Persuasion

What she is not is a judgmental jokester, or a self-hating sarcasm machine. Of all the Austen novels ripe for the Fleabag treatment, Persuasion perhaps makes ...

This Anne’s ability to quickly rein in her emotions is also a departure from the book, which is pocked with examples of Anne overcome by her sadness that “required a long application of solitude and reflection to recover” from. The writer Jamie Hood recently wrote about the rise of “the anti-woke cool girl,” a girl who is balancing atop the horseshoe of the far left and far right, acknowledging the structures created by misogyny and bending over backwards to fit into them, but with a wink that tells us she thinks they’re dumb. In one of the book’s climactic scenes, Anne and a man argue about the difference between male and female nature, and the man attempts to prove Anne wrong by citing literature rife with examples of women behaving differently: “all histories are against you, all stories, prose and verse.” Anne implores him to engage in their argument with “no reference to examples in books. Even at the end of the novel, when she’s reunited with her lover, she insists that she does not resent her younger self for her decision and in fact respects its morality, saying “when I yielded, I thought it was to duty.” The Anne of Austen’s novel is not afraid to complain about the demands her society imposes on women, drawing a direct line between her “suffering” and the forced sublimation of her feelings in favor of her family’s fortunes. By rolling her eyes at the camera when someone insults her appearance, sharing a sidelong glance with it when someone comments on her lack of a future without a man, making a joke to it at her own expense through tears, and winking at it when she finally ends up in her lover’s arms, this film’s Anne seems to be trying to tell us that she’s not like other spinsters. But the point of Anne Elliot wasn’t that she’s not like other single women, but that she was, and that her experience was painful in the world she walked through. Of course expressing her yearning led to such a mess—she should have stuck to the quips. That I would have been a happier woman in keeping him than I have been in giving him up.” When her godmother replies that “marriage is transactional for women” whose “basic security is on the line,” Anne retorts that “He is rich now,” and Anne should have foreseen that he would end up successful. But the Fleabag-ification of Anne Elliot is more nuanced and insidious than a simple mistranslation of Anne’s personality in her journey from page to screen. She goes on to inform us that her despair is entirely of her own making, a result of being too persuadable, lacking conviction in her beliefs. In voiceover, she tells us that this is how she spends most of her time, otherwise known as “thriving,” her tone slick with sarcasm.

Anne Elliot, whom Austen once described in a letter as “almost too good for me,” is a tricky sell for modern audiences—maybe even the trickiest of Austen's ...

Anne calls Mr. Elliot “a ten,” and another character refers to Anne herself as “a six.” She makes reference to a “playlist” while holding a stack of music. The movie also faithfully reconstructs the scene that brings Wentworth and Anne back together at last: Wentworth overhears Anne say that women love longest, and famously writes her a letter in which he confesses his feelings and claims to be “half agony, half hope.” At a dinner party, she drunkenly blurts out that her brother-in-law, Charles Musgrove, preferred her before marrying her younger sister (a fact that is true to the book, though she doesn’t go blabbing about it). And she later breaks an awkward silence by describing a dream in which she is an octopus. Since Sir Walter has no sons, there is a cousin who stands to inherit the family’s estate, Mr. William Elliot (Henry Golding). In the film, Mr. Elliot openly tells Anne that he has come to town to prevent her father from marrying Mrs. Clay, a woman of lower rank, because any son they had would jeopardize his inheritance. The film translates this by having Johnson offer commentary in voiceover as well as deliver asides directly to the camera (another similarity to the ’99 Mansfield Park). Anne thus recites verbatim many lines otherwise belonging to the novel’s narrator, such as noting that vanity is “the beginning and the end” of her father’s character. Anne Elliot, whom Austen once described in a letter as “almost too good for me,” is a tricky sell for modern audiences—maybe even the trickiest of Austen’s heroines, after Mansfield Park’s Fanny Price. In the novel, Anne is 27 years old, her “bloom” of youth and beauty has “vanished,” and she has remained single since breaking off her engagement to sailor Frederick Wentworth, then poor and lacking connections, when she was 19.

Carrie Cracknell's skillful Netflix adaptation masterfully captures the subversive wit and charm of Austen's strident heroine.

