Emma. Discussed.
As another anticipated adaptation of an Attic favorite, the release of Autumn De Wilde's Emma. has been on our radar for quite some time. Now available for streaming, The Attic members finally gather, whether just seen or caught upon its theatrical release, and discuss our thoughts on the film.
Photo by Zoë G. Burnett
“It’s such a happiness when good people get together.”
About a month since the US premier of Emma., few of us could have imagined the disarray in which the world now finds itself. With theaters and everything else summarily shutting down, one small consolation is that many of us at the Attic were able to see Emma. sooner than expected, as it’s now been given early wide release on online streaming platforms. While we’re all seeking some kind of structure, the precise aesthetic formatting of this new adaptation is only one of the film’s many points of discussion. Although most critics praise its intentional artificiality as a satirical motif, others consider the literal affectations to be unbelievably sterile, and some ask if we really needed another Austen reboot.
Like the subject of the Attic’s previous roundtable discussion, Little Women, Emma has been released in many screen formats. Half a dozen of these have come out since most of us were born: Romola Garai’s BBC series (2009), the iconic Clueless (1995) starring Alicia Silverstone, and the subsequent Goop (1996), to name a few. Whether one has read the original text or not, the story’s absurdity and romance continues to delight those seeking to suspend reality for a couple of hours. From our social distancing rest nests, Attic contributors are writing in to discuss Autumn de Wilde’s Emma in all her forms, and outfits.
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Photography by Autumn de Wilde.
So Ladies, what do we think?
Olivia Gündüz-Willemin: I finally got to see the new Emma. last week after it was released on Apple TV. My husband and I had been planning a weekend daytrip to the German part of Switzerland to see it in mid-March, but like everywhere else, we went into lockdown first. Emma. was actually the first thing we watched on our new TV in our new flat, and I’m so glad it was because it was quite frankly perfect. Its aestheticism was everything I needed it to be, probably more visually stimulating than any period drama since Marie Antoinette. I loved its wit and its succinct adaptation of Austen’s novel, making everything punchy and to the point. Well cast, exciting, and hilarious, it was everything we need from Emma.
Eliza Campbell: I saw it on what I believe was opening weekend in Britain and loved it! I had been taken with the style since I saw the trailer, it’s like a candy-cane version of Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favourite, and demanded that my family come with me to see it as soon as we possibly could. It made me like Austen a little more (I’m not a fan of much English literature after 1642) and it made me appreciate her style and satire more than I do whenever I’ve attempted to read her novels.
Photography by Autumn de Wilde
Caitlin Carroll: I’ve been excited for this adaptation since the trailer premiered and, with people buzzing about its earlier release overseas, I was thrilled that I finally managed to rent it online this week. While I did enjoy it and aesthetically it looked beautiful, I didn’t fall in love with it. The comedy was golden, but I wasn’t riveted. I wonder if, in trying to capture Austen’s comedy and playfulness, they lost some of the tension?
Rachel Tay: Like Caitlin, I’d wanted to watch the film in theatres for quite a while prior to its release. But of course, it was just my luck that news of the virus outbreak broke in my country a week before Emma was slated to open. Taking care to avoid public spaces, I had to wait another month for the film to be made available online, on-demand, though this also meant that I had sufficient time to give the source novel another reread. What I lost in not being able to fully immerse myself in a so-called proper, cinematic experience was then regained in the juxtaposition of my old and yellowed volumes of Austen with Autumn de Wilde’s pastel-hued reimagination of the Regency era. Quelling any doubts of whether Austen could still be made anew today, this is the modern adaptation that I needed, I think, to wipe clean the sepia-toned lenses by which I’ve now been accustomed to read literature of a certain age.
Raquel Reyes: Like all memories forged in these times, Emma. will likely live in my brain forever as the last grasp at regular events before everything went asunder. While I awaited the release with such similar anticipation as I saw everyone in my life await the release of Little Women, my small town was perhaps one of the last places on Earth to get the film, and so I only finally saw it in theaters about three weeks ago. Panic hadn’t set in here just yet, but would over the next 48 hours, and so that happened to be my last outing before deciding to voluntarily self-isolate. I think as far as last meals go, Emma. served as a veritable feast, and I’m grateful I was able to receive it in such dramatic fashion as sitting alone in the middle of a theater with reclining leather seats on the last quiet evening of 2020. All this to say, I adored it. I haven’t stopped thinking of it since — the costumes, the set design, the scenery, the casting, the dialog, the slapstick — every bit of perfection from Autumn De Wilde and Eleanor Catton, both favorites of mine for years now. Having just learned the DVD will be available in about a month, I fully intend to purchase and rewatch for all of eternity.
