Tag: Ang Lee

Sense and Sensibility (1995)

Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet are superb in probably the greatest Austen adaptation on film, Sense and Sensibility

Director: Ang Lee

Cast: Emma Thompson (Elinor Dashwood), Kate Winslet (Marianne Dashwood), Alan Rickman (Colonel Brandon), Hugh Grant (Edward Ferrars), Greg Wise (John Willoughby), Gemma Jones (Mrs Dashwood), Harriet Walter (Fanny Dashwood), James Fleet (John Dashwood), Robert Hardy (Sir John Middleton), Elizabeth Spriggs (Mrs Jennings), Imogen Stubbs (Lucy Steele), Hugh Laurie (Mr Palmer), Imelda Staunton (Mrs Palmer), Emilie Francoise (Margaret Dashwood), Tom Wilkinson (Mr Dashwood)

The world of Austen adaptations stands on two pillars – and both of them date from 1995. One is the BBC Pride and Prejudice, the other this luminous adaptation of Austen’s first novel, written by and starring Emma Thompson. It’s hard to pull together a review when a film pretty much plays its hand perfectly: and that’s exactly what Sense and Sensibility does. The film is a complete delight, in which Thompson takes surprisingly large liberties with many of the details of the novel, but brings to the screen a version that never once loses the spirit and heart of Austen’s work. It’s an immensely impressive achievement, and one of the finest literary adaptations ever made.

After the death of Mr Dashwood (Tom Wilkinson), the Dashwood estate passes into the hands of his son John (James Fleet) and John’s ambitious wife Fanny (Harriet Walter), leaving his second wife (Gemma Jones) and their daughters sensible Elinor (Emma Thompson), passionate Marianne (Kate Winslet) and giddy schoolgirl Margaret (Emilie Francoise) suddenly homeless. However, this does bring Fanny’s gentle and kind brother Edward Ferrars (Hugh Grant) into Elinor’s life, and an unspoken romance builds between the pair. There is passion in the air for Marianne at their new home, when she is rescued from a fall in the rain by the dashing Willoughby (Greg Wise). But are there secrets in the pasts of both men that could threaten the sisters’ happiness? And how did Willoughby’s life intersect with the reserved Colonel Brandon (Alan Rickman)?

Thompson’s superbly written script is a faultless adaptation that makes not a single poor choice, and expands and enriches several characters (in particular the three men) to great effect. Thompson not only brings much of the humour and wit in Austen to the fore – the film is frequently very funny – she also understands here truth and tenderness. Which is why the film is so beloved: it’s a film overflowing with empathy and heart for its characters which builds the emotional investment as skilfully as it does the comedy. It culminates in a proposal scene which I don’t think has ever not placed a lump in my throat.

To list all the excellent adaptation ideas would take forever so I’ll use one example. The film wisely expands much of the early character interactions, in particular deepening and exploring the early meeting between Elinor and Edward. A section that takes up barely one of the book’s (very short) chapters here fills the first 20 minutes of the film. It’s vital as it superbly establishes the natural warmth and intimacy between these two, and their perfectly complementing personalities.

It also allows Grant – in one of his most romantically winning performances – to display some deeply endearing light comedy, as well as establishing Edward as a thoughtful, sympathetic and decent man, who forms bonds quickly with all the family (especially young Margaret) through his genuineness. It also keeps us rooting for a relationship – and for a character – who the film often has to leave off screen for vast stretches, and leaves us in no doubt that his (later revealed) engagement to Lucy Steele (a woman he does not love, and who is interested in him solely for his position) comes from the same motives of decency, duty and the desire to do the right thing.

If that’s an example of one of Thompson’s most successful changes in her adaptation, she also unerringly identifies the things it’s most important to keep. Just like the novel, the film places the warmth of the sisters’ relationship at its heart. Helped by the natural chemistry and ease between Thompson and Winslet, the film carefully contrasts the personalities of these two sisters (one sensible and reserved, the other spontaneous and passionate) but takes no sides and also shows the sisters themselves are united by their love for each other. The film frequently features scenes of confidence and intimacy between the two, and continually brings us back to each other as the key relationship in their lives. It also shows how both need to meet in the middle ground: Elinor needs some of Marianne’s sensibility, just as Marianne needs to take on some of Elinor’s sense.

