I haven’t actually read Jane Eyre. People often give me a hard time about that. I suppose that fact is to my detriment in more ways than those merely social now, seeing as I don’t have knowledge of the source material that has inspired so many filmic adaptations. I went into this latest version of Jane Eyre, directed by Cary Fukunaga, knowing only that I could probably expect a feisty heroine, as well as Michael Fassbender.
I suppose one could also expect without much fear of disappointment quite a bit of sexual longing writhing within the shadows of some looming gothic castle. As well as underneath the many layers of clothing worn by the inhabitants of said dark and looming castle, a castle probably growing out of rolling hills of the green and grey English countryside. Jane Eyre does not disappoint on any of those points. In fact, I’d venture to say that any vampire-loving authors out there could take a few tips from Ms Brontë and Mr Fukunaga when it comes to matters of forbidden love between a brooding, tortured man and a virginal, “small and plain” yet strong-willed girl.
We’re introduced to our heroine, the eponymous Jane (Australia’s Mia Wasikowska; Alice in Wonderland), as she races and stumbles through a dark and stormy countryside. Distraught, probably near death, it’s a dynamic (and surprising) opening to the film. It seems indicative then, of the myriad emotions that bubble and squirm underneath the surface – occasionally exploding out – from that point on for Jane. Through flashbacks, we’re told of her Dickensian childhood. She endures physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her father’s family (including Sally Hawkins, not looking nearly as cheerful as she usually does), then at a cold and dark charity school where her best friend dies. Grim, no?
The young Jane grows up and finds work as a governess at Thornfield, and it’s there that she meets Edward Rochester (Michael Fassbender; X-men First Class). It’s also within the walls of Thornfield that things really begin to spice up. I’ve heard that in Brontë’s novel Mr Rochester is described as being no spring chicken, no spring chicken that may have been hit with the ugly stick. I’ll tell you this, Michael Fassbender is neither one of these things. Even if he’s been hit with the opposite of the ugly stick, Fassbender has in spades what it takes to be a Byronic hero. He glowers, he’s alluring in a threatening kind of way, he looms over the tiny Mia Wasikowska. He does “tortured” like no one I’ve seen in a while. The energy he exudes is at once menacing and full of lust; the tension between he and Wasikowska can more often than not be described as palpable, yet never forced.
Speaking of Miss Wasikowska, she manages to find an admirable balance between being a “small and plain” girl, appearing as if she could be snapped in two like a twig, yet also being every bit a strong-willed, virtuous and intelligent heroine of this proto-feminist story. Jane is strong in her convictions, longs for an independent life, and never bends in her morals – even if it means sacrificing something she loves. Wasikowska manages to carry Jane Eyre, playing the eponymous heroine with restraint. That being said, one can see all those emotions, be it anger, pridem sadness or lust, about to crack through her still exterior.
Cary Fukunaga’s adaptation is one that is suitably restrained, with has a vague sense of foreboding, that something might go wrong at any moment. It’s all repressed emotions, sexual longing, self-denial, and Rochester’s dark past and secrets. I don’t know how faithful it is, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t get swept up in the drama and beauty of this particular version. Jane Eyre is elegantly shot, gorgeous to look at (and that’s completely disregarding how good Mr Fassbender looks in period get-up). I will say this though, Fukunaga would be wise to put his skills to use on a horror project. I’m sure the result would be one of the finest of the genre in recent years, such was the suspense built during a number of scenes. I had my scarf up to my cheeks and half-expected a ghoul of some sort to jump out at Jane, a la Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (now that’s a book I have read). Fukunaga’s Jane Eyre has all the ingredients — tortured older man, chaste and feisty heroine, the English countryside, pretty dresses, a love story — of a period drama that one would expect, yet none of the snooze factor many of my friends would argue also comes with it. In fact, it’s really rather exciting, as well as quite moving.
If it’s any indication of my enjoyment of the film, then let it be said that I’ve since bought Jane Eyre in book format.
Follow the author Rebecca Mery on Twitter.
