Last year, a wave of high-profile Jane Austen adaptations was announced to the delight of literary fans worldwide, among them a fresh take on Pride and Prejudice slated for Netflix, and a brand-new cinematic treatment of Sense and Sensibility, Austen’s beloved debut novel first published in 1811, arriving in theaters on October 16. While news of the Netflix Pride and Prejudice project initially sparked a degree of skepticism—given that Joe Wright’s 2005 cinematic masterpiece starring Keira Knightley remains absolute perfection in the eyes of many, and despite the fact that 2005 somehow still marks a staggering 21 years ago—the approach to Sense and Sensibility offered a compelling point of curiosity. After all, the last major feature film adaptation of the novel was the celebrated 1995 version starring Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, Hugh Grant, and Alan Rickman. This left open the important question of how a new generation of filmmakers and actors would carry the torch for Austen’s timeless text.
Stepping into this legacy is a new rendition led by Daisy Edgar-Jones, a project that delivers something remarkably passionate, bordering at times on theatrical violence, while brilliantly reminding audiences of the unique singularity of this specific Austen work. Rather than placing conventional romance squarely at the center of the narrative, this new film serves as a profound and striking ode to sisterhood.
For those uninitiated in the wider world of Austenites, Sense and Sensibility follows the fortunes of Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. Following the sudden death of their father, the sisters, alongside their mother and younger sister, are abruptly consigned to a life of genteel poverty, displaced from their comfortable family home. As they navigate their altered circumstances, Elinor develops deep, restrained feelings for her step-brother-in-law, the quiet and unassuming Edward Ferrars. Meanwhile, Marianne finds herself swiftly and dramatically swept off her feet—literally—by the charming, dashing, and somewhat rakish John Willoughby.
Both young women soon find themselves forcibly separated from their respective romantic interests. For Elinor, the obstacle lies in social expectations and the machinations of Edward’s mother, who expects her son to make a financially advantageous marriage. For Marianne, heartbreak strikes when Willoughby’s wealthy and controlling aunt suddenly calls him away on mysterious business, severing their budding attachment. Bereft, isolated, and with their marriage prospects looking increasingly bleak and hopeless in Regency-era society, the two sisters are left with little more than each other to cling to.
Fittingly, Jane Austen’s original working title for the novel was Elinor and Marianne. True to the author’s initial vision, the heart of the book—and what this new film adaptation captures with such brilliant clarity—is not primarily about the sisters’ respective romantic storylines, but rather the steadfast, intensely intimate, and complex relationship they share with one another.
In this new adaptation, some of the most emotionally charged and passionate scenes transpire directly between Elinor and Marianne. The girls shed tears, exchange fierce words, and raise their voices in manners that ultimately render their fleeting romantic pursuits feel like trifling footnotes by comparison. In the grand scheme of the narrative, Edward and Willoughby’s characters function more as secondary plotlines. It is remarkably over Marianne—and not her own personal romantic struggles—that Elinor, a character normally so composed, laconic, and emotionally guarded, truly breaks down and weeps.
As the male characters inevitably prove to be fickle and unreliable, much like many of the male figures across Austen’s broader literary canon, Elinor and Marianne lean heavily on each other for survival and emotional sustenance. Their relationship is far from idealized or simplistic; neither sister is portrayed as perfect. They harbor secrets from one another, withhold information, and occasionally exchange stinging, hurtful remarks. Yet, despite these flaws and regardless of how far apart they might push one another during times of stubborn pride or grief, they are always inevitably drawn back together when tribulation strikes.
Both lead actors execute their demanding roles with remarkable precision. Daisy Edgar-Jones anchors the film with a grounded, quietly devastating performance as the sensible Elinor. Alongside her, Esmé Creed-Miles delivers a standout interpretation of Marianne, capturing the character’s impulsive, tempestuous, and deeply passionate nature with impressive depth and authenticity.
On the whole, the film takes certain artistic liberties that successfully modernize the material, resulting in a strong and resonant adaptation tailored for today’s young audiences. At the same time, it pays clear, respectful homage to both the iconic 1995 feature film and the beloved 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice. For many viewers, works like the 2005 film served as a primary introduction to the wider world of Jane Austen. Watching this new iteration of Sense and Sensibility rekindles that exact same sense of joy—sparking curiosity about the complex characters and their rigid historical world, while allowing audiences to become entirely swept up in the emotional drama of it all.
Ultimately, the most ardent hope accompanying the release of this film is that it will inspire a new generation of viewers to dive past the screen and discover the enduring brilliance of Austen’s original novel.
