Jane Eyre 2006 Review

Edit May 16, 2018: For updated and added reviews and content, visit my new website Lit Lovers & Corset Laces. 

I had a feeling after posting my new poll that this would win out. I'm happy though, because I've been itching to review this for a while. All I needed was the proper excuse to put my lazy fingers (and brain) to work and pull myself out of this horrible writing lull into which I've fallen. Nothing excites me more than Jane Eyre reviews.

So, to commence my usual off-topic and slightly longwinded preamble, I'll start by saying that this is the first adaption of the novel that I ever saw. Ever. And when I found out that countless others existed, I was about as excited as a little kid overdosed on caffeine (to say the least). The miniseries was running late on the BBC during a sleepless night and I feasted my eyes gladly. I watched the first portion one Sunday, the second part the next, and then immediately ordered the DVD. I'm well versed on every detail of this adaptation. After all, before the 2011 version came and stole my heart, this is what satisfied me most.

                                                                                                        Casting: 

Jane: Ruth Wilson is a perfect choice for various reasons. The duck-like lips, lightly freckled cheeks, and darting eyes are all separate facets of the Jane that I personally visualize. Wilson possesses a unique and "sharp" beauty by which the Jane in my imagination is defined. Her ability to naturally imbue the character with that innate sense of self-respect and autonomy while also managing to capture the vulnerability and loneliness of the character when demanded is, without a doubt, stunning. Her imperfections only arise in the technicalities. She's obviously too mature to pull off being eighteen, too tall to earn the "little" description, and sometimes from certain angles even too extraordinarily stunning to merit the "plain" illustration. But then again, if we Jane Eyre fanatics pay too much attention to Jane's physical attributes then we'll never like an adaptation. Ruth Wilson does, however, do a great credit to the mental and emotional aspects of the character. Her Jane is composed, visually strong, and unafraid of those who try to intimidate her. She maintains all these essences of the character while also managing to make Jane a person that modern women can somehow relate to. The only downside I could find--and perhaps this is just me being picky--is that sometimes Ruth appears much too comfortable with Rochester in their first few conversations. I'm very particular about the first conversations between the two characters in an adaptation because they essentially set the groundwork for the rest of the film or miniseries. Jane is not supposed to be timid, but at the same time I wouldn't describe her as a person completely at ease. She and Rochester are both extremely guarded; jaded by their previous knowledge of a cruel world. By the second conversation I think Ruth's Jane is already getting too familiar with Rochester.

Rochester:
       Like Timothy Dalton and Michael Fassbender, Toby Stephens is much too sexy. Even beneath those brown hair extensions and 19th century muttonchops he is decidedly swoon-worthy. Once again, I make allowances for that. Who doesn't like a little extra sex appeal in a Rochester?
       Toby Stephens is great. He is the "bad boy" Rochester; the actor that reminds the audience again and again that Rochester's record is not squeaky clean. He plays the world-weary cynic perfectly (with extra help from lines like "I've been all over the world, Miss Eyre, and it's vastly overrated"). Toby isn't afraid to dive straight into the character and emphasize aspects of Rochester that other actors chose to gloss over in the majority of other JE adaptations. He boldly signals to the audience that Rochester isn't the image of some morally upright Romantic hero. He takes care to bring the defects of the character to light; his shameful sexual rap sheet, his spoiled and all too flattered ego, and his suave way of manipulating Jane's emotions (seen when Blanche comes to town). I love this projection of Rochester because it creates a stark comparison to the man he gradually becomes when Jane enters his life and alters things. That take captures one of the essential keys of his love for Jane. On the other hand, Stephens' portrayal of Rochester could be taken by some critics as not nearly as deep as it should be. If you don't look at it the way I just described, from the surface all you might see is a natural "pretty boy" persona that over-romanticizes the character. So from the same performance you might gather two completely polarizing viewpoints. This isn't a statement to take away from Toby's portrayal,  but merely a warning not to rely completely on what I've said here.

St. John: 
      Boy, did I love Andrew Buchanan as St. John! He is hands down my favorite portrayal of the character; perhaps because he adds an element to St. John that actually resembles a human being. After all, that is what St. John is. He's a cold, chauvinistic, "holier than thou" human being, but a man nonetheless. Every other actor who has portrayed St. John (to me) has either had about as much personality as driftwood or is cold enough to freeze over the Sahara. And St. John isn't cold. Quite the contrary. "He has a heart; [Jane has] seen it overflowing with passion...he just keeps it buried in stone with a tenacious willpower." Buchanan is that description manifested in reality. When St. John professes his love for Rosamund Oliver, everyone sees that flash of passion and the proof that he is capable of great warmth. In another second, however, he is back to the unbendingly pious antagonist we all love to hate. Great performance.

Others:
    Adele: Annoying. Didn't like this one at all.
    Fairfax: Solid performance. Not my favorite, but very close. A very nice maternal figure.
    Mrs. Reed: Tara Fitzgerald's bitterness permanently marked her as evil in my mind. Great.