Screenwriters Ron Bass and Alice Winslow retain much of the subversive, fundamental elements that made the original text so beloved, cheeky and subversive far beyond the boundaries of the time in which it was written. That said, even though this is very much “Not Your Mother’s” Jane Austen adaptation, the filmmakers wisely don’t alter the source material’s portrayals of class and character. Whether it be her Fleabag-esque, Enola Holmes-like or her Ferris Bueller-lite expository dialogue and reactions, Johnson adeptly holds the audience’s attention, letting them in on the joke—or at least hinting at her despair. Anne is holding out hope that he’s open to rekindling their romance, but quickly discovers that Wentworth is more awkward and aloof than ever. Her marriage prospects have vanished since she was persuaded eight years prior to dump her one true love, low-ranking Naval officer Frederick Wentworth (Cosmo Jarvis). Because their union would’ve been solely for love, it was frowned upon by Anne’s family and closest confidant, Lady Russell (Nikki Amuka-Bird), whose transactional view of marriage has left Anne despondent and remorseful. Suffice it to say that Cracknell wants audiences to know that their impending journey isn’t going to be like any of the film’s stuffy, slavish predecessors.

Many took to Twitter to denounce the Fleabag-ification of humble heroine Anne Elliot. Some lamented that Dakota Johnson was miscast in a role of an overlooked ...

It's a shame the movie has so little empathy for a woman who felt marriage was her ultimate goal, and has discovered it's not the eternal pleasure that she'd been promised. And yet the sly scene-stealer is Mia McKenna-Bruce as Mary Musgrove, née Elliot. In these scenes of play and whispered confidences, Anne's sweetness is revived, sparkling alongside some of the movie's most sensational supporting players. This Anne clearly regards all around her as superficial fools, who denied her love and now stand in her way of even the most basic peace. In the novel, Anne is painted as clever, rational, and considerate to a fault. Richard E. Grant is splendid as the ludicrously posh and snotty Baronet Elliot; Yolanda Kettle serves as his partner in silly snootery. Johnson's signature mischievousness makes sense for a smirking version of Anne, but this translation lacks the ardent longing of the novel. Still, Anne's tale in the novel is one of sustained love, endured loss, and ultimately hope. Forget the demure "only Anne" who kept her heartache to herself. Also, despite being deemed a "six" at best, there's no denying this Anne is a stunner because she is played by Dakota Johnson. Perhaps the most comical part of this adaptation is that her social circle resolutely believes Anne to be a plain-looking wallflower. In her case, that's ending her engagement to Frederick Wentworth (a stiff Cosmo Jarvis). However, Austen's Anne didn't have the mean streak this movie puts in the mouth of her heroine. While the movie's Anne still does all these things, her voiceover and Fleabag-like side-eye to the viewing audience shifts the emotional weight of these choices from regret to pointed resentment.

Watch Netflix's adaptation of the beloved Jane Austen book Persuasion for whimsy. Read the book for passion.

I wish I could smirk my way out of situations as Johnson’s Anne does, the furrowed brow and laugh lines adding a delicate winsomeness to my appearance. The final wink of the film is not meta; it’s just weird. There are references to being “an empath” and a “total narcissist,” as well as lines such as, “If you are a five in London, you’re a 10 in Bath.” The script transforms cherished lines from the book. Its Anne is akin to a modern rom-com heroine, chugging wine straight from the bottle, blurting out random remarks, and appearing coquettish on occasion. As much as I am enthusiastic for nuanced representations of middle-aged women that accurately reflect the delicate mental juggling acts they have to manage in their daily life, I’m also all-in for escapist narratives. It is, however, the unwavering yearning between Anne and Wentworth that endears the story to its fans. Will this film measure up to the book? ‘Twas the perfect distraction I needed for a maudlin summer evening. A kind soul, she’d been persuaded by her family and a mentor to reject a proposal from Frederick Wentworth (Cosmo Jarvis), who’s seen as a courageous but unremarkable naval officer. The kerfuffle around this production is understandable. Seven years later, Anne is still pining for her lost love, while her family’s fortunes have dwindled thanks to their lavish lifestyle. And yet, I did not care a whit.

Persuasion movie review: Dakota Johnson is having a most memorable hot-streak, even though Netflix's Jane Austen adaptation is the weakest of her recent ...