Zoë G. Burnett: As you all know, I loved it. Pacing, cast, sense of humor, production and costume design. Even the soundtrack, to which a woman sitting next to my friend and I was singing along. Austen brings out all kinds. Like Raquel mentioned, this was the last film I saw before the theaters all shut down. Spring tends to come late to my part of the world (it’s freezing and pouring outside as I’m typing), and when I think about Emma. it’s like a promise of what’s to come. Weather-wise, at least. I’m holding out for the Blu-ray before a second viewing.
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Emma. (2020).
Any misgivings?
OGW: My only misgiving is that while the film is aesthetic perfection, I didn’t feel as much as past adaptations made me feel. The 2009 miniseries is one that I’ve rewatched time and again over the years and that is perhaps a little less biting in its humor (though no less funny), but that sent my hopeless romantic heart soaring in the way I expect from an Austen adaptation. I can’t say the fact that Emma. didn’t have that effect is a bad thing though – it does a better job at breaking away from clichéed Austen adaptations defaulting to romance and makes humor and social criticism as important as I expect from Emma.
EC: Even though I loved the style I could sense it weighing down some of the more emotional points of the story (although at times it buoyed it up - Knightley throwing off his clothes and collapsing to the floor? Perfection.)
RT: I’m glad it wasn’t just me who found that adaptation somewhat lacking in emotional gravitas. But then again, we can’t always have Austen’s heroines run atop imposing cliffs or stroll through rolling expanses with lofty strings playing in the background, can we? This version of Emma seems far more of a drawing-room comedy than its predecessors, taking place primarily indoors — to show off the film’s stunning set pieces, I suspect — in well-defined spaces, amidst constant company, and under the watchful eye of decorum. I can only guess that the resulting veneer of restrain was due to the director’s move to underscore, stylise, or even parody the etiquette of the period — to play up the characters’ gestures and movements such that they are commensurate with the heavy-handed visual aesthetics of the film. But given the reception of the film, I’m not too sure if this endeavour was really a successful one.
ZGB: Because it is so shamelessly stylized, it’s the type of adaptation that leaves itself open to criticism from those who prefer something more free-form. Although I think it was De Wilde’s distinct artistic vision, some of the clipped dialogue and wry class commentary did smack of Wes Anderson. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, however he’s had such an influence on film in the past twenty or so years, it will be difficult not to absorb some of the visual and dialectic tropes we’ve come to expect from independent filmmakers.
RR: I think this is where I come in with a bit of a bias, as I'm sure my previous answer implies I think the film can do no wrong. Emma is one of my favorite novels, and I don’t see myself disliking any adaptation greatly (I even endured the cringe-fest that was the 2014 YouTube production, Emma Approved). Moreover, I am a huge fan of the cast, especially actor-musician Johnny Flynn, and having watched him beautifully angst his way through a few romantic leads, the luck of watching him play a beloved character such as Mr. Knightley was one I still can’t believe my lucky stars over. In those respects, I don’t feel like the emotion or romance was off point, but I can acquiesce that I walked into it with more than my share of allowance. I will say though, that like Olivia I have watched the 2009 series many times, and one thing I was sad to see left out here that I enjoyed there was a formal resolution for Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill. I realize they become secondary once their engagement is announced, but at least 2009 gave us a scene of the two couples sharing friendship at Harriett’s wedding!
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Emma. (2020).
If you’ve read the novel, how does this or any of the adaptations measure up? Do you prefer one to the other?
OGW: I’ve read Austen’s novel a couple of times, at different ages (you can find an early days Attic piece from me on finding humor in Austen rereads here), and something I love about Emma is that it can be adapted in so many different ways. In fact, I think it’s one of the Austen stories most blessed in good adaptations. This most recent Autumn de Wilde adaptation is perfection. The 2009 miniseries is fantastic. Clueless is a flawless modern retelling. Even the lesser known adaptations – a 1996 tv film starring Kate Beckinsale (yes, released the same year as the better-known Gwyneth Paltrow version) is still pleasant to watch and was actually my first exposure to Austen of any kind. Clearly, it was successful. So I personally can’t say I necessarily prefer one adaptation to another. Rather, I love them all for different reasons and the different aspects of the novel they captured. I do however think this 2020 version is critical perfection. It may not be as romantic, but that is indeed the point of Emma after all.
