood panelling and twisting hallways, this film gives us a worthy gothic setting for Bertha's cries in the night and Rochester's dark moods. And the use of darkness and shadow and light - oh my, every frame of this film is carefully constructed to set the mood and help tell the story.

Dario Marianelli contributed the score, and people it is BRILLIANT. Marianelli also wrote the scores for Atonement and Pride and Prejudice, and given that track record and the work he produced for Jane Eyre, I wouldn't be surprised at all if he wins a third Oscar for his work on this film. He'd better at least be nominated! Instead of featuring piano solos (as he did in Pride and Prejudice), for Jane Eyre Marianelli showcases the violin, which for the record may be my favorite instrument. I don't think anything else could be more suited to bring musical life to Jane and Rochester's world, with its ability to be gorgeous, poignant, and moody, tugging on the heartstrings with every note. This soundtrack features performances by violinist Jack Liebeck, who could easily give Joshua Bell a run for his money after hearing his work on this film. You can purchase the soundtrack on CD or MP3 download through Amazon - if you're a fan of gorgeous film scores as I am, it's a must-have!

I have to talk about the ending of this film, which was definitely unexpected. After obtaining Rochester's location from Mrs. Fairfax, Jane arrives to find him sitting alone and looking suitably moody, with only his dog Pilot for company. I loved the fact that Fassbender's hair was long and wild, and that he sported a beard for the scene - it was an extra touch that made him look rougher and more unkempt than many other Rochesters have played the reunion scene. When Jane tells him she's returned, and they embrace, the moment is gorgeous, shot through with the tension of romantic hopes at long last realized. When Rochester wonders if he's still dreaming, there's this heartbeat of a moment where I swear I didn't breathe, then Jane bids him wake - and the film ends. Unexpectedly abrupt, and the more I've thought about it, the more I have to give the director credit for making such a bold choice to end the film in such a way. That whole last scene was beautifully executed, from Wasikowska and Fassbender's tender performances to the breath-taking use of lighting. It's as if we're finally witnessing Jane and Rochester awake from the tortured dream of life that's conspired to keep them apart - and past that moment everything is left to the imagination of the viewer.

I'm currently re-reading the novel for the first time in several years. Sadly I was unable to get that accomplished prior to seeing this film, but since I plan to see the movie again in theaters if at all possible, hopefully I will have finished the book by then so I can have the entire novel fresh in my mind for further comparisons. Shocking, I know, that I'd be willing to see this film more than once... *wink*

I desperately hope that this ridiculously long, picture-heavy post will inspire you to rush out and see Jane Eyre the second it opens in your area - it is SO worth the ticket price. And thanks to everyone who commented on my last post, kicking off the All Things Jane celebration - I hope I'll be able to spotlight some books and films old-time and new fans of Jane Eyre will enjoy. :)