Jane Eyre

Director: Cary Fukunaga
Cast: Mia Wasikowska, Michael Fassbender, Simon McBurney, Jamie Bell and Judy Dench
DVD release: 8 December 2011
Rated: M

Charlotte Brontë’s redoubtable Jane Eyre remains a very popular lady. Her melodramatic adventures have inspired something like 18 versions to grace cinema screens over the years, not counting TV series. Little time goes by before yet another adaption is being filmed. For most people there will be no surprises in the latest outing, as it’s now such a well-known story.

Competently, even handsomely staged, the new picture is mostly faithful to the book, but lacks passion in the chemistry between Rochester as played by Michael Fassbender and Jane by Mia Wasikowska. It comes to us again from the BBC who also gave us the excellent TV mini-series in 2006, directed by Susanna White of Bleak House fame, with Toby Stephens and Ruth Wilson. Some similarity appears in the new version.

From the days when surnames of films stars were easy to pronounce, an early Jane Eyre directed by Robert Stevenson featured Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine, shot in a typical Wellesian manner with German Expressionism hovering about. Thornfield Hall silhouetted under Stygian skies could be the castle of an ogre. Heavy on moody dark atmospherics in black and white, as were Hollywood’s revivals of 19th Century literary classics in the 40s like Wuthering Heights, Oliver Twist and Great Expectations. In many ways, and despite some clunky moments, the 1943 Jane Eyre remains most faithful to Brontë’s spirit of a brooding Victorian Gothic romance.

This version by cinematographer-turned-director Cary Fukunaga (Sin Nombre), from Moira Buffini's screenplay, tries to rekindle this Gothic feeling. Young Jane Eyre (Amelia Clarkson), an orphan, is badly treated by her aunt Sarah Reed (Sally Hawkins) and soon packed off to Lowood, a grimly Dickensian school for wayward girls run by the sadistic, self-righteous Mr. Brocklehurst (Simon McBurney).

Severely disciplined but learning at the same time, Jane (now Wasikowska) finally escapes the clutches of Brocklehurst, gaining the position of governess to Adele, a young French girl, ward of the aggressive and mysterious Mr. Edward Rochester (Fassbender). Jane travels to live at Rochester’s remote rambling estate Thornfield.

Rochester spends much time abroad, his visits infrequent and unannounced. There’s dark mystery here, and something very nasty hidden up in the attic. The kernel of the story is a haunted house theme, where bad things go bump in the night. The unlikely romance between the independently spirited governess and her cantankerous master develops, despite creepy disturbances and a cruel fate encircling them.

The use of flashbacks seems a rather convoluted way of telling the story. However the director does provide that Gothic atmosphere which lifts it out of routine costume romance. Glowering skies and ominous lightning contrast gentler pastoral scenes. The horse sequence with Rochester’s arrival, and the tense night happenings at Thornfield are confidently shot and edited. Cinematography by Adriano Goldman provides stylish images throughout, while the costuming and sets give an authentic overlay, so often a merit of BBC productions.

Mia Wasikowska (late of Wonderland) makes a compassionate ‘plain’ Jane, gaining sympathy as her harrowing story unfolds. She’s the best thing in the movie, proving again her well-honed acting skills. Michael Fassbender (X-Men: First Class), a youthful Rochester, seems more gloomy than glowering, never quite reaches “proud, sardonic, and harsh with malignant moods”. The solid supporting cast includes Jamie Bell (Defiance) convincingly miserable as Jane’s rejected mild-mannered suitor St. John Rivers, Judy Dench (Quantum of Solace) easily handles the caring housekeeper Mrs. Fairfax, Simon Burnley (Body of Lies) is viciously pompous as Brocklehurst, and Sally Hawkins (Made In Dagenham) plays out of character as vindictive Sarah Reed.

Recent Rochesters, such as William Hurt (mildly eccentric rather than foreboding in Franco Zeffirelli's 1996 adaptation), seem less prepossessing than earlier ones like George C. Scott (1970). Orson Welles, perhaps the most memorable, strode around in operatic majesty, ominously delivering his lines with a darkened brow.

While not the definitive Jane Eyre, Cary Fukunaga’s certainly ranks among the better productions, just lacking that extra zing of passion. Though visually impressive with fair dose of eerie melancholy, you cannot but hope they’ll let poor Jane rest in peace for awhile.

John Bale