Screenplay/Cinematography/Soundtrack/Costumes: 
     This is where the words of praise begin to see a decline. The screenplay is my major qualm about this adaptation. The dialogue is just not faithful enough to the novel. It's much too modernized, and because of the absence of the original language, that extra spark that could have been failed to ignite in this version. Then there's the problem of missing and fabricated scenes. For example, the conversation after Mason's injury, which isn't exactly integral but is definitely something worth keeping, is gone. Then there's the highly controversial leaving scene, which has been moved to Jane's bedroom, stripped of all Bronte's dialogue, and converted to a steamy kissing scene completely unlike the novel. Of course, I love seeing the physical chemistry between Toby and Ruth, but it doesn't do Jane's character justice and artistic license shouldn't go as far to alter such an essential part of the novel in that way. It's especially disappointing to feel so harshly about the screenplay because I enjoyed Sandy Welch's script from the 2004 BBC North and South miniseries and I had my hopes set high.
     There isn't much to say about the cinematography. It isn't very good, but then who really expects it to be? It's a BBC miniseries. Then again, it still could have been better. I did like how the director and camera crew made great use of the landscape surrounding Haddon Hall.
    Soundtrack. I didn't really notice it that much, but once I actually took the time to listen to it I didn't like it. Much too dainty for a gothic novel such as Jane Eyre. However, there are various sound samples during some particularly gothic scenes that change the tone and add an extra scary edge to the miniseries. This is the first adaptation to really take a peak into the "horror story" side of the novel since the 1944 and the 2011 film followed suit.
     Costumes: Ok. Not amazing. Not bad. Once again, were we really expecting much from a low budget miniseries?


     I believe I've already voiced them beneath the individual categories, but just to clarify, my only major problem with this adaption is the screenplay. That's a major letdown, but despite that, the 2006 JE is a solid adaptation. It has, debatably, the largest following of any adaption. A lot of that has to do with placing. This miniseries was released in the prime of a younger generation of Jane Eyre lovers. For lit lovers my age that were too young to appreciate the '96 and '97, the '06 came at a time when we needed it. I'm not the only one who's able to credit the '06 for pointing me to prior adaptions. This is, overall, the JE that ushers to a younger crowd. Toby and Ruth have a raw and realistic emotional chemistry that speaks to everyday people and makes this particular version of the novel one that reminds readers that 19th century literature can still connect to the modern world. Yes, it sacrificed some of the beautiful language in order to prove that point, but it is nonetheless endearing. Like any other adaptation, you have to learn to appreciate it for its strengths.

Please Comment and it's great to be back again. Love, Ari.

P.S: Just for our mutual viewing pleasure...

Jane Eyre 2011 Anniversary Review

Preamble...A very long preamble. 
I know I promised this weeks ago, but I never got around to writing this review because last-minute schedule changes left me with absolutely no time on my hands. I didn't forget, though, and now with the third quarter behind me and the ability to utter a large sigh of relief, I feel much better equipped to write a thorough review.

Perhaps it seems borderline insane to write two reviews on the exact same movie, but I'm determined to make it a tradition on this blog because Jane Eyre 2011 was essentially the catalyst of a major life change for me. (Yes, I know it sounds melodramatic.) A year ago, my family took the trip to Charlotte, North Carolina to celebrate my grandfather's birthday. After doing some cinema research, I was able to ascertain that the (then) new version of Jane Eyre would be premiering at a local art house theatre the very night we came into town, and I desperately begged my parents to let me see it. They sacrificed crashing in their beds after four hours of travel to watch it with me, and for two hours I was mesmerized by Cary Fukunaga's adaptation of Jane Eyre. During the car ride home, I was silent for almost ten minutes straight before an effusive flow of words began gushing out of my mouth.

"It was amazing!"

"Wow!"

"The look he gave her!"

"'Awaken then!'"

After countless exclamations, I paused, expecting some kind of profound remark from one of my parents. All I got was, "I'm glad you liked it." And from my mother: "I liked the other one better. But that beard was hideous."

I had to face it then that my parents would never quite understand the depth of what I saw in Jane Eyre; would never fully be able to comprehend the way reading a piece of English literature was such an indescribable thrill to me; would never be able to hold enthusiastic discourse about the different facets of Rochester and the true significance of St. John.

No one really shared my passion for the novel, or for English literature at all. Yet, I felt the urge to tell someone or find some place where I satisfy my enthusiasm, so I came to Blogger. One of my first posts was a review of the movie, and it set an enriching and cathartic journey in motion that began with only two followers and thirty seven views and has now grown to thirty followers and 2,000 views a month. So by reviewing the film again, I'm not trying to be obsessive (even though that does have a minor hand in it), but rather I'm attempting to show my gratitude for the film, the experience, and to you guys.

Casting: 
Jane: I've revisited this movie several times since that day I wrote that first review, and each time I watch it I'm progressively more convinced of Mia Wasikowska's suitability for the role. I was in love with her then, and left completely awestruck by her ability to infuse outward subtlety into a character so rich with emotion and yet still be able to portray the burning fires beneath the skin. To this day, critics continue to call Mia's performance wooden, but there are just as many who recognize the skill she displays and many were disappointed by her Oscar snubbing. When walking into the theatre last year, I was afraid that I might not be able to see Mia as Jane. Her previous roles in Alice in Wonderland and The Kids are All Right struck me with the fear that I would be scarred by my prior knowledge of her. I was proved wrong, though, and quickly discovered that Mia inhabited the role of Jane Eyre. She becomes the character, and it resonates through every flicker of the eye, gesture of the hand, and movement of her body. Her age makes the casting accurate; her maturity makes it true to the character, and her overall respect for the sanctity of the novel and its protagonist (voiced numerous times in her interviews) adds something that an average actress would not have been able to capture. Jane Eyre really becomes relatable, and even though her performance is remarkable because of its sublime undercurrents, the audience can feel every fluctuation of her emotions.

