Sense & Sensibility (2026) - Review

Rating: 4 out of 5

THERE will be a generation of audiences for whom Ang Lee’s 1995 take on Jane Austen’s Sense & Sensibility, starring Kate Winslet, Emma Thompson, Hugh Grant and Alan Rickman, is the definitive version.

But for those, like me, who haven’t seen it, or perhaps those looking for a different take, then Georgia Oakley’s new film offers a somewhat different perspective that’s perhaps informed by the moment in which it is being released.

That is to say, it’s a more sombre, maybe even revisionist version of Austen’s source material that feels more earthy and bittersweet.

There’s even a touch of the Brontë about it… from both Charlotte’s Jane Eyre, as so vividly realised in Cary Fukunaga’s 2011 film version, and Emily’s Wuthering Heights, with its combination of wild characters and even wilder moors.

Here, Oakley infuses several scenes with shots of nature, juxtaposing the raw, often rainswept environment of its Sussex and Devonshire settings with the similarly raw, often tear-stained emotions of its characters.

Those characters are headed by Elinor and Marianne Dashwood (Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles), who along with their younger sibling and mother, are forced to move from their grand estate to humble Barton Cottage in Devon following the death of their father.

Prior to this happening, however, Elinor meets and falls for Edward Ferrars (George MacKay), a fair minded gentleman with one eye on becoming a vicar, while Marianne finds herself courted by the brooding Colonel Brandon (Norwegian actor Herbert Nordrum), before becoming more tempted by the attentions of the far more charismatic Mr Willoughby (Frank Dillane), after he comes to her rescue on a beach.

But the path to either sisters’ true love does not run smooth and there are many obstacles to navigate in order for both to find happiness, not least because of society’s expectations around class and wealth, as well as their own differing ideologies.

Where Elinor prides herself in restraint and caution, Marianne is more rash and wild, and more in tune with the nature surrounding her.

Diana Reid’s thoughtful script offers plenty to challenge both women, often placing them at odds with each other, without ever allowing audiences to doubt the affection they also hold for one another (as evidenced in a lovely late moment between them).

And Oakley’s direction doesn’t go big on grandstanding moments, either, save for a couple of lively (and eye-catching) dance sequences that capture the mood of each occasion.

Rather, this is more reserved and more atmospheric, tapping into themes that lend this Sense & Sensibility more contemporary relevance: such as the difficulty and stigma attached to poverty or the challenges of maintaining dignity and compassion when others around you thrive on greed and disloyalty - the former, certainly a key motivation behind Austen's work, the latter very much informed by the social climbing and self-promotion that has certainly intensified in the social media age.

These themes also serve to show how timeless Austen's work remains - and how relevant. For while society may profess to have moved on, the issues facing it may simply be dressed differently.

Oakley's movie offers a slow burn approach that rewards patience, delivering a finale that is quietly inspiring and genuinely emotional. But also in keeping with the overall tone of proceedings.

Likewise, the performances, which are uniformly excellent. Of the supporting players, MacKay is wholly endearing as the clearly smitten Edward, whose abiding sense of decency places him at odds with his true feelings; while Nordrum pines effectively for Marianne while hinting at a suppressed anger towards his love rival, with whom he shares a complicated history. Again, the colonel is a decent man whose honour and sense of right and wrong frequently holds him back.

By contrast, Dillane is suitably caddish as the womanising Mr Willoughby (offering a nice, charismatic foil), while Fiona Shaw offers warmth and comedy as the mischievous Mrs Jennings, determined to play matchmaker to both sisters, but equally thwarted by circumstances and emotions beyond her control.

Edgar-Jones, meanwhile, is a study in longing and restraint, also being governed by her sense of what’s deemed right, even to her own detriment. Yet she’s also capable of holding her own, displaying both calm reason (or the ‘sense’ of the film’s title) with a steely independence in keeping with Austen’s trademark heroines.

The standout here, for me however, is Creed-Miles, who really embodies the impulsiveness and heart-on-sleeve turmoil of Marianne, embracing the volatile ‘sensibilities’ of her character. She exudes charm in spite of her recklessness… and is duly rewarded by Oakley with the lion’s share of the film’s big moments.

Indeed, it is over her heart that the colonel and Willoughby duel in one of the film’s most striking sequences, beautifully shot amid snowy footprints and a low-key sun by Oakley.

But where several past Austen adaptations have often basked in the warm sunshine of classic English countrysides, this also feels somewhat more atmospheric… with heavy downpours and grey skies far more in abundance; thereby making the pockets of sunshine feel that much more pronounced.

It’s a decision that works to the film’s advantage, making it feel more distinct.

And while some may question the need for another Austen adaptation, Oakley answers those questions in some style… delivering a film that should more than satisfy the purists while offering something that feels contemporary too.

Certificate: U

Running time: 2hrs 12mins