Just mentioning this movie in our household is akin to an act of blasphemy. Indeed, after smuggling it inside, my brother Sam and I watched it with the volume turned down low whilst everyone else was asleep. The reason is that among period drama fans the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries is Mecca. A masterpiece of casting, direction, and delivery, there’s really nothing I can say against it.
It’s a further testament to our familiarity with the story that my sixteen-year-old brother (brother, mind) was full of detailed, enthusiastic criticism. “That’s not Mr. Bennet,” he opined as a grouchy Donald Sutherland mumbled his lines. As a long, single shot captured the Netherfield Ball (Sam commented, appreciatively, on the camera-work): “Is that Mr. Bingley? No! Look at his hair!” The general lightness of the acting, and lack of restraint in comparison to the TV series, prompted: “They’re all too young!”