Rochester: I hadn't been previously acquainted with Michael Fassbender before the announcement that he was slated to play Rochester, so I plunged into weeks of copious research, watching other films he had appeared in and listening to the interviews he gave about his approach to the character. At first, I was ambivalent about the decision to cast someone so attractive in the role, but after seeing the movie I realized why Cary Fukunaga selected him. Fassbender is morphed into a slightly unattractive Rochester, but as the film progresses he becomes more handsome, as if the audience is witnessing his transformation the same way Jane is. Fassbender encompasses many of Rochester's facets: the changeableness, the outright rudeness, the aggression but also the tenderness, the passion, and the flirtatious charm. I'm not saying that he's perfect, however. Fassbender takes Rochester's polar extremes and incorporates each into his performance with moderation. He's not as aggressive, rude, and changeable as the "real" Rochester. Somehow, I preferred this approach to those of previous actors, though. The actors before him tended to focus themselves on one aspect of the character. Orson Welles was the commanding Rochester, George C. Scott was the fatherly Rochester. Michael Jayston was the eccentric one, Tim Dalton was aggressive, and Toby Stephens was sensual. Fassbender didnt execute each of these to the extent the others did, but he balanced them all better than the previous men.

St. John: Even though I loved the way Jamie Bell actually made St. John seem human rather than just an icy clergyman who does nothing to rival Rochester, outwardly, he didn't fit the "Grecian profile" image I might have imagined. Appearances aside, I enjoyed him. Jane once described St. John as not necessarily heartless, but too intent on burying his emotions. I could detect the manifestation of that description in areas of Jamie's performance. In a scene of particularly intimate conversation, he speaks briefly about having fallen in love. His voice becomes soft, his countenance a bit vulnerable. But he turns it off quickly, and follows with the words, "I scorned this weakness. I fought hard against it and I won." My regret is not seeing Jamie enough. St. John's part didn't have much time to develop.

Others: Dame Judi nails Mrs. Fairfax in an underrated performance that got absolutely no attention. But then again, a stellar performance is almost expected from Judi Dench at this point in her spectacular career. Sally Hawkins was lovely (well, as lovely as Miss Reed can be) in the short time she graced the screen. Little Adele was so cute! The Rivers sisters couldn't be more perfectly cast. The only qualm I have is regarding Imogen Poots as Blanche Ingram. Her appearances fit the part without a doubt; she's absolutely stunning. There was still something lacking, however, and it might simply be because the audience didn't see nearly enough of her to recognize her as a real rival for Rochester's affections.

Screenplay/ Cinematography/Soundtrack/Costumes: 
Screenplay: Moira Buffini did not disappoint me. There were some obvious deviations from the book (as is common in every adaptation) but what I appreciated most was how Moira made sure to preserve the dialogue, unlike the 2006. There were a few people with gripes about how she chopped out the gypsy scene and condensed the leaving scene, but if you look at the numerous other adaptations of the novel, you'll realize that none of them really ever incorporated those scenes except for the 4 hour BBC productions. There's also a lot in Moira's script that didn't make it into the final production of the movie because of time constraints. (The movie already pushes two hours as is). For anyone interested in really seeing the genius of Buffini's script, you can purchase the movie tie-in version on kindle or kindle software here. The screenplay is located at the end of the novel. Buffini succeeded in preserving the aspects of the source material that most fans love, but she also added some original ideas that I would have loved to see come to fruition on the screen. What didn't wasn't her fault.

Cinematography: Absolutely breathtaking. This adaptation truly makes cinematography an art that requires adherence to the source material as well. The atmosphere created by the lighting and camera work is realistic and truly visceral. Cary Fukunaga said in multiple interviews that most of the time throughout the movie, no artificial light was used. The cinematographers worked with the shadows and darkness by filming by the light of the fire and candelabras on set. In a film with no voiceovers to give the viewer a clear insight into Jane's thoughts, the filmmakers used her environment as an external manifestation of her feelings. Outdoors, the landscaping is filmed with an artistic but realistic hand that emphasizes Jane's isolation. There is no romantic sweeping camera like that in Pride in Prejudice, but the film work is just as breathtakingly beautiful.

Soundtrack: What can I say? Dario Marianelli is a genius. I bought the entire soundtrack and still listen to it on a regular basis. It's one of my favorites from him. The key to providing music for this film was to mirror Jane's thoughts without overpowering or romanticizing the world she lives in. Marianelli was the perfect person to bring in for the job. You can give all the tracks a listen on Youtube. My favorites were "Awaken", "In Jest or Earnest", and "The Wedding Dress."

Costumes: Nominated for an Academy Award, so obviously they must be good. But one must really take the time to notice the detail to appreciate the artistry.

Negatives:
The one thing that takes away from the film is the swiftness with which it progresses. Grant it, two hours is not a lot to work with when you're condensing a five hundred-page novel. I would have liked to see more time spent on the brutality of Jane's childhood and a little more emphasis placed on her visit back to Gateshead. Two scenes were left out (of the movie, not the script) that were really instrumental in the pacing of Jane and Rochester's relationship. The first was that garden scene in which Rochester gives us some insight into his past with Adele's mother (it's included in the deleted scenes of the DVD). The second was the tearing of the veil, which was also thrown into the deleted scenes package. These clips are both on Youtube as well.


Despite these quirks, this adaptation continues to be my favorite because of how balanced it was. Every aspect of the film worked together in perfect unison. The characters each had perfect chemistry and did great jobs with their parts. The cinematography added an extra aspect to the movie that echoed their performances. The costumes and soundtrack fit flawlessly into the story. Which Jane Eyre adaptation a person likes will always variate based on the personality of the individual, of course. Before I came across this movie, I had submitted to calling the BBC 1983 and 2006 my favorites; the 1983 because of its adherence to the source material, the 2006 because of the chemistry between characters. But when this version came out, I realized what I had always wanted in a Jane Eyre adaptation that none of the others ever had--artistry. This was an adaptation where just as much effort was put into being true to the book's description of Jane's surroundings and the tones in her environment as it was into the dialogue and the characters. That's really important, because so great a portion of the novel is dedicated to these details. Fukunaga, Buffini, Goldman, and Marianelli took Jane Eyre and made it a visual piece of art, and I as an intense fan of the novel I appreciated that tremendously. You can say what you want about the actors or the infidelities of the screenplay, but no one can question the visceral quality of the music and the cinematography and its connection to the original story. Whenever I watch this movie again, I always rediscover why I loved it so much since that first night I saw it a year ago.