As with her last two films — The Lost Daughter and Cha Cha Real Smooth — she is the standout performer among a truly talented pool of actors. There is, however, a nagging sense of frustration at why Cracknell and her writers — Ron Bass and Alice Victoria Winslow — were so hesitant about revamping characters in a more significant manner, when they appear to have shown zero hesitation in rewriting what those characters are saying. The gimmick here, of course, is that director Carrie Cracknell has infused in Austen’s mannered story a contemporary edge. Sometimes, she sneaks in glances at the camera that are virtually indiscernible. The dialogue, at least at first glance, sounds archaic, but there’s something about the delivery that makes you lean in for a closer listen. But now, she lives with her status-obsessed father and spends most of her time wondering how she could have been so stupid.

This article discusses the ending of the Netflix film Persuasion (2022), which will contain spoilers. Read the review of Persuasion. The one thing that.

There is no right way to do anything and that is the takeaway from this movie. In this letter, Frederick expresses his feelings for Anne that he is too afraid to speak about because he believes she is set to marry Mr. Elliot. In a change of events, Anne rushes after Frederick and tells him that she still loves him too. Whether they are marrying for status, for love, or the total opposite and they choose to remain single, are individual choices that are made. No one should be telling others whom to love, or how to love for that matter. Until the very end of this film, Anne is convinced that Frederick is set to marry Louisa. And if Austen is famous for anything, it’s to have a miscommunication manifest into something bigger. Once Frederick hears Anne talking about a woman’s love to be hopeful in front of Frederick, he leaves abruptly and then hands over a letter.

The Jane Austen adaptation aims to be subversive when it could have just been sincere. By David Sims. Lydia Rose Bewley, Richard E. Grant ...

Clueless may indulge crackling quips that wouldn’t make sense anytime but in the summer of 1995, but it’s also a candid tale of a girl growing up and embarking on the first mature relationship of her life. The result is harried and forgettable—the complete opposite of Austen’s quietest, noblest heroine. Little of that is present in this cinematic Persuasion, which portrays all of Anne’s self-doubt in knowing monologues delivered straight down the lens. That year, the BBC aired Andrew Davies’s Pride and Prejudice starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, a pitch-perfect, six-episode version of Austen’s novel that remains one of the best miniseries in the broadcaster’s history. The novel is one of careful choices and genuine introspection, tinged with more melancholy than Austen’s earlier works. As if Persuasion doesn’t have enough faith in its own plotting, it sasses the script for the viewer’s sake, lest we grow bored by the familiar beats of the period rom-com.

Jane Austen wrote William Elliot as one of literature's most memorable cads. In a buzzy new Netflix adaptation of Persuasion, Hollywood's nicest guy proves it's ...

“This is definitely a relaxed, enjoyable, funny take on Persuasion, but it’s going to open the door to interest in literature. We were having a challenging time casting his role, and I’m sure I was probably to blame, because I was looking for Nick Young, and then Nick Young came into the room. In the four years since Crazy Rich Asians, he has starred opposite Blake Lively in the thriller A Simple Favor, romanced Emilia Clarke in Last Christmas, played a gangster in Guy Ritchie’s The Gentlemen, and headlined the G.I. Joe spinoff Snake Eyes. “I’m really drawn to characters that itch something not only in my mind, but in my heart,” Golding says. Within the story, he has his goal and he’ll do anything to get it—or to get into the pants of his perspective target. “I always joke to Henry, ‘Did I ruin your life?’ says Kevin Kwan, who wrote the book Crazy Rich Asians and served as an executive producer on the film. I’ve lived a really beautiful existence in a way that I’m so grateful for, being able to have experience in different levels of life. Confidence and a sharp wit—not to mention that million-dollar smile—have served Golding well. “When we were casting Wentworth and Elliot, we were thinking about a whole range of actors,” Cracknell says. “He’s one of those people who knows what he wants and is going to mold the universe to his will. For me, that made it easier to really enjoy playing such a colorful character on the screen.” “I think it’s sacrilege to say,” the actor says carefully, “but I really like modern takes on period dramas. Finding his way into the part was a charming challenge for Golding. “I try to concentrate on the material in front of me.

Dakota Johnson leads the cast as Anne Elliot while Cosmo Jarvis and Henry Golding also star in Netflix's Persuasion.

