Becoming Jane (2007)

image courtesy of bbc.co.uk

I watched the first few seasons of Downton Abbey before I lost interest. My wife and I are fans of The Gilded Age, Julian Fellowes’ “American Downton,” partly because it’s filmed in part in the Stockade section of Schenectady, New York, where I work. And while this film doesn’t dive into the upstairs-downstairs themes of that era of manners, it isn’t lost on this viewer how much Jane Austen’s novels have inspired those types of movies and shows.

Jane Austen (Anne Hathaway), the youngest daughter of Reverend George Austen (James Cromwell), dreams of becoming a writer despite the era’s expectations that she marry well. She clashes with Tom Lefroy (James McAvoy), a witty but disreputable young lawyer, only to fall for him as they bond over her literary ambitions. A scheme to win the blessing of Tom’s wealthy great-uncle backfires when he learns of Jane’s poverty and refuses to support the match, forcing Tom to choose between Jane and his family’s financial survival. Heartbroken, Jane accepts a proposal from the steady but unloved Mr. Wisley (Laurence Fox), and even when Tom returns to beg her to elope, she realizes the marriage would ruin his family and calls it off herself, giving up love for his sake. Decades later, now a celebrated and unmarried author, Jane meets Tom again - he has named his eldest daughter after her - and reads aloud from Pride and Prejudice as he watches her with quiet, enduring affection.

There have been dozens, if not hundreds, of films made about the conflict between true love and security, especially in this era, so a film like this risks feeling like a retread. I’m on record with my love of Merchant Ivory films, some of the greatest purveyors of these themes, and while I wouldn’t call this mere imitation, it can’t match the prowess of those films, let alone Austen adaptations like Ang Lee’s Sense and Sensibility or Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice. What Julian Jarrold’s film has going for it is two go-for-broke lead performances that really gel. McAvoy is the poster boy for “handsome cad” at this particular moment in the film industry, while Hathaway’s youth and inherent innocence, hiding a brilliant wit, hit all the right notes in their chemistry together. In a film so devoid of heat elsewhere, their curt glances and secret meetings keep the passion afloat.

It’s the (non)moving pieces around them that drag the narrative down a bit. Jane’s sisters, Tom’s acquaintances, and everyone else feel a bit too stodgy, like vessels playing a part in a dollhouse love story. The Austen adaptations I mentioned live and breathe because they build out their secondary characters so well - the sisters in Pride and Prejudice, for example, give standout performances in what could’ve been throwaway roles. That doesn’t happen here. Outside of the romantic leads, it feels a tad artificial. That doesn’t make it any less watchable, by any means.

What lingers longest, though, is the film’s central conceit: that this doomed romance didn’t just break Jane Austen’s heart, but built her career. It’s a seductive bit of myth-making, watching heartbreak curdle into art right before your eyes, Tom’s charm and unavailability calcifying into the template for Darcy, Wentworth, and every other unattainable Austen hero. Whether or not it happened this way, the film makes you want to believe it did - that every biting line Austen ever wrote about love and money had a real face.

3.5 out of 5 Stars