First, I'm a die hard
Jane Eyre fan. I feel the same way about
Jane Eyre that hordes of teenagers (and adults) feel about
Harry Potter. I own five movie versions of
Jane Eyre, and I watch all of them. Often. I read the book every few years and have since I was eleven. It's pretty safe to say this is my favorite fiction book of all time. In my first published novel, I made my hero an actor just so he could play Edward Rochester and I could throw in the library scene from
Jane Eyre -- which is rarely done in movies (to my great disappointment). I have Aidan, in that first published book, drive a Veyron because it sounds like Varens -- the little girls name in
Jane Eyre. So, basically, I'm a
Jane Eyre groupie. If
Jane Eyre were a rock group, I'd stalk them. They'd probably have a restraining order on me. (Just kidding, of course.)
I first heard there was going to be another
Jane Eyre movie about two years ago. The director was Cary Fukunaga. I didn't recognize the name. However, in retrospect, I should have interpreted the first three letters of his last name as a bad omen. Fuk. I've waited for this since I heard that first bit of movie news. It did not play locally, so I had to wait for the DVD. I pre-ordered it, and it arrived today. I was so excited, I immediately brought out the popcorn and Milk Duds (another bad omen), and slipped this baby into the player. I pulled up an overstuffed chair and sat in breathless anticipation.
This retelling of
Jane Eyre has dark, moody shots; beautiful cinematography; compelling, immensely-watchable actors, (Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre and Michael Fassbender as Edward Rochester) yet the word that comes to mind when I think of it is... stingy. If you've ever read a Reader's Digest condensed version of a classic, then you'll know what this was like. It's as if the director got to a scene, began it, then stopped in his haste to get to the next one. I envision an old sergeant of mine.
"Okay people. Okay. Hurry up. You don't need to eat that. We ain't got all day. You can taste it later. We've got places to go, things to do."
The director repeatedly yanked me out of one scene and then dropped me into the next before finishing the previous one. Just. Splat. This went on from scene to scene. I felt utterly cheated. "Oh, Fuk, what are you doing?" I wanted to yell. (I think I actually did at one point, but I was in such shock, I'm not sure.) Fuk did this through almost the entire movie. Other scenes he just left out entirely. It was so chopped up, so lightning fast -- like a Ginsu Knife commercial -- that I wondered how these two fell in love. I've never wondered that about any previous version of
Jane Eyre in my life! But this went so fast it left me wishing there were commercials -- so it would at least feel like the relationship was drawn out.
The scene of their first meeting fell as flat as Rochester's horse. (Especially when compared to the Masterpiece version.) The only thing scorching in the burning bed scene were the sheets. (Especially compared to the versions from A&E and Masterpiece.) Bringing two people so close together it looks like they're going to kiss does not equal heat. There was just one evening party scene with Jane present, and like every other scene up to that point, if fell short. Mason arrived on the first night of the party for crying out loud! I didn't even see a library. There was no real sense of mystery about what was going on in the house. Grace Poole was a non-entity and didn't show up until after the 'wedding'. Rochester's purpose for bringing Blanche Ingram to Thornfield was never developed, nor was Blanche Ingram for that matter.
The director finally started getting the movie together toward the end. The one scene that captured the essence of
Jane Eyre was the scene between Jane and Rochester after the truth came out. I wish that, and the scenes that followed, could have redeemed this movie. Unfortunately, they just didn't quite pull it off. There was too much lacking in the first half of the movie.
How disappointing. I'm going to dust off my Masterpiece, BBC, and A&E copies -- maybe even that mess with William Hurt (which no longer seems like such a mess after watching this) just so I don't feel quite so cheated. I wanted to watch a new
Jane Eyre and fall in love with it! This could have been so great. It had wonderful actors. Beautiful scenery. Brilliant camera work. Marvelous costumes. Atmospheric lighting. Intelligent dialog. But the direction and editing were so bad that my mouth has been hanging open for two hours, and I can't get it to shut. How can someone so utterly screw up a masterpiece? Oh, Fuk.
I hope this will be like sushi, and I'll develop a taste for it after I've had it a few times.