"Rochester: Consummation" by J.L Niemann Released!

I interrupt this Austenathon to inform you of something you might take interest in. A few months ago, I reviewed Rochester by J.L Niemann and added that the book was, in fact, a series. Many of you seem to have already read the first one, and I discussed it with some of you who were highly anticipating the second (as was I).

The second is here. It's not available on Kindle, which is both a blessing in a curse. Of course, I don't like kindles and I much more prefer turning the page and sitting the new book alongside the old one on the shelf. However, this lack of availability also forces me to wait until the book is shipped which means that I cannot start it at once. I do assure you, however, that once it arrives safe and sound and I have read it (twice) I will write a review as quickly and diligently as possible. I'm very excited. :)

The only thing I regret is that I didn't find out about the book's release sooner. Or that someone didn't find out about it sooner (it was published two days before thanksgiving). Normally Bronteblog and The Squeee have me beat when it comes to covering the latest Bronte news first. So either they didn't post it or they haven't found out yet either. If the latter case, I feel a bit proud that I've finally gotten to a bit of news before they have! If the former...oh well, I guess I'm just dreadfully late. The circumstances don't matter, however, because I feel very happy about walking into the new year with something Jane Eyre related to look forward to.

Happy New Year everyone!

P.S: It's not the new year here just yet, so I'm saying it in advance. 

Top 10 "Jane Eyre" Leaving Scenes

Edit May 16, 2018: For updated and added reviews and content, visit my new website Lit Lovers & Corset Laces. 

Blurry eyed, I dogeared the last page of the chapter and placed it neatly under my pillow (a habit of mine when I read a book before going to sleep). Warm tears pushed past my lashes and silently made their way down my cheeks. Thus, this is how I passed the first few moments after reading Chapter Twenty-Seven of Jane Eyre. I had never cried over the pages of a book before; no written word had ever moved me in such a way. But I felt such agony in Jane's words; an indescribable sense of torment and strength intermixed in one soul.

Chapter Twenty-Seven earned a special place in my heart. The proposal had been enjoyable. I remember halting, sticking a finger in the page and sitting still for a moment to contain the erratic beating of my heart after Rochester uttered the words "equal" and "likeness". However, Chapter Twenty-Seven touched the very depths of my mind and heart. After experiencing my first heartbreak (one rather relatable to Jane's circumstances), I reread the pages only to stain them with tears again. It was then that I decided to become a woman more like Jane Eyre. She was a girl not much older than I. If she could face the world (and the man begging her to succumb to beautifully tempting destruction) with shoulders squared and chin up, why couldn't I? 

Such are the reasons why the "Leaving Scene" is single-handedly the most important portion of any adaptation in my mind. The proposal is important, but I allow myself to make certain excuses in that area. The leaving scene is given no optimism. It is scrutinized with weighty contemplation. If disgraced, the movie itself cannot be seen in a positive light. I've been brimming with anticipation; waiting for the day when I might rank this scene and share it with you, readers. That day is here. 

But this ranking is actually a lot different from my previous rankings. Often times I admit to you that "this narrowly made it past" or "this could have been a tie". These rankings, however, are concrete. I have placed each in the exact spot that I think it should be, and in my mind that place is permanent (until another adaptation comes out and I have to factor it in). Of course, to you I might have made some hideous mistakes so (as always) I encourage comments! 

#10: Jane Eyre 1934

The magnitude to which this scene was dismantled and butchered was so horrible that it was insanely funny (as was the rest of the movie). I couldn't bear to watch it, and yet I replayed it three times just to give myself a good laugh. In circumstances such as these, one can't help but laugh. If I had expected something good then I might have been angry, but after the first five minutes of the film I knew that it wouldn't amount to anything. At least we can give it some credit where we couldn't render it in other scenes. Even that isn't worth mentioning, however. I can barely keep a straight face while writing this paragraph when I think of how Bertha just marches straight into the room and asks, "Are we getting married again?"
Grade: F-

#9: Jane Eyre 1996

Now this actually did anger me for the simple reason that the leaving scene doesn't even exist. There's no possible way that one could even call this a leaving scene! It's merely a quick conversation on Jane's way out the door. In fact, it reminded me of when I leave for school in the morning. My mother stumbles into the kitchen just as I'm packed and on my way out. "I love you," she says. I give her a quick "I love you too" and then leave. Such is the same principle in this leaving scene, only there is a "this is the last time I can say it" after the "I love you too." It is catastrophic! To spend less than a minute on one of the most pivotal parts of the novel when time has been wasted in other areas of the adaptation is an unforgivable sin in my eyes. My face burns at the thought of it. Yet, even this ruinous mistake might have been redeemable if Charlotte Gainsbourg had left the room with even the slightest trace of suffering, conflict, or something! The woman just walks out as if she's departing for a casual walk.
Grade: F

#8: Jane Eyre 1949

Despite the fact that the adaptation was butchered from top to bottom, the director must have still understood the sanctity of the scene because it ended up being the best part of the adaptation. Yes, it was still horrible; but at least it was there (even with its brevity). Jane once again has the dilemma of being too nonchalant about leaving, but Charlton Heston puts up a decent effort that isn't all that bad. He holds her veil in his hands and then, after sensing the merest movement, jumps from where he stands and pleads, "Jane, you won't leave me?" in a way that even evokes a little bit of emotion. Kneeling before her he summarizes a chapter in two sentences and then the scene is done, but at least there was something. It wasn't good, please don't get me wrong. It failed miserably. But it worked enough to actually rank above ninth place.
Grade: F

