Why does Emma seem to have more adaptations than any other Austen novel besides Pride and Prejudice? Perhaps because – with the possible exception of Marianne Dashwood – Emma is the only Austen heroine whose story arc revolves around her critical, but unperceived need to “get over herself.”
So however the producers choose to deal with the convoluted external plot, the real challenge is for the lead actress to demonstrate both the need for change and the ability to change. And how do you get an audience who generally wants to slap you silly for the first three-quarters of the story to believe your character has truly had a change of heart by the end?
To be fair, most of the adaptations present Emma’s comeuppance pretty well. Where they struggle is in the external plot’s tendancy to be so confusing that Emma’s eventual self-realization and repentance, as it were, is lost in the shuffle. I’ve heard that some stage productions have left the whole Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax side plots out of the story completely, because they are so prone to “muddy the waters.”
Overcoming a convoluted plot while presenting an aggravating protagonist’s internal journey in a way that eventually earns the audience’s sympathy seems to be a challenge that few Austen-loving producers and actors can resist. So you have a relative wealth of good choices.
I’ll provide more detail later, but five adaptations of Emma stand out and are widely available:
- The 1972 BBC miniseries starring Doran Godwin and John Carson
- The 1996 theatrical release starring Gwyneth Paltrow and James Cosmo
- The 1996 made-for-TV ITV movie starring Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong
- The 2009 BBC miniseries starring Romola Garai and Jonny Lee Miller, and
- The 2020 theatrical release starring Anya Taylor-Joy and Johnny Flynn
Note: Before you read Emma or watch any adaptation you should probably know a few things:
The book is written from Emma’s point of view to the extent that the narrator often seems to share Emma’s ability to misread situations and overlook the obvious. The adaptations reflect that approach to some extent. Don’t trust Emma’s view of things to be 100% accurate – draw your own conclusions from the things the other characters do and say.
The book and the adaptations introduce two major characters a third of the way through, with relatively little explanation. Emma is prone to resent one – Jane Fairfax – while barely knowing her, and prone to admire the other – Frank Churchill – without knowing him at all (see the above paragraph). Since the movies don’t always provide the background you need to figure out how they figure in, here’s a quick summary:
- Jane Fairfax is the orphaned granddaughter of Mrs. Bates, who is a clergyman’s widow. Mrs. Bates’ daughter, the chatty spinster Miss Bates, would gladly have raised her but did not have the resources. So when the wealthy Campbell family offered to raise Jane in their home to give their own daughter a companion, the Bates reluctantly sent her away, while eagerly awaiting any news or letters. When Jane appears in Highbury, the Campbell daughter she was companion to has been married, and the Campbells have no more need for her. She has all the accomplishments expected of an aristocrat’s daughter or wife, but no dowry or rich relations. So, barring an unlikely fortuitous marriage to a gentleman, she will likely have to support herself as a governess. In the meantime, she has enough put back to live with her aunt and grandmother for the summer. Emma unfairly resents Jane without really knowing her, possibly because she must endure Miss Bates reading every letter to her out loud and constantly bragging on Jane’s (very real) accomplishments.
- Frank Churchill is a half-orphan. His mother, a Churchill by birth, married Mr. Weston against her family’s wishes, then died young. Mr. Weston’s grief became so great that he could not care for his son. When Frank’s wealthy aunt offered to raise him, Weston agreed, even though it meant Frank would have to take Churchill as his last name. Like Jane, Frank was raised in a wealthy househould; unlike Jane, he stands to inherit that wealth. Emma is prone to think well of him because Weston brags on him so, though Frank never visits his father at Highbury and can’t even be bothered to attend his father’s wedding.
All of this is barely explained in the book and sometimes not explained at all in the adaptations, so having this background should help any reading or viewing make more sense. Now for a brief overview of the adaptations.
The 1972 miniseries seems dated today – Doran Godwin is a stage actress who seems a little too old for the role; the script seems turgid in points, and even the most “emotional” scenes are acted flatly, with “stiff-upper-lip” delivery more suited to reading a grocery list. Sorry. That said, if you want to know the story very well, and, say, you struggle with reading the book, this is a very good summary of the important parts, and some of the unimportant.
The 1996 theatrical release starring Gwyneth Paltrow and James Cosmo is a very pretty production, though it has been criticized for glossing over some things the viewer really needs to understand the plot. It does, however, contain the best Mr. Elton (Alan Cumming), the best Mrs. Elton (Juliet Stevenson), and one of the best Miss Bates (Sophie Thompson).
The 1996 made-for-TV ITV movie starring Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong provides a lot more depth, and a clearer presentation of the characters’ relationships to each other. Plus an ending that shows what Austen only tells – Emma’s willingness to stop letting class barriers define her circle of friends. (Some critics think it’s superfluous, but I’m not sure they’re right.) Writing is good overall, and the supporting cast is excellent. (Critics used to say Beckinsale’s Emma was more snobbish than she “needed to be,” but that dubious distinction has since been snagged by Anna Taylor-Joy’s portrayal in the 2020 theatrical release.)
The 2009 BBC miniseries starring Romola Garai and Jonny Lee Miller ties with the 2020 movie for being the most watchable, though for entirely different reasons. Garai and Miller show excellent chemistry, the weird side-plots with Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax make more sense, and Miller’s Knightley gives Garai’s Emma the best “chewing out” of all the adaptations. The supporting cast is excellent, especially Michael Gambon as Emma’s hypochondriac father.
The 2020 theatrical release starring Anya Taylor-Joy and Johnny Flynn is sheer fun. The show moves fast, so folks who are encountering Emma for the first time are often a bit “lost in the dust.” Taylor-Joy’s Emma is definitely the snottiest Emma ever portrayed but she carries off the turn at the end quite nicely. Johnny Flynn is not exactly the best-looking Mr. Knightly, but his performance is endearing, and the director gives him a chance to show more emotions than most Knightly usually gets to display. Mia Goth (Harriet Smith) is an exceptional comic actor who has worked with Taylor-Joy before and is hilarious throughout. Bill Nighy’s turn as an unusually athletic Mr. Woodhouse is fun. And Miranda Hart’s Miss Bates may be the best of all the adaptations (though I still have a soft spot for Sophie Thompson’s portrayal).
Best of all may be the costumes and the unpredictable musical score.
One note: there’s a scene in which Knightley rushes into his home and strips naked in his sitting room. It’s more PG-13 than R, but you should know it’s there if such things upset you, or before you watch it with your children in the room.
The winners to me? The 2009 miniseries for best depth of character and clarity of plot, and the 2020 movie for best sheer fun and most emotional romantic climax.