Although sense would not have necessarily helped Marianne uncover the dangerous selfishness of Willoughby. Perhaps the only wrong call in the BBC Pride and Prejudice (like most adaptations of that novel), is that it makes the rogueish Wickham insufficiently handsome and too blatantly smarmy from the start, tipping the audience the wink that this man can’t be trusted. Not so here, with Greg Wise giving Willoughby so much charm, regency handsomeness, dash and warmth that you would not imagine for a moment he could be anything but what he seems. He makes a clear contrast with Marianne’s other suitor, the older, more distant Brandon – superbly played by Alan Rickman – whose qualities of kindness and decency are hidden behind his coolness and lack of flash (Rickman is, again, wonderful here as a man hoping against hope for  a second chance at love).

But then the film is filled with perfectly cast actors. Thompson is a brilliant and natural fit for Elinor (even if she is too old for the part, something she acknowledged herself) giving her acres of emotional torment under an exterior she must keep calm and controlled for the sake of her family. Winslet became a star for her enchantingly free-spirited performance, grounded by a warmth and desire for the best for others that keeps the character from ever becoming irritating or overbearing.

Among the rest, there isn’t a bum note. Walter is hilarious as the washpish Fanny, Hardy full of bonhomie as Sir John. Elizabeth Spriggs is perfect as a gossipy old maid who is a pillar of strength when her friends are ill-treated. Hugh Laurie is hilarious in a gift of a part as the dry, cynical Mr Palmer whose nearly every line is laugh-out-loud funny, but who also proves his nobility in a crisis. Staunton is equally good as his flighty, mismatched wife. Imogen Stubbs brings out the simpering manipulative scheming of Lucy Steele perfectly.

The whole is bought together expertly by wonderfully paced and constructed directing by Ang Lee, whom it’s surprisingly easy to over-look. Lee was a considered an odd choice for the film – he barely spoke English at the time and was a stranger to Austen. But the film is an inspired match for him, tapping into his sensitivity, the warm eye he brings to families and their dramas, and also the observer’s wit he brings to social comedy and dynamics. Lee also brings an outsider’s eye to England – it’s a film that looks wonderful, but not simply romantic, with Lee not afraid of a stormy sky or a muddy street. Interiors are shot with a candlelit beauty, and there is a sense throughout of all this taking place in a real world. Patrick Doyle’s perfectly judged score also works wonders to help create the mood.

Sense and Sensibility is a masterful film and a, perfect adaptation of Austen. It’s hard to imagine that it will be bettered for some time. Indeed, like the BBC Pride and Prejudice, it feels like it has made all other adaptations of the book redundant. With a brilliant adaptation, superb acting, sensitive and insightful direction and a true understanding of the spirit and heart of Austen, this is one of the greatest adaptations ever made.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)


Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi defy gravity and danger in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Director: Ang Lee

Cast: Chow Yun-Fat (Li Mu Bai), Michelle Yeoh (Yu Shu Lien), Zhang Ziyi (Yu Jiaolong), Chang Chen (Luo), Cheng Pei-pei (Jade Fox), Suhung Lung (Sir Te), Li Fazeng (Governor Yu), Gao Xi’an (Bo), Wang Deming (Prefect Cai Qiu), Li Li (May)

Ang Lee is the sort of director who can turn his hand to anything – is there a director with a more eclectic CV? From costume dramas to comic book films, coming-of-age 1970s stories to gay cowboys, he seems able to do everything. But the film that cemented him as a blockbuster director was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, an awe-inspiring, visually stunning, beautifully made martial arts film, told with a poetic grandiosity that opened the West’s eyes to a whole genre of film-making.

Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun-Fat) is looking to give up the warrior lifestyle, and surrenders his legendary sword “Green Destiny”. Mu Bai asks Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh), a professional bodyguard, to guard the sword on its way to its new owner. Mu Bai and Shu Lien have long held feelings for each other, but her late fiancée being Mu Bai’s best friend led them to never act on (or truly speak of) their love. The sword is stolen by a mysterious warrior, soon revealed to be the daughter of the local governor, Yu Jiaolong (Zhang Ziyi). Jiaolong has been trained by Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei), who murdered Mu Bai’s former master. Gradually the sword becomes the centre of a complex clash between these characters, of conflicting emotions and desires.

Despite its gravity-defying visuals, what Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is really about – and perhaps why it works as well as it does – is contrasting the principles and standards of two different generations. Li Mui Bai and Yu Shu Lien have both lived lives governed by restraint and self-denial, not least in denying their own love. Jiaolung and Luo, on the other hand, are far more willing to act on their emotions – even if these lead to destructive consequences. It’s the human stories like this that ground the drama and make it something with heart that you can invest in.

Jiaolong isn’t willing to tame her wild spirit, and Lee’s film explores within it the nature of mentor-mentee relationships, and the level of confinement that comes from training: Jade Fox wants to control Jiaolong, and both resent each other for the restrictions they have placed on each other. Mu Bai wants to train Jiaolong – but she doesn’t want to submit herself to a master. Mu Bai has spent his whole life searching for Jade Fox to avenge his master. The shadows that masters place over their apprentices hang over the whole movie.

It’s also a refreshing movie that places women so firmly at the centre. Its central figure is Jiaolong, a young woman with an instinctive mastery of the art of Wudang – and she has the fiery defiance and impulsiveness you would expect of a traditional male figure. Jiaolong is a loving but damaged figure, confused and poisoned by Jade Fox’s resentment. She can love with great feeling and also feel a prickly resentment towards the same person – a feeling she expresses time and again. Zhang Ziyi is terrific in the role, an electric screen presence, it’s impossible to take your eyes off her.

She is contrasted throughout the film with Shu Lien, expertly played by Michelle Yeoh. Shu Lien has lived years of control over her feelings, but carries great reserves of emotion. Yeoh’s eyes are crowded with emotion, and she conveys a great sharpness. Shu Lien is a shrewd, kind but reserved character – someone who realises too late the price she has paid. For all the combat in the film, you feel that the real clash is between these two women and how they have chosen to live their lives.

In the lead male roles, Mu Bai is played with a serene calm by Chow Yun-Fat. Yun-Fat is so reserved that he’s not always as interesting as he could be – despite having a few beautifully played moments. Chang Chen as Lo is a more conventional romantic figure, but he has a lot of charisma – and it’s also a refreshing balance that he is both the more traditionally “female” character in the relationship, but also feels like a worthy partner for Jianlong.

But the thing that makes the film really memorable is its extraordinary beauty. Ang Lee is a master at marrying up marvellous, dynamic images with intelligent, thematic plotting. The battle scenes are of course the most memorable, and they are truly striking, wonderfully choreographed by Yuen Woo-ping. These defy gravity and are extraordinarily graceful in timing and movement – as striking and genuinely beautiful to watch as they are exhilarating. They look marvellous and Lee films them with a disciplined simplicity to allow us to appreciate their beauty. 

On top of that, the overall design and feel of the film is wonderful. Every scene is carefully framed and beautifully composed. Tan Dun’s score is marvellous (amazingly the whole lot was composed, produced and recorded in just two weeks) and really helps to strength the emotions in the scenes themselves. Lee’s masterful direction never loses track of the emotions and relationships that underpin the action sequences, and makes them develop and grow organically from the story, rather than fight scenes for the sake of it.

Crouching Tiger works because it has a strong story, while showing some beautiful and breathtaking fight sequences, the likes of which many people had never seen before. It’s a well-paced movie, that packs a lot into a tightly controlled run time and its thematic richness gives every scene something to reward the viewer with. The real hero here is Ang Lee. Lee is not just a director who can deliver action, he is a man with an intimate emotional understanding. In particular, he has shown in his films an empathy and warmth towards women, and an appreciation of their worldview, in a way few other male directors have managed. Crouching Tiger still stands up – it’s still strikingly different, well acted, looks gorgeous and has a lot of emotional investment.