What else has Edward Bluemel been in? What else has Yolanda Kettle been in? What else has Izuka Hoyle been in? What else has Mia McKenna-Bruce been in? What else has Nikki Amuka-Bird been in? What else has Henry Golding been in?

Netflix's modern adaptation of Jane Austen's classic novel Persuasion has been panned by the critics – but Stylist's entertainment editor firmly believes ...

But this is a stylish, relatable and thoroughly entertaining adaptation, and I think there is definitely a place for it in the Austen canon. Now that the world’s largest streaming service has put Jane Austen on its home screen, a whole new generation is about to discover the beloved author. I also loved Nikki Amuka-Bird’s turn as Anne’s trusted confidante, Lady Russell, who, I’m fairly sure will put a lump in your throat when she tells Anne that she deserves a man who “loves you enough to fight for you”. Netflix, of course, reigns supreme when it comes to aesthetic delights, and it’s no exaggeration to say that the cinematography in Persuasion is absolutely stunning. Despite the silly humour and liberal use of millennial vernacular (at one point, Anne’s sister Mary refers to herself as “an empath”, while a pile of sheet music is a “playlist”), you’d be mistaken if you assumed that Netflix’s Persuasion doesn’t have emotional heft. She is, in her own words, “single and thriving” – if glugging wine, crying in the bath, cuddling a pet rabbit and lying face down on your bed can indeed be considered living your best life. After the trailer was released last month, Jane Austen fans emerged in droves to lament the Fleabag treatment of Austen’s classic tale, which sees Dakota Johnson’s heroine Anne Elliot winking at the camera and wisecracking about her ex-boyfriend.

Elizabeth Olsen makes her escape from a sinister cult, while Dakota Johnson frocks up for a trip to Austenland.

But she can’t knock an odd sense of dislocation, exacerbated by visions of a ghostly man stalking her, episodes where she seems invisible to those around her, and a strange attraction to a disused out-of-town pavilion. He’s witness to the brutal persecution of overweight recruit Pyle (Vincent D’Onofrio) by Gunnery Sergeant Hartman (a terrifying R Lee Ermey). Later, in Vietnam as a forces reporter, he joins a patrol in an urban wasteland of bombed-out, blazing buildings (no jungle combat here) in a brilliantly sustained exercise in tension. Pete Docter’s animated comedy is up there with the finest in the Pixar canon, and features some of the most infectious laughter in cinema (courtesy of two-and-a-half-year-old Mary Gibbs). Billy Crystal and John Goodman voice Mike and Sully, residents of Monstropolis employed to hide in bedrooms at night and jump out at human children, whose screams then power the city (“We scare because we care”). But then a young girl, Boo (Gibbs), upends everything they know. Bette Davis shows her great range as Charlotte, the timorous daughter of a high-society Boston family dominated by her monstrous mother (Gladys Cooper). After Claude Rains’s psychiatrist frees her from her parent’s grip, Charlotte blossoms into a confident, outgoing woman – one who is happy to fall in love on a cruise with the married Jerry (Paul Henreid), a romance that develops in surprising ways. It’s a tale of late-blooming romance, lacking the youthful vim of Pride and Prejudice and so opting for quiet tenderness, as Anne’s regrets about a past relationship with Cosmo Jarvis’s sailor Wentworth – which had been blocked by her family – resurface when he reappears, still a bachelor but now much more eligible. A sense of unease suffuses the film, from the whistling drone of the soundtrack to Martha’s intimations of danger, which may or may not be real.

There's another, better film buried in the performances of the Netflix Austen adaptation.

