In her column “Her POV,” Blyss Cleveland reviews classic and contemporary films directed by women.
Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.
I am frustrated with Hollywood’s recycling of intellectual property through constant remakes and reboots rather than investing in fresh stories. However, when I saw the beautiful and dramatic trailer for director Georgia Oakley’s adaptation of Jane Austen’s 1811 debut novel “Sense and Sensibility” (2026), I immediately set a calendar notification for the earliest available showing.
The movie opens with Marianne Dashwood (Esmé Creed-Miles) lying in a field as her family awaits news of her late father’s will. Once it arrives, the Dashwood women — sisters Marianne, Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Margaret (Bodhi Rae Breathnach), along with the girls’ mother — learn the family estate will be passed on to John, their father’s son from his first marriage. When John and his wife Fanny come to claim the estate, the question of how generous he will be with the inheritance rises. Dispossessed of their home and strapped for cash, the plot focuses on whether Elinor and Marianne will find suitable husbands when marriage was one of the only pathways to financial security.
The evergreen appeal of Austen’s oeuvre is the depiction of women navigating patriarchal society. These stories are refreshing because contemporary narratives often champion the ways women are equal and obscure ongoing inequalities — especially when it comes to love and marriage. Elinor and Marianne’s lack of a substantial dowry constrains their chances of securing suitable matches. Beyond questions of “Will they or won’t they?”, the sisters’ romantic chances are besieged by questions of “Can they?” “Sense and Sensibility” charts the courting woes that ensue when your honey doesn’t have money.
As the Dashwood women prepare to leave their estate, their plans are altered by two consequential visits. The first arrival is Fanny’s brother, Edward (George MacKay). He and Elinor immediately take a strong liking to one another. The second is an unannounced visit from Mrs. Jennings (the incomparable Fiona Shaw), a distant relative who storms in bosom first. Lest she be valued solely for her sensational cleavage, Mrs. Jennings comes bearing gifts: a lead on a cottage and a potential husband for Marianne.
Once settled in their new town, Marianne becomes entangled between the staid Colonel Brandon and his rival, the very tan and debonair Willoughby. She is initially unimpressed by Colonel Brandon and has her heart set on Willoughby, but looks can be deceiving. Meanwhile, Elinor pins her romantic hopes on Edward, who is expected to maintain his family’s status by marrying a wealthy woman. The Dashwoods are skint.
I didn’t care for the laundering of the men’s reputations. Willoughby and Colonel Brandon enter a duel over Marianne, which the Dashwoods find swoonworthy instead of foolish. Edward’s deception of Elinor is portrayed as noble, instead of suggesting he must mature to love her properly. By elevating the romantic drama and assuring us these good girls found good men, Oakley avoids telling a more complex story about how even a marriage of equals requires individual growth.
Social engagements inside private homes provide a window into typical upper-class marriages. These scenes are warnings about how even material comfort afforded by marriage may not be a salve for emotional mistreatment. There is a clever casting choice that suggests one couple’s marriage is non-traditional until we clock that the wife is merely tolerated by her husband.
Stories about landed gentry often juxtapose the interpersonal conflicts of polite society with the relative calm of the natural world. In “Sense and Sensibility,” nature is a friend, but a friend to all is a friend to none.
Oakley’s direction alternates between highlighting the bucolic beauty of the countryside and its indifference to human troubles. here is a scene where Margaret messily snacks on wild blackberries and stains her white dress. She is years away from the marriage market and being granted access to freedom beyond behaving ladylike. When the Dashwoods take the long carriage ride to their new home, there are cuts from close-ups of their faces to the picturesque landscapes. Once it begins to rain, it continues to do so incessantly — a fact commented on by Mrs. Jennings’ daughter, who appears to be unable to make much conversation beyond the weather.
Austen purists and sticklers for period accuracy may object to the film’s Gothic elements. I’m fairly neutral about the way many contemporary period dramas play with pastiche. As much as I enjoyed the film, I have some minor quibbles. One concerns the Dashwood sisters’ hair, which is nearly always in a state I can only describe as mussed. Scenes at the balls show that Elinor and Marianne’s hairstyles mark their unbridled nature but overemphasize their distance from their peers.
At its heart, “Sense and Sensibility” follows Elinor and Marianne as they learn to abandon their preconceived notions because people are complicated. I identify with the latter point because as much as I will continue to decry the lack of original stories, I will also celebrate as many Austen adaptations as the industry produces. I only hope they rise to the quality of this film — or exceed it.