#7: Jane Eyre 1997

Ciaran Hinds must have been just as angry as I was. Yes, that last sentence was a little bit of a joke, but it's the only plausible explanation because the only emotion I received from those five minutes was grouchiness. Jane walks through the door; he follows her and yells at her, mocking her for being so "immature" when he's the one throwing a temper tantrum. She goes down the stairs and he's still yelling at her. They go out to the garden and he's still yelling. Rochester is many things during his last effort to keep Jane, but he was most certainly not angry. From what I recall there are moments of passion and frustration, but they come and go. When he yells, Jane starts to cry and in a moment he is at her side comforting her and apologizing. When he grabs her in a firm grip, he realizes that it can do nothing because "it is her soul that he wants and not alone her brittle frame." Hinds just yells. Compound that with the fact that the script strayed significantly from the path the novel laid out and made the movie seem like some sappy soap opera, and it almost makes me cringe. I would much rather hear lines of Brontean language than the blatant cheesiness of, "I'm leaving for us, Edward; for what we have." Oh, and Rochester DOES NOT just let Jane walk out!
Grade: F+

#6: Jane Eyre 1973 

The first part of this scenes is done beautifully. The look with which Michael Jayston walks through the door brought tears to my eyes before Jane even fell into his arms. He is downtrodden, hopeless; tender. As he takes her in his arms and inquires whether her heart has been weeping blood he says it as if his own heart has been doing the same. However, this is as far as the greatness extends. When the setting changes, so does the performance; heading in a downward spiral into nothingness. I was never a strict fan of Sorcha Cusack's take on Jane, but I can soundly say that she was not so bad here. She made it clear that Jane's love for Rochester was still strong but still managed to capture the independence Jane needed to leave. However, Michael Jayston's performance declined. Perhaps it's just me, but I found no urgency in Rochester's plea. There is no sense of absolute need. Not to say that this scene isn't good, because it is. The adaptation as a whole was solid, but it was only solid and nothing beyond that.
Grade: C-

#5: Jane Eyre 2006

Oh yes, this version sure did take a drop. Were you surprised? After all my previous rankings, one would think that this scene would take another spot in the top three. Nope. Sorry to you diehard '06 fans, but despite all the arguments given to me as to why I should like this scene, I still don't. There is no fallacy in chemistry, I will admit that. Ruth and Toby have a magnetism on camera that is spiritually palpable in every scene, including this one. The major error that brought this scene so far below the mark was the lack of faithfulness. The truth of the matter is that despite the blazing passion between the two characters, Jane and Rochester did not make out in Jane's room the night before she left. And even that pales in comparison to the fact that all of the original dialogue from Chapter Twenty-Seven of the novel was discarded. I'm pretty sure that I might not have minded the kissing so much if it had contained at least ONE sentence identical to that in the book. As it is, the scene is just hideously unfaithful and catered much too much to a younger audience. '06 fans will argue that placing Rochester on top of Jane with his lips on hers gives the viewer an idea of just how much temptation Jane was faced with. That is very true. Yet, it does not eradicate the lack of dialogue. I'm sure the scene provided a lot of sex appeal for new readers, but there has to be a balance between a fresh take on the story and the preservation of the essentials.
Grade: C+

#4: Jane Eyre 1944

The main reason for the 1944's fourth-ranked spot was the fact that Rochester's lines were delivered beautifully and with a commendable faithfulness to the book. He commands the entire scene. Joan Fontaine gets drowned out by Orson Welles intense stares and dazzling delivery of Rochester's last plea. She was already done a disservice by that lack of lines given to her during the scene, but Joan Fontaine was still too vulnerable to be the decisive Jane we needed to see in this scene. The version ranked so high not so much because of its greatness (though it is decidedly great) but because of the lack of competition given from other versions. However, I do not wish to strip all credit away. Orson Welles' performance during this scene was absolutely powerful. His eyes never stray from Jane. It is almost as if he's afraid to take them off of her for fear that she might slip away while he blinks. As he recaps on the first night he ever laid eyes on her, my eyes never fail to fill with tears. The tenderness and yet strength with which he speaks to her is gorgeous, and as he slips from behind the shadows and cries out to her asking if she still loves him I always feel the beginnings of the first tear slipping from my lashes. Beautifully done, Orson. Horribly underrated!
Grade: B 

#3: Jane Eyre 1983

The 1983 finds itself in the top three once again. With Timothy Dalton playing Rochester, where can you go wrong? I have an answer for that. In almost every way, this scene was nearly perfect. The script once again proves extremely faithful. Zelah Clarke (who I have a tendency to be critical of because of her age and composure) stepped her game up and surged her character with emotion. The problem here is that Timothy imbues his with a bit too much emotion. In other words, there were various points in this leaving scene where the performances were borderline cheesy. Disagree if you wish, but to me there is a want of artistic restraint in Timothy's outbursts of passion. I'll put some of this down to the fact that this is actually a relatively old adaptation, but I can't omit it completely. Sometimes our leading man needs to learn that less is more (in some cases). Of course, there is striking beauty in this scene as well or else it wouldn't have taken the third spot. There are decided moments of pure perfection such as when Rochester asks, "Do you mean to go one way in the world and leave me to go another?" And as he kisses her forehead and the glimmer of that one tear sliding down his cheek catches the light, I am completely taken in. Never has a kiss on the forehead or cheek seemed so filled with passion and desire. The emotion present in those few kisses easily beat out many sex scenes in modern movies. I loved it. 