At one point earlier in the film, Anne asks Mary, “Why must everyone always assume that all women want is to be chosen by an eligible bachelor?” But Cracknell’s Persuasion offers no evidence to the contrary. But Cracknell’s film is more about the feel of Austen than the brilliance of Austen, of which it nails neither. Instead of its intended effect—camaraderie with the audience—the gesture feels better suited to checking if viewers are indeed still awake. Anne repeatedly shoots glimpses at the camera, a la The Office, as if to say, Are you seeing this? Johnson is delicious in this scene, a perfect mix of bumbling and lit-from-within, but her performance crumbles like clay in the grasp of such a plodding script. “It’s clear to me that I want you in my life,” he says, despite all evidence to the contrary, as the seagulls circle and screech in the background. After a lot of pointless brooding that could have been solved in one straightforward conversation, everyone is eventually righted and placed into the proper relationships. I genuinely hope you find love,” he adds, and Johnson’s crushing groan of a laugh is one of the film’s more emotionally intelligent moments. A blushing, flabbergasted Anne throws the audience a look that’s as much a cry for help as it is a gathering storm cloud. The film tries, in a detached, listless sort of way, to adhere to the original novel’s story. Here, we see what a different film Persuasion might have been, had it followed the electricity of its actors and not a false sense of winking relatability. “Now I am single and thriving,” a luminous Dakota Johnson relays as protagonist Anne Elliot, sobbing into the bathtub and suckling from a wine bottle.

Dakota Johnson's Anne Elliot is a weirdly modern hot mess — much like the entirety of Netflix's new adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion.

She gets wine-drunk and yells Frederick’s name out of a window, because she knows he’s at a party across the lawn that she can’t attend because she’s tending to her sick nephew. In an effort to make Anne’s struggles with class expectations and societal norms more relatable, Cracknell and the writers apparently decided to make her a quirky free spirit. Perhaps the first felt like too much of a risk in an adaptation of a classic. Perhaps the second was too boring to the filmmakers. She’s an utterly delightful example of the character viewers love to hate. Characters frequently blurt out things like “I’m an empath!” or “If you’re a five in London, you’re a 10 in Bath,” in moments that are utterly discordant amid the otherwise period-typical dialogue. And not just narrate it, but talk directly to the camera, throwing it pithy glances and rolling her eyes in response to her obnoxious relatives. Contrary to popular belief, not every Austen heroine is a Lizzie Bennet or Emma Woodhouse. So much of the original Anne’s journey is about realizing she doesn’t have to conform to expectations. She’s a Regency-era Fleabag, even though that characterization is at total odds with the original character. Out of all of Jane Austen’s novels, Persuasion may be the most difficult to adapt for modern audiences. But instead of grappling with making these themes resonate in 2022, or taking time to let the book’s more thoughtful moments breathe, Carrie Cracknell, director of Netflix’s new movie version of Persuasion, decided to turn its lead character into a #relatable mess. She lives with her self-absorbed father and eldest sister, but when her family’s extravagant spending forces them to rent out their grand estate, a naval officer and his wife move in.

The new adaptation of the Jane Austen classic, starring Dakota Johnson, swings wildly from dour to dull.

We’re exes.” Then the camera pulls back to let you survey the result, as if this film has done you the service of making Persuasion make sense in the 21st century, in the same way that Clueless made Emma make sense in the 20th century. In Netflix’s Persuasion, Anne takes on the mannerisms of the heroine of a mid-tier ’90s rom-com, weeping in the bathtub, weeping into copious amounts of red wine, weeping as she pratfalls into accidentally pouring gravy over her head. As played by Cosmo Jarvis, Wentworth is shy, brooding, and vague; a Darcy cyborg without the specificity. Austen’s Anne reacts to these circumstances the way she reacts to most things: outwardly remaining as calm and composed as possible, while inwardly tortured. The film picks up briefly when Henry Golding arrives to play Mr. Elliot, Anne’s cousin and Wentworth’s rival for her heart. Anne has never gotten over Wentworth, but she’s now a spinster, resigned to devoting her life to caring for her sisters and her sister’s children. He’s now wealthy and respectable, in search of a wife of his own, and still furious with Anne for ending their relationship the way she did. Instead, she winks at the camera with her best Jim-from-The Office smirk, as if to say, “Aren’t we all in agreement that this is charming?” We aren’t. Unforgivably, it makes a mess of one of Austen’s most romantic moments, undercutting the iconic letter-writing scene until it’s lost all internal logic and, with it, all emotional power. While it aims for the candy-coated Regency pastiche that Bridgerton made fashionable, it’s too stolidly convinced of its own virtues to revel in the sudsiness that renders Bridgerton so satisfying. Anne Elliot — rich, pretty, and charming — was once madly in love with the penniless young sailor Frederick Wentworth. They were engaged to be married. As an imitation of Netflix’s hit Bridgerton, Persuasion is a pale copy.