EC: Tried and failed twice, unfortunately. I did watch the 2009 Romola Garai adaptation, however, and I thought that miniseries was good in different ways. I do feel like comparing television adaptations to film adaptations is a bit like comparing apples to oranges, though.
CC: Emma is the Austen novel with the sharpest comedy and this adaptation really runs with that. It emphasized the absurd: Mr. Knightley’s clothes-throwing fit, Miss Bates chasing Emma around a shop, and Mr. Woodhouse’s constant fear of cold drafts. However, Clueless is my favorite Emma adaptation. Many of the traditional adaptations, in trying to show the dangerous charm Emma has, end up overextending, making Emma’s brattiness so overt that Highbury’s universal praise for her rings false. Clueless’s Cher, not trapped by the tiered class structure or unspoken rules of uppercrust decorum, embodies Emma’s warmth and kindness that can’t always shine through in the stiffer period pieces.
RT: I was once told in an undergraduate seminar on Jane Austen that Clueless is, in fact, widely known by Janeites as one of the best and most faithful of Austen adaptations, because the seemingly whimsical genre of a teenage rom-com lends itself particularly well to the source text’s idiosyncratic style. Nonetheless, being a strong proponent of the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (no thanks to Keira Knightley), I was unconvinced for a while. It was only when we started to analyse the scene in which Cher goes on a shopping spree to clear her head that everything began to click. Yes, the social hierarchies of Austen’s novel do map quite cleanly onto the social hierarchies of a typical high school cafeteria. But what is more impressive is how Cher’s voiceover seems so characteristic of rom-coms that viewers hardly suspect that it works, too, as a means of replicating the free-indirect style of Austen’s prose. It is this unobtrusive slip into interiority — a move that has often proven difficult to translate on screen — that has long afforded Austen’s readers such an effectual glimpse into her characters’ humorous but insightful self-reflexivity, just as it is this sense of self-awareness that also makes Austen’s brattiest protagonist so humane, sincere, and adorable. It is for this reason — the fact that Clueless manages to convey to us the uncertainty that lies beneath Cher’s facade of assuredness — I think, that Amy Heckerling’s contemporary take on Emma remains one of the most complex and well-liked today.
ZGB: One adolescent summer I read all of Austen, cover to cover, which means that it’s now stewed into my brain like a Regency cottagecore mélange. I remember laughing at Emma most, and had a similar self-awakening to her less attractive personality traits as many privileged young men have had reading Great Expectations. As I’ll probably not re-read it, I’m happy to have the visual summary. This adaptation was pared down enough that it was easy to get through the two hours and change of it, whereas I couldn’t devote the time to watch the series again, and I really just can’t look at Gwenyth Paltrow anymore. Clueless doesn’t quite capture the same mood for me, yet it’s right up there with First Wives Club (1996) and Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion (1997) when I need a 90s glow-up movie.
RR: I have read the novel, as well as reread it early this year while I awaited the film adaptation’s release. As I said before, there truly isn’t a wrong adaptation of the novel for me, but I will confirm that this year’s version is perhaps my favorite, purely for the perfect alignment of every other element and aesthetic that fell into place for its production. Like so many here though, I will also add that an insurmountable amount of my heart belongs to Clueless. As a child of the 90s growing up in Southern California, Cher was everything I ever wanted to be, and not only in the film but subsequent television series as well, recasting be damned. Every reference, every emotion... I could only hope to grow up with such a lively social calendar and witty repartee. Sadly, as my teen years set in at the dawn of the mid 2000s, it did not all turn out the same, but Clueless, and the local mall, were always there.
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Emma. (2020).
What were your thoughts on the more corporeal additions to Wilde’s version, namely bums and nosebleeds?
OGW: Frankly, I loved it. The Austen universe is almost always perceived as being almost sex-less and that just clearly isn’t the case. I particularly loved the nosebleed for being a dramatic but aggressively human reaction to shock and overwhelming emotion. Just so good.
EC: Loved it! I honestly wish there had been more interspersed throughout the film. It felt like a lovely nod to the true period and a little joke with the audience who might have expected a rather starched adaptation from some of the marketing.
CC: This film clearly delighted in skewering expectations about period pieces. Showing how complicated some of their clothes were, the characters stripping down to nothing for a mere wardrobe change and requiring servants to do so, pokes fun at how seriously everyone takes their outward appearance when, at the end of the day, you can have a nosebleed and ruin all that careful maintenance. I also appreciated that Mr. Knightley’s grand attempt at romance resulted in a temporary refusal, Emma apologizing to Mr. Martin, and a very unexpected nosebleed.