Grade: B+

#2: Jane Eyre 1970 

There is almost a lack of words to describe just how profoundly this scene touched me. It is not the most faithful, but it does a wonderful job of integrating modern vernacular with specific quotes from Chapter Twenty-Seven of the novel. George C. Scott and Susannah York share the scene with equal footing. No one overpowers the other; they work together to compose a scene of raw passion and bared souls. We do not know what Jane will choose; they each argue their case so well. She insists to be recognized as the fortress she is, and then he lays his hands on her waist and looks up with pleading eyes and we wonder if she's making the right choice. Susannah's Jane is mighty, and yet still loving. We are never in doubt of her feelings for the man opposite her. George C. Scott's Rochester is taciturn at first, but with a mere flicker of the eye his entire face changes as if he knows he can never stay angry with her. We get the overwhelming sense that Rochester does indeed need this woman. That is what a leaving scene should be like. The audience should feel the same uncertainty that Jane herself is feeling. She is resolved to leave, and yet at moments she feels as if it is impossible to wrench herself away. So she does what the Jane in the novel did. She allows Rochester to go to bed (or in this case, fall asleep sitting in a chair) with neither a promise to stay or a resolution to leave. When the early morning hours arrive, she vanishes because it is the only way she can bring herself to leave. She knows that if he wakes then he will successfully change her mind. Lovely, lovely, lovely scene from top to bottom.
Grade: A-

#1: Jane Eyre 2011

I can hear the grumbles already. In many other rankings I have often admitted to just how close the 2011 was to another. In this one I have absolutely no doubts or regrets. This leaving scene is just the best, hands down. I have not seen a leaving scene close to its equal. The whole scene is only five minutes, but yet I feel as if it captured Chapter Twenty-Seven the best. There was obvious faithfulness to Bronte's language, but the way in which Wasikowska and Fassbender delivered the lines was so natural that it seems to flow off of the tips of their tongues. Mia's performance is filled with genuine and almost tangible emotion. With each flash of the camera her eyes fill more. Yet, for most of the scene she is determined to repress them. I can feel her soul tearing. After each of Rochester's lines there is a slight pause; a pause that means the world. Those simple pauses tell the audience that Jane is torn; that she earnestly wishes to do what Rochester is asking her to but that she knows she can't. When her tears finally spill forth, so do mine. In that moment Mia Wasikowska is Jane. And when she says "You have a wife", she does so in a way that makes us feel as if it hurts her to utter it aloud. Michael Fassbender matches her intensity with every word. Laying on the floor outside of Jane's door, the first thing we hear from him is tenderness. That tenderness escalates to urgency, and that urgency spills over into unrepressed passion. There is no kiss in these scene, and yet that moment when he takes Jane's neck into his hands I feel the sexual tension; the repression of the desire that each character is trying so hard to fight. And then he cries, "It is your soul that I want." At that moment all hearts (including mine) have completed the process of breaking and I am fully assured that there is no leaving scene to equal this.
Grade: A+

Top 10 "Jane Eyre" Proposals

Edit May 16, 2018: For updated and added reviews and content, visit my new website Lit Lovers & Corset Laces. 

Oh yes, it's about that time. I have done no Jane Eyre comparisons/ranking since my Bonnie's "Jane Eyre" rankings post. Seeing that most of you fellow bloggers seem to eat it up and I get to have the joy of communicating with you, I figured that it is once again time to sift through the numerous Jane Eyre adaptations once again.

Oh, the proposal scene! Could I even count the times I've cried while reading those pages? What reader can forget that timeless battle cry? "Do you think that because I am poor, obscure, plain and little that I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! I have as much soul as you and full as much heart!" And what of the smoldering Rochester, who takes the struggling Jane into his arms and says, "My bride is here because my equal is here, and my likeness." 

Every adaptation of the novel is judged through differing eyes, but I'm pretty sure that when one judges it, the "proposal scene" normally accounts for at least 1/4 of the overall movie. If it doesn't have a good proposal scene, how could it possibly be considered a good movie (unless the "leaving scene" or "reunion scene" atone for it)?

So you know the basic idea. There are ten popular adaptations of Jane Eyre. Each proposal scene will be rated from last to first. Perhaps you might be surprised by what you see, perhaps not. Either way, PLEASE comment. It makes my day. :)

P.S: Some of the videos don't show the proposal in their entirety. The full 1944 isn't available on Youtube and neither is the 2011, but the rest should be in tact. 

#10: Jane Eyre 1934

Be prepared; this film will probably take a permanent last place in every Jane Eyre adaptation ranking I ever write. It was horrible. Everything about it was bad. Not only was the acting the worst I've ever seen, but it didn't even preserve a word of dialogue from the book. The woman who played Jane (I won't endeavor to remember her name) sounded whiny. Colin Clive was a bit better, but still BAD. There was a strange shriek in the middle of a tender moment that made me laugh. Bad, bad, bad....BAD. I laughed until tears came to my eyes.
Grade: F-

#9: Jane Eyre 1949

It's only slightly better than its precedent, but it too was horrible. The proposal was (once again) done inside of a room instead of outdoors and there was also absolutely no faithfulness to the novel. Why did they even bother making these adaptations if they weren't going to use the source material as a guide? Charlton Heston was young at the time, so the amazing actor he later became is almost nonexistent in this made-for-TV Rochester. As he kisses Miss Jane it seems as though he's breaking her neck (the common forties kiss). I don't have much of a comment to give. Slightly better than the 1934...still an epic fail.
Grade: F