Netflix's attempt to modernize the classic novel has led to a disaster of anachronistic dialogue and annoyingly wry glances at the camera.

As soon as Fleabag reached full cultural capacity, every single new show that happened to have a woman in it was branded ‘The new Fleabag’. Back to Life, Run, Mood, I May Destroy You, This Way Up, The Duchess, Everything I Know About Love, Out of Her Mind – all these shows (and plenty of others, including the French remake Mouche) have been tagged with the same lazy label. A bold new voice enters the arena, and then everyone in the world rips it off for years and years afterwards. The closest equivalent I can think of is J Robert Oppenheimer, whose impressive work in the field of fast neutron calculation led directly to the creation of the atomic bomb. It’s the sort of inelegant modernisation that allows one character to describe herself as an empath, and its comedic ambition peaks during a scene where Johnson says with a sigh, “There’s nothing worse than thinking your life is ruined, and then realising you’ve got much further to fall,” before immediately literally falling on her face. Of all the adaptations that Jane Austen’s novel has suffered, this is by far the most ostentatiously Fleabaggy. It isn’t just that Dakota Johnson’s Anne Elliott talks to camera, or even that she seems pathologically inclined to glance at us whenever anything happens whatsoever. Hopefully it isn’t too late to stop her, because the sweeping wave of full-body horror that will overcome her within seconds of pressing play is bound to hurt.

The director and writers of Netflix's 'Persuasion' explain the updated language, inclusive casting choices and why Dakota Johnson talks to the camera.

“Those are described as looking similar to like a Facebook news feed,” says Winslow. “There are little hints of that elsewhere in the script as well.” “I wanted the widest possible audience to see themselves in this film,” Cracknell says. “We wanted to capture that spirit of play in our engagement with the material,” Winslow explains. While England in 1817 wasn’t the most diverse place, this onscreen version of “Persuasion” was cast more inclusively. The most glaring alteration to “Persuasion” is the inclusion of modern-day language, including meme-ready Gen Z speak. For Kellynch Hall, majestic home of the Elliot family, the script noted that a particular wall, as Winslow describes it, “looks like Justin Bieber’s Instagram account if it were 1812 and the Regency oil painting filter were on.” “We’re all big fans of the book and pretty reverent to it in the ways we could be,” Winslow adds. While the novel is written in third person, with Austen playing the part of narrator, Cracknell’s “Persuasion” sees Anne (Dakota Johnson) speaking directly to the viewer. “We tried to make sure we were capturing the sensibility in all moments, even when some of the language changed.… “The film is set pretty faithfully in the sumptuous Regency period, but the physical behaviors, attitudes and elements of the aesthetic also lean towards now,” Cracknell notes. In “Persuasion,” a new adaptation of Jane Austen’s final novel made for Netflix, protagonist Anne Elliot speaks directly to the camera, addressing the audience like an old friend. The goal of these noticeable changes is to welcome a fresh batch of viewers into Austen’s world.

This version, starring Dakota Johnson as Anne, inserts modern phrases and tropes into a Regency-era setting.

This cast and the director could have carried it and the audience would have been there. But by the time we get there, it almost makes one wish that this were just a more straightforward adaptation without all the buzzwords. And he and Johnson, even when across the room from one another, have a spark. He is now, as far as society is concerned, a man of consequence. She is subtle where many might choose something big and breaks the fourth wall like she's letting us in on a secret. But something feels off about the way it is executed.

Netflix's new adaptation of Persuasion stars 50 Shades of Grey's Dakota Johnson as a messy millennial who swigs wine from the bottle, while lusting after ...

For me, that's one of the most powerful reasons to cast in this way. Captain Wentworth tells Anne, "I have lived with a thousand different imagined versions of you over the years," and it's heart-wrenching because it finally shows something Anne has long insisted – Wentworth knows and understands her. There's hardly time to fret that the romance between Anne and Captain Wentworth may never work out; as Johnson's Anne tells us at almost every turn, "hope springs eternal". She's delighted by her own wit and utterly unconcerned for her future, despite being an aging spinster in a family that is haemorrhaging funds. Rather than a romantic comedy of manners, it has the sorrowfully tender tone of a woman looking back on her life and imagining the happy finale she had not experienced herself. First published in 1817, it was the last novel she wrote and was completed while she was dying.