Pride & Prejudice (2005).
RT: Inasmuch as I appreciated the nosebleed (it brought such levity to what could otherwise be construed as another mundane, formulaic confession scene), as a fan of Joe Wright’s adaptation of P&P, all I have to say is: More!! Hands!!!
ZGB: Although it could have been perceived as fan service, I appreciated a bit of nudity in the context of going about one’s day-to-day. For a film otherwise so organized, it was refreshing to remind the audience that these characters needed assistance for almost every task. It was one of the few times they were regularly touched by another person, especially one of inferior status. They didn’t wear underwear, and everyone had chamber pots that needed to be emptied! We’re only usually reminded of this in Austen when a character falls below their station, resulting in them having to do things like wash their own backs? Also, please read Constance Grady’s article on Regency clothing sex, you won’t regret it.
RR: YES. That article. Everyone read it. The only thing I think is an overreach is when Grady refers to the nosebleed as a “deflowering,” as I’ve read in multiple places that Catton purely wrote it in as a visceral example of these characters’ humanity amidst the sugary restraint of the era and film’s visuals. Like everyone, I do think it comes at the perfect moment, a contrast to what might typically be played out as a perfect fairytale moment in any other Austen adaptation, and which I think Austen herself would have appreciated. Perhaps my favorite trivia about this whole thing is the rumor that Anya Taylor Joy was able to summon it on cue.
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Autumn de Wilde directing actors on set, Liam Daniel/Focus Features.
Do we really need any more Austen adaptations?
OGW: I mean, do we need air? I think we as a society or at least we as part of a subset of book-loving Austenites will need more Austen adaptations so long as storytelling exists. One of the beauties of Austen’s works is that they remain universally appealing more than two hundred years after her death, and I think that’s the case because they lend themselves so well to adaptation and retelling. I didn’t think we needed another adaptation of Emma before this one, but Autumn de Wilde and Eleanor Catton did such a splendid job with it that I’m thrilled to say I was wrong. And to even the playing field, I think that so long as there are new Shakespeare adaptations in the world – whether through films or plays, we need more Austen ones. They’re not the same genre or medium or era or any of that – I know – but the two of them have done the most in creating beautifully-worded stories and characters in the English language, and we need them to keep going and adapt to our new worlds.
EC: Austen’s work feels like a world that people never tire of drawing from (like Shakespeare or Dickens). It’s clearly captured centuries of public imagination and I feel like if you can tell the story in a new and inventive way then what is there to stop you? Period dramas seem to be entering a new era where script writers and directors want to add the humour back in and beat the audience around the head with how funny our ancestors could be (the recent David Copperfield springs to mind). Not to tempt fate but I’d love to see a new adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that honed in on the satire in the way Emma. does. I love the idea that Wilde was setting the film apart, placing a little quirk on the end as a nod to the quirks inside the film. As for future adaptations, I don’t think people will ever tire of re-imagining Austen. Maybe Emma will get the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies treatment and we’ll have Emma and Werewolves in a few years.
CC: It’s funny how much of an eyeroll Austen adaptations get when faced with the sheer number of action movie reboots. While Austen definitely has a set audience, the Austen books are each so unique that it’s hard to lump them together. So many Austenites have passionate, almost vitriolic, claims to their favorite book because of those differences. Likewise, the films, even adaptations of the same book, feel alien to one another. The 2005 Pride and Prejudice, passionate and sweepingly romantic, irks a lot of book fans for the creative liberties it takes. Some people prefer the BBC miniseries of Sense and Sensibility over the classic with Emma Thompson. I myself can’t stand the BBC Persuasion with Sally Hawkins, but adore the awkward 1995 film. Many books fans dislike every Mansfield Park adaptation and anxiously await a good one. Doing an innocent Tumblr search shows how cleanly the recent Sandition series has divided Austen fans. Whether it’s a big-budget film or a BBC miniseries, the atmosphere and the focus always change. Austen’s world is grand and people cling to specific parts of those stories, so obviously a visual medium will have to spurn some aspects of the book in order to emphasize others. There will always be a director, writer, or producer who will want to bring their take to the screen.
RT: Having spent a large part of the past month of voluntary social distancing watching Korean dramas, I’ve noticed that they’re all variations on a theme — a theme that Austen herself has created and mastered over two centuries ago. And yet, stories of romances that overcome class, prejudices, and misfortune remain popular as ever. Do we need more Austen adaptations then? Perhaps we don’t always need an adaptation of Emma or Persuasion in name — there certainly are other novels that deserve the screen time anyway — but I don’t think we can ever escape the bind of Austen’s (anti-)Romantic sensibilities, not especially when we find ourselves increasingly straddling the oppositions of the heart and mind today.