#8: Jane Eyre 1973

This version had all the key components of the proposal scene mentioned in the book. It was outside, all the quotes were there, it took place at night (complete with the rain). And yet the leads fell horribly short. Was it the lack of forcefulness on Sorcha Cusack's part, the complete awkwardness with which Michael Jayston delivers supposedly passionate lines, or the utter lack of chemistry between the two that made this proposal so unappealing? Answer: all of the above. The technical elements were most definitely there; the emotional essentials were virtually nonexistent. Where is the passion dripping from their words? Why do I not feel the breaking of Jane's heart when Sorcha delivers her lines? Why does Jayston seem weird and completely unable to emote a good Rochester? I was heavily disappointed.
Grade: D

#7: Jane Eyre 1996

It wasn't all that bad, but it most certainly wasn't good. William Hurt's sleepy and rather nonchalant Rochester doesn't change, making this proposal seem like a drawling mess. Charlotte Gainsbourg seemed to be trying to hard and her Rochester wasn't trying hard enough. It's a horrible combination. Everything from the beginning to the "and so your are Jane" seemed catastrophic, and yet there was a slight moment during the ceaseless kisses and "and so, and so" that I felt the beginnings of a little knot in my throat. It disappeared for another few minutes then came back during the "then stay and marry me" and then was completely wiped away by an awkward kiss and a lack of rain falling from the sky. The rain/thunder/lightning deal is extremely important to me. The symbolism behind the weather in the novel is something too important not to include in an adaptation.
Grade: D+

#6: Jane Eyre 1944

This proposal only fought its way ahead of the 1996 because of the actions before the actual proposal (which I count as part of the overall "proposal scene"). Orson Welles appears in the garden and emits an intense stare at an unaware Joan Fontaine as he answers, "I changed my mind." Of course, the aforementioned line and the idea that he's supposed to be leaving with the Ingrams is a large deviation from the novel, but after those few lines were done with the scene resumed a rather faithful flow. Orson Welles follows Jane as she walks in front of him, his eyes never leaving her. For those few precious seconds before Jane's emotions come forth, I always note this feeling of magnetism between the two that is worth a thousand 1996 proposal scenes altogether. However, after that, things don't live up to expectations. Joan Fontaine's assertion of independence is much too restrained and when she utters the words "poor, obscure, plain, and little" it's almost impossible to believe that it's coming from her beautiful lips. The director took the Gothic feel to the extreme, stripping away all the passion from the scene and rushing all the dialogue thereafter. Everything just flew by, ending with a storm coming out of nowhere. BUT there was a lightning-struck tree!
Grade: C-

#5: Jane Eyre 1997

I bet you're wondering why I ranked it so high after I've made such a point to mention my disgust with the horrible kiss. But if you disregard that, it's not so bad of a scene. Of course, this proposal scene received a large chunk of points because of Samantha Morton's spot-on performance. Her declaration of equality was positively moving. For those few minutes, she was Jane. Tears dripped on a steely face, and I felt Jane defiantly trying to keep her heart from breaking. When she says, "I am your equal, and you have treated me as such" I want to burst into applause. On the other hand, there is a slight lack of faithfulness to the novel in dialogue. It was almost like they were reading a Sparknotes version of Jane Eyre that paraphrased the general idea. I give points for the rain, but deduct those same points for the absence of lightning. Oh, and BAD kiss!!!! I just had to add that point once again.
Grade: C

#4: Jane Eyre 1970

Perhaps I ranked this too high. It seems as though the 1970 has a power that makes it appealing despite its lack of faithfulness. I'm sorry, but something about this proposal scene was beautiful! Maybe its the riveting score or the way Susannah York's Jane allows the audience to experience a moment of sheer vulnerability when she pleads, "Please, don't make me foolish." Whatever the cause may be, I just can't resist this proposal scene. There was no night, no rain, no lightning, no faithfulness at all, and yet I couldn't even begrudge the failings because of the emotional chemistry. If only a faithful adaptation could have that much intensity! It's just beautiful. The proposal scene of this movie never fails to send tears running to the brink of my eyes. Still, I've been rather hard with my grades today and because of the dismissal of all the technical qualities, it still doesn't have too good of a grade.
Grade: C+

#3: Jane Eyre 1983

From here the race got really tight. Once again, the 1983 takes a solid third. Dalton delivers a knockout performance so true to the Rochester I imagined in the novel. His portrayal was breathtaking. I remember the first time I read the novel. One thing I remember with perfect clarity is when Jane asks Rochester to turn his face to the light so that she can study him. Jane then remarks that, "His face was very much agitated and very much flushed, and there were strong workings in the features, and strange gleams in the eyes." When Timothy Dalton steps from the shadows and lets the light fall on his features, he is the epitome of that description. He brings the perfect blend of agitation, passion, and slight eccentricity that Jane describes in the proposal. Yet, Zelah falls short, which is what lands this proposal scene at third. We must take into account that the proposal is as much about Jane's "declaration of independence" as it is about Rochester's passionate offer. It's such a shame that Dalton didn't have something better to work with. Oh, and once again there was no rain or lightning. Is it that hard to include?
Grade: B++

#2: Jane Eyre 2011

Are you surprised that I didn't rank it first? After all the talking I've been doing about the adaptation, you'd think that I might rank it first in everything. This proposal was lovely in every aspect. Let's start from the beginning. Jane walks along the path and Rochester runs after her. Michael Fassbender blocks her path, walking backwards in front of her; wearing a nervous and yet adoring smile as he asks her whether she likes Thornfield. Mia's Jane is surly, resolved not to let him know the misery she's feeling. Her answers to his questions are direct and acerbic and she tries not to look at him. He then asks, "We've been good friends, haven't we?" He never takes his eyes off of her, and as he turns back around to walk beside her we see their shoulders bump ever so slightly in a moment of brisk and kinetic contact. Jane then starts to break down, and if you listen you can hear the break in Mia's voice as she replies, "Yes sir." It's simply beautiful. Fast forward and then rain starts. The two run inside, skipping through Thornfield's foyer in indomitable bliss. Jane makes a dash up the stairs. Rochester eagerly pursues her, catches her by the arm, and she jumps willingly back into his embrace to share another loving kiss. Yes, there is rain. Yes, there is a lightning struck tree that will wedge its way back into the movie by the end. Yes, there is faithfulness to the novel ("You are my equal and my likeness")! Why wouldn't you rank it near the top?
Grade: A

