It’s common among Austen fans (or Janites, as we like to be called) to find ourselves in long and spirited debates about which adaptations of her novels are the best. 1995 was an enormous year for Jane Austen on screen. Most enduringly beloved, perhaps, is the six part BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. Lesser known—but much revered—was the subtle and tender film of Austen’s most mature novel, Persuasion, starring Ciaran Hinds as Captain Wentworth. Then we come to my favourite, Clueless—a modernisation of 1815’s Emma that skilfully translates the social politics of the English countryside to the colourful high school world of Beverly Hills.
The Austen film that swept Best Adapted Screenplay categories across award ceremonies that season, however, was none other than Emma Thompson’s Sense and Sensibility (dir. Ang Lee). Praise for the film continues to this day, with fans returning again and again for Thompson’s deft script, Ang Lee’s careful eye on the beautiful Devon landscapes and the much beloved performances by Thompson (Elinor) and then 19-year-old Kate Winslet (Marianne). On the 31 August 2025, Sense and Sensibility will be screened at Pictureville to celebrate its 30th anniversary.
The 30th anniversaries of these films are not the only ones to celebrate this year, however. 2025 also marks the 250th anniversary of Jane herself, who was born in 1775. Celebratory exhibitions, events and even regency balls have been happening up and down the country, including locally at Harewood House. There, two costumes made by Cosprop and worn by Thompson and Winslet in Sense and Sensibility are on display as part of their Austen and Turner exhibition, among many other exciting artefacts. Was there ever a better time to revisit this iconic adaptation?
Sense and Sensibility is Austen’s most high-stakes story. Our heroines are living with a genuine threat of poverty and are entirely reliant on the kindness and charity of others (namely, men)—a circumstance Jane Austen and her sister were all too familiar with. The film understands the economics and society of the era perfectly, which is vital for a story so wrapped up in these stakes, but it never forgets to find time for comedy in among the drama.
Sisterhood is at the heart of Austen’s stories, and as her many surviving letters tell us, her own life too. Cassandra Austen was undoubtedly the most important person in Jane’s life, with the two sisters having lived together until Jane’s early death in 1817. Their close bond is reflected in Sense and Sensibility’s Dashwood sisters, and the real strength of Thompson’s adaptation is the way in which it centres this relationship above all others.
Many moments between the Dashwood sisters (little Margaret included) will ring true to women today. They squabble, and tease one another about boys, and when they find themselves in trouble, blame the other. Meaningful conversations happen in a glance. When Willoughby carries Marianne into Barton cottage, Elinor looks at her pointedly, and the understanding between them, portrayed so expertly in this glance, is one that transcends eras. A simple and momentary but wholly recognisable moment of sorority. As Willoughby leaves, they hiss “His name. His name!” to their mother, in much the same tone a woman in 1995 may have hissed “His digits. Get his digits!”
The marriage mart is, of course, an economic issue for the Dashwoods, but thanks to Thompson’s commitment to injecting Austen’s trademark humour, it’s also rather fun. The script also takes ample opportunities for gossip, which Austen herself famously adored (so much so that many of the letters between Jane and Cassandra were posthumously censored by relatives, in fear of causing offence to those discussed).
In the film, classic Austen dialogue is infused with naturalistic action and asides. Bonnet ribbons too tightly knotted break up plot-driven conversation, and a fallen shawl helps to display the beginnings of tenderness and romantic feeling. Throughout, Thompson inserts extra little moments of humanity, like Elinor wrapping herself in blankets on her first cold night at Barton cottage, and complaining that Marianne’s feet are cold. Or the sweet and amusing sequence of Elinor and Marianne washing their little sister’s unruly hair in a bowl.
Lee’s direction gives the film beauty in its quietest moments. At Norland Park, sounds of the country filter through even in internal scenes: light wind and songbirds, accompanied beautifully by Marianne’s diegetic piano music. It takes us right into the vast rooms of the country house, with their open windows and endless surrounding greenery. Once we move to Barton Cottage, that greenery takes centre stage. With his wide lens, Lee presents Austen’s beloved English countryside as gorgeous and expansive (and even, at times, a little dangerous).
The London sequences are largely made up of internal sets, an environment that proves to be stuffy and oppressive for our heroines—the spirited Marianne in particular. Lee does well to make her appear out of place outside her usual romantic country landscape.
For many fans, Sense and Sensibility is made of its performances. Winslet is appropriately youthful and dramatic, and Hugh Laurie skilfully balances sarcasm and sincerity. Alan Rickman’s quiet and ruminative portrayal of Colonel Brandon is pathos-inducing. His whispered “Give me an occupation, Miss Dashwood. Or I shall run mad,” is a particular favourite among romantically inclined viewers. Most iconic of all, of course, is the performance of the film’s lead (a role Ang Lee insisted she take).
Thompson’s performance throughout is contained and stoic, and she allows Elinor only the briefest lapses of emotion. Her subtle horror, upon hearing Lucy Steel’s secret, is mesmerising. Her face is straight enough to conceal her own truth from from Lucy, but her eyes are just fragile enough to let the audience into the depth of her personal heartbreak.
When all is finally resolved, and Elinor is given her happy ending in the form of a proposal from the once unreachable Edward Ferrars (Hugh Grant), we are treated both to Thompson’s landmark emotional performance, in which she breaks down crying, and to Grant’s genuine reaction. (Thompson, according to interviews, had neglected to tell Grant of this creative choice, leaving him rather surprised on the day). In this moment, Thompson gives Elinor, and everything she’s bravely suffered though, the respect she deserves. Again and again, we have watched her quietly put aside her own happiness for the sake of others. Never allowing herself to fuss. In this moment, Thompson allows Elinor to feel and express all of it. To take a break (for once in her life) from sense, and display a little of her sister’s sensibility.
Find out more about Pictureville Cinema and get tickets for Sense and Sensibility here.
Such a beautiful exploration of one of the best depictions of Austen’s work. Somehow I find myself coming back to this repeatedly even above all others and the sisterhood is absolutely at the core of that.