ZGB: If the adaptations continue in a more revisionist vein, I’ll have no objections. Within Austen’s body of work there are so many opportunities to reinterpret her stories, and not all of them have to be set in the Regency period. Because societal expectations and norms of women in the media haven’t changed all that much since the nineteenth century (screams internally), there’s ample space for versions that incorporate people of other races and economic backgrounds. I’m also a fan of movies like Austenland (2013), written by fans that lovingly break down the stereotypes about Austen adaptations while still adhering to her basic story structure. Because, let’s be real, we all want to end up with the Darcy reenactor who’s s a history professor in real life and is also JJ Feild.
RR: To quote Olivia, “do we need air?” I think overall I agree with everyone’s takes. Has anyone asked if we need another Bond film ever? I think if Jane Austen fans ran the gamut of action fans, comic-con attendees, and probably just bros in general, lining up at all hours of dawn, days in advance to buy tickets to each release, I doubt we’d even have to ask this question. Still, just because we are a more organized bunch doesn’t mean we don’t deserve the productions that set our hearts aflame and have us screaming in anticipation at every trailer. I think we need all of the Austen adaptations, and in all forms possible. Like Caitlin said, every fan has that quirk, that detail that calls to them directly, and for each of those we need access. We don’t need them all to look alike, or even come from the same period director just because they’ve done any others, but I think if anything, a variety will invite more fans that wouldn’t normally be interested in drama or literature to begin with, and be a window to finding all of, or at least one Austen story that resonates with them most. If you build it they will come.
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Emma. (2020).
Suddenly it’s once again impolite to touch others unless given clear permission and heavily supervised. Which Regency habits can we refashion for life in the time of COVID-19?
OGW: Personally, I want to see coded use of fans brought back into fashion. We’re carrying them again in the summertime, so why not learn to communicate through them again? Also, would not be opposed to casual usage of gloves coming back. I’m sure I’m not the only one whose fight against their germaphobic tendencies has completely failed with the current crisis, and I can’t say I’d complain if we all started wearing thin gloves again. But like, fashionably.
EC: Standing two metres apart under a blooming horse chestnut tree or rainy gazebo and confessing deep romantic feelings sounds good to me.
CC: I would love to attend balls. As a poor dancer myself, I appreciate dances with very specific steps that everyone does together, so I can’t screw it up.
RT: Letters. Well, this isn’t exactly a habit strictly restricted to the Regency era, but it is nonetheless one that has gone out of fashion over time. Having never gotten the hang of emails and preferring something that can be held and collected, I’d love to bring back the slow practice of letter-writing today, not only as something to occupy our long and lethargic days with, but as an intermediary of interpersonal touch — a simple means of giving others a token of oneself even as one is isolated from them.
ZGB: I second Olivia in bringing back gloves as casual fashion, add standing at least six feet apart for courtship, and less PDA overall. Save it for your private chambers.
RR: I’ve always been a fan of coordinated outfits, from matching coats to shoes and accessories, even if worn repeatedly across different looks but just generally the acceptance of a more fully rounded wardrobe. Give me your summer bonnets and layered dresses and festive cloaks and floor length house robes. Though I’d settle for alllll of the above.
Emma. (2020).
Olivia Gündüz-Willemin is Editor-in-Chief of The Attic on Eighth. She is dedicated to reading her way through the world and trying to stay as calm as possible.
Eliza Campbell is Culture Editor at the Attic on Eighth. When she’s not reading, writing, or in a rehearsal room she loves to sit in galleries, libraries, and coffee shops listening to period drama soundtracks and watching the world go by.
Caitlin Carroll is a writer, bookseller, and paralegal based in New England. When she's not reading or writing, she's loudly arguing about books and drinking tea.
A fervent turtleneck-wearer and an unrepentant hot coffee-addict, Rachel Tay is the ideal self-parodying Literature student, and the complete anti-thesis to tropical life in Singapore, where she was born and raised. She is a frequent contributor and resident illustrator at The Attic on Eighth.
Raquel Reyes is Creative Director at The Attic on Eighth. She enjoys styling photo shoots, old fashioned cocktails, and reading every book published on a single topic she can find.
Zoë G. Burnett is a Contributing Editor and Film Columnist for The Attic on Eighth. She is currently editing her first novel, and trying not to go broke while expanding her vintage clothing collection.
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