#1: Jane Eyre 2006

Yes, I ranked it first! I know I've been so critical of the proposal scene in this version (and of the adaptation in general), but after revisiting this scene again I was once again taken by what I used to love about it. I used to ridicule the display of snot and what I used to think of as an overreaction, but I might actually take those comments back. Ruth Wilson's Jane is in a state of mental distress. She bares her soul before Rochester, lays it all on the table, and still tries to wriggle from his grasp in the midst of blinding tears. It's hard not to admire that kind of performance. What would we do if we were in the same position? I would cry, and I would probably cry just as hard as Ruth was crying in this scene. Across from her plays a passionate Toby Stephens who listens with tense composure as she pours her heart out to him. When she suggests the idea that she might actually leave him he jumps up and grabs her as if the thought is unbearable, firmly exclaiming, "You will not leave me Jane." The scene is ugly.  She wipes her nose on her sleeve and his voice breaks with alarming severity. It's raw, realistic, and completely akin to the relationship between the Jane and Rochester of the novel. Amidst tearstained cheeks, she asks him if he's in earnest. He entreats her to call him by his name in a way that makes my heart melt and tears come to my eyes. The significance of his pleading her to call him by his Christian name is something easily missed in other adaptions (and even in the novel), but you can feel it here. As they kiss the thunder rumbles in the distance and the rain starts to pour. As they jog back to Thornfield laughing under the rain, a lightning bolt comes from the sky and strikes the tree under which they sat with symbolic power. This proposal scene was very near perfect.
Grade: A 

Thoughts on Wide Sargasso Sea

I woke up this morning to a sunny, dew-dropped day. Yawning, stretching out my taut limbs, and letting my eyes adjust to the light streaming through my blinds, what do you think was my first thought of the day? It could have been the fact that I have choir practice or that I finish up my last two hours of Driver's Ed today. Perhaps I was contemplating on the excitement that my best friend is sleeping over at my house tonight. But no, my mind was occupied by Wide Sargasso Sea.

Not much of a way to start the morning, huh? After all, I've despised Wide Sargasso Sea even before I finished the novel. Something about taking the sanctity of Rochester's character and turning it into a villain (well, even more of a villain I should say) was just unforgivable in my mind. I couldn't fathom my beloved Byronic hero being turned into something I couldn't see him as. Not to say that I saw him as perfect, because I didn't. Rochester had a list of obvious (and almost inexcusable) flaws. Perhaps I couldn't bear the thought of taking those flaws and turning him into a character completely consumed by them.

But I can't help but have an artistic appreciation for Wide Sargasso Sea. It is a valiant effort to dare the opinions of Jane Eyre puritans and orchestrate a story told from the POV of the woman in the attic. If I were an author, I would probably take the same route. With a novel such as Jane Eyre told in the first-person, there's so many allies left open for different interpretation, and when one examines them we find that Bertha's alley is perhaps the widest. What do we actually know about the lunatic hidden away on the third floor besides what Rochester tells us? Jean Rhys capitalizes on Rochester's weakest point to tell Bertha's story. We only know what Rochester tells us, and from what we've seen throughout Jane Eyre, Rochester isn't always the most honest of men. Hmmm...

It's actually quite interesting to shift the focus to the character that often times readers think the least about. In the source material, Miss Bertha Antoinetta Mason is almost just an inserted obstacle. She serves no other purpose than to make things harder for the heroine we're supposed to be focusing on. The focus is never for a minute on the character herself; she merely functions as a tool to peal away the layers of other characters (namely Jane and Rochester).

 For example, during the whole revelation of Bertha's existence, the heart of emotion still lies with a tortured Rochester. Who do we fill pity for? Least of all Bertha who's been locked up in a decrepit and fly-ridden attic for all these years. Our thoughts are bent only on Jane and Rochester. What will become of their relationship? What will Jane do? Awww, poor Rochester. And even in the end if we sit down and do some serious introspection, most of us will admit that we were almost relieved when Bertha threw herself off the roof because it was a basic signal that Jane and Rochester were free to be together.

Jean Rhys wipes away that attitude by making Bertha a person. She wasn't always a lunatic. When she was young and beautiful she wanted all the same things that Jane wished for. She was at the mercy of her position in the exact same way Jane was. Entering into an arranged marriage with Rochester might not have been as romantic as a passionate affair with miss Jane Eyre, but do you really think that Bertha knew what she was getting herself into any more than Rochester did?

Grant it, what I'm saying isn't exactly how Rhys paints it. In Wide Sargasso Sea, Miss Mason is the victim, Rochester was in on the bargain the whole time, and it was she who fell madly in love with a man who was using her only to discard her later.

Wide Sargasso Sea take an extreme view on the story but after finishing it and recovering from my initial disgust, I did learn to see Bertha Mason differently than I had before. Though Rhys's portrayal of the story is never in my mind when I read the actual source material (thank goodness), it still managed to impact me in a way that made me a better reader of Jane Eyre. That's the idea here. You might hate the story or absolutely adore it, but either way it helps mold you into a better reader.

That's how I took it, anyway.