The Superior 'Pride and Prejudice' Adaptation

This festive season, I have been celebrating the true meaning of Christmas: watching period dramas on my laptop in pajamas. Amen. In my holiday viewing, I felt like returning to a beloved favourite, Pride and Prejudice, but could not decide which adaptation to revisit. The glossy, star-studded Hollywood feature-length with a sweeping soundtrack? Or the tried-and-true, charmingly funny six-hour BBC television series? Decisions, decisions.

Firstly, I would like to assure you of my authority to deliberate such a pressing matter - I am a history student and radical Janeite myself, so this is near-enough an expert opinion. Secondly, I wish to establish some metrics to judge by to reach the most scientifically accurate conclusion. Therefore, both adaptations shall be judged on: format, casting, costuming, soundtrack and vibes. Let us commence.

Format

This is the starkest of differences between the two Pride and Prejudices (I am using this plural, so stay with me). The 2005 version (dir. Joe Wright) clocks in at a comfortable 129 minutes, meaning a certain amount of plot is condensed for the sake of attention spans. This is not an inherent fault - in fact, the film does a commendable job of streamlining the plot for its format. For the average viewer looking for a love story and not a deep-dive into Regency culture/class/interactions, the film is ideal. However, the more obsessive will be greater satisfied with the whopping six-hour screentime the BBC version (dir. Simon Langton) has to offer, with great loyalty to its source material. This series puts the sloooooooow into slow-burn, yet keeps anticipation high with even minor interactions becoming thrilling scenes. Furthermore, the greater runtime allows the audience to spend more time in Austen's world, with all its large characters and small hilarities - a great deal more of Austen's trademark humour is allowed to shine through here. So, for the sheer reason of getting more bang for your buck, the 1995 version wins this category. 

Casting

credit: BBC     credit: Universal Pictures

Ah, yes. The Darcy Question. Some cynics suggest this is all the comparison boils down to. Well, although it is not of sole importance, the casting of the story's romantic hero is a   massive factor in this consideration. 1995's Colin Firth is the classic Darcy - brooding, stoic with impressive hair and surprisingly tasteful mutton chops. When you think Mr. Darcy, it is undoubtedly Firth's famous interpretation that comes to mind. However, when I first watched the 2005 adaptation, I was pleasantly surprised by Mathew Macfadyen's performance, revealing a slightly more earnest and sensitive male lead (the hand flex - need I say more?). Whilst it took me a while to get over seeing Succession's Tom Wambsgans in period get-up, I was slightly won over by the modern Darcy.

It is slightly trickier to pin the Lizzies against one another - both Jennifer Ehle (1995) and Kiera Knightley (2005) give excellent performances. The differences between said performances comes from the growth of the 'Feisty Young Woman' trope in cinema coming to a peak by Knightley's time (no fault of her own), making for a more stereotypical portrayal of Lizzie, not the multi-dimensional character of the novel's pages. Nonetheless, both embody the strong-willed and intelligent heroine well. 

The secondary characters are less consequential in the film, leaving an upper-hand to the BBC's array of comic excellence in its cast. Most standout performance comes from the wonderful Alison Steadman (of Gavin and Stacey fame) as Mrs. Bennet, who embodies the hypochondriac matriarch of the family with preening comic excellence. Most of the adaptation's comic mileage comes from her brilliant performance, taking on a scratching tone of voice to deliver many notable quotables - 'Mr. Benettttttttttt!' 'Mr. Colinsssssss!'

credit: BBC

Even if Macfadyen's Darcy takes a slight lead, the overall ensemble of the 1995 TV miniseries is such a strong and hilarious one that 1995 wins yet another category.

Costuming

I'm going to whisper this ... I'm not overly bothered about historical accuracy in period costuming. Shoot me! Obviously giving a sense of time period is important, and costume designers should work from historical examples. However, this strictness of observing 'accuracy' (an unobtainable ideal) can often stifle creativity. A great deal of storytelling in film and TV is through the visual medium of styling, and as such expressing character must take precedence. That's not to say that the more faithful 1995 version is guilty of this sin - there is some beautiful designs featured. Costume designer Dinah Collins makes a point of dressing Lizzy in earthy tones to show her sensible, down-to-earth character and emphasise her understated beauty, a stark comparison to Caroline Bingley's fiery orange palette, complete with full Regency trimmings of feathers and bows. However, in the film version Jacqueline Duran relaxes the presence of high empire waistlines for more flowing and expressive clothes - the characters are free to move and come to life.  Whilst the 2005 version has been criticised for playing a bit fast and loose with regency hairstyles, the outcome is iconic - take Lizzy's ballroom updo:

credit: Universal Pictures

This would certainly not be found on the dancefloor in the 1810s, but it makes for a memorable look that demonstrates Lizzy's well-hidden delicate side. The sheer number of YouTube tutorials for this hairstyle alone shows why I am handing the win on costuming over to the 2005 adaptation.

Soundtrack

Carl Davis provides a lively soundtrack to the BBC miniseries with a distinctively period-appropriate sound, blending orchestral and chamber music, with some folk-inspired touches. Set in the tail end of the Classical era of music, Davis keeps the retained and ornamented feel of music at the time, citing Beethoven as a particular inspiration. Davis also keeps all the trappings of a traditional orchestral arrangement - strings, woodwind and delicate piano all play equal role in creating a stately and formal feel. This works very well for the adaptation, striving for accuracy in all other areas. Just as emotional restraint and propriety held back high society, the music is of a consistent tempo and tonality, a restrained accompaniment to the goings-on on screen.

Dario Marianelli gives a distinctly more cinematic and modern soundtrack, expected of a well-known composer with scores for Atonement and Paddington 2 winning him acclaim. Marianelli seems to borrow from the Romantic era of music that was only green in this decade, producing a more expressive and dynamic score. A chamber-feel is traded for piano and string-heavy tracks with dramatic tempo changes to underscore the intensity of the film. For a modern audience, this score emerges the winner, more intimate and visceral than its competitor. Austen might have been more into Davis' Beethoven tribute, but that's besides the point.

Vibes

It is not surprising to say that the Hollywood version of Pride and Prejudice is more aesthetically pleasing - the  glamorous cinematography of Roman Osin can be thanked for this, transforming 17thC rural England into an advert for a countryside spa retreat. The film is perfect for group viewing (girls' night, preferably) with its moments of high drama to freak out over - you don't need to sit through hours of polite dancing to get to the intense stuff. If you want rain-soaked confessions of love that feel straight out of a Taylor Swift music video, you'll be happy with this version.  

Those who can get by without instant gratification (you sophisticates, you) will much prefer the simmering tension of six-hour long installments of Lizzy and Darcy's will-they-won't-they. With such anticipation, every glance or conversation becomes a massive drama in itself. The final payoff is so much more satisfying being so long in the making. Of course, you will need to carve out a great deal of spare time in your schedule to thoroughly enjoy this adaptation, and be armed with some patience too. But as perfect solitary Sunday viewing, this version takes the cake.

And the winner is...

1995! And a well-deserved win, at that. I have aimed to remain as objective and impartial as possible in this inquiry, and truth be told both incarnations have a special place in my heart. However, for its slow-cooked success that would launch the Austen-mania of the 90s, the BBC's miniseries adaptation is the clear superior. If you have the time in this long holiday slog, sit yourself down and get immersed. Happy holiday viewing!