Okay, so sorry for the slight delay. I; 1. Don’t have a schedule for posting here; and 2. Needed to get out of town for a bit and recoup someplace that wasn’t burning off the face of the Earth! But I’m back baby! Rejuvenated and ready to talk Joe Wright’s 2005 masterpiece Pride and Prejudice.
This is one of those films that will probably make the rounds a few times here, all for varying reasons. If you know me, you know I adore this book and this film. In fact, I consider it a perfect adaptation. It’s one of the rare adaptations that, upon viewing, adds value back to the book. I enjoy rereading Austen’s Pride and Prejudice more since this film. I don’t know what Kool-Aid Joe Wright drank, but he nailed everything in this adaptation. Really, everyone came on their A-game. Keira Knightley’s Elizabeth Bennet is immediately enchanting and witty, but accessible. She’s giving a masterclass in feminine micro-expressions.1 Matthew Macfadyen brings a stoic Mr. Darcy who, over the course of the film, we see begin to thaw, exposing the extremely shy slightly awkward man underneath. From the acting, to the sets, to the costumes, to the script, really, it’s all exquisite.
In narrowing this post down, one of the key factors that keeps Pride and Prejudice (2005) so engaging is the camera movement. It’s a very fluid camera, gliding through balls and houses with a sense of familiar wandering. These moments of fluidity are used to constitute “a kinesthetic language for making interior spaces visible in temporal and spatial terms. In other words, Wright’s embodiment of Austen’s novel shows how movement visualize the material and relational nature of everyday life as conditions of interiority” (Wong, 2013, p. 191).2
Basically, the camera movement is a way to make indoor spaces visible to the audience in terms of space and time. They are also used to show the way that characters relate to each other in these environments and how that reflects their identity and social station in life.
This sequence is from the introductory shot of the ball being held at Netherfield. Here we see the camera follow Elizabeth as she looks for Mr. Wickham in the crowd. Within 20 seconds we see Mr. Darcy walk through the frame, obviously focused on Elizabeth.3 Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth learns that Mr. Wickham is not in attendance and she is cornered by Mr. Collins and asked to dance (awkward).
Bear with me while we go through Mr. Collins’ dance scene, because it’s all worth it in comparison to Mr. Darcy’s. We cut to the partners lined up on the ballroom floor. As Mr. Collins and Elizabeth begin to dance, she also begins to get the skinny on where Mr. Wickham is from Jane. While this scene has a lot of cuts to keep us on the correct sides of the dance floor and convey movement, it’s important to note that every one of these cuts is followed by a slight pan to keep the character in frame. So it’s cut to Mr. Collins, pan. Cut to Elizabeth, pan. Cut to Mr. Collins, pan. The cuts and pans depict the movement on the dance floor while creating a sliiiiight sense of stress as you get Jane and Mr. Collins trying to talk to Lizzie at the same time while dancing. It also depicts the tension between Mr. Collins and Lizzie as she consistently ignores his bumbling to get the information from her sister. By keeping the actors in a medium closeup we see their emotions and desires play out on their faces. Mr. Collins annoyance at not having Lizzie’s full attention and Lizzie's desperation in trying to get the information from Jane. The incessant cutting back and forth also gives the scene a choppy feeling. It’s not showing off the dance, but rather making it all look slightly cumbersome, in spite of the fact that Lizzie has not missed a beat.
When the camera finally does stop moving…it only enhances the awkwardness of the situation. The camera stops in a medium long shot, the first time we’ve pulled back from a closeup during the whole dance. The camera stops because Mr. Collins has stopped. The other dancers continue moving around them while he states that he would like to remain close to Lizzie for the rest of the evening4. Lizzie’s face says everything in response to this.
The scene ends and we hear Lizzie’s laughter before we cut to her and Charlotte speeding through the crowd hand-in-hand, presumably laughing about Mr. Collins’ obliviousness. What follows is one of my favorite moments and camera techniques employed by Wright and the Director of Photography, Roman Osin.
Lizze and Charlotte are progressing through the crowd, laughing, when suddenly a solid chest is right in their path. Their laughter stops immediately and they come up short. Now, the camera doesn’t stop when Lizzie and Charlotte do. Rather, it slightly continues the tracking shot and then slowly zooms out to bring Darcy into frame, replicating Lizzie’s surprise at the sudden appearance, and then growing awareness at who it is when the surprise fades and recognition sets in, i.e. the sudden stop and slow zoom out.
This technique and techniques similar to it are employed throughout Pride and Prejudice and they are consistently used to convey Lizzie’s surprise or mortification at something suddenly occurring5. This makes the camera, and, in conjunction, the audience, co-conspirators in Elizabeth Bennet’s life. While there are some point-of-view scenes (mostly of Darcy) this is a subtle way to keep the audience involved with Lizzie. In my opinion, it also makes the film feel really fresh in a fun way. It’s true to the novel, while not being stuffy.
Mr. Darcy, to Lizzie’s surprise, asks her to dance. Now let’s gooooooo.
The dance between Darcy and Elizabeth is electric, sublime, and oozing with chemistry and for the first 2 minutes there’s no fucking cuts. The camera stays relatively within the same point on the dance floor and sways back and forth between Darcy and Elizabeth. It’s not occupied with keeping either in frame, letting them (literally) waltz in and out as the music demands. They banter back and forth, Lizzie driving most of it. But the conversation is smooth. They are perfectly in sync, able to dance and keep up their exchange. They only stop dancing when Elizabeth pushes on Mr. Wickham. However, instead of the awkward ¾ view we got with Elizabeth and Mr. Collins, we get them looking dead into each other’s eyes, a fight for dominance occurring. Is Mr. Darcy just a straight pretentious asshole? Or does he have a reason for banishing Mr. Wickham from his good graces?
Even more telling, directly after this, our first cut isn’t of one of them leaving. NO! It cuts and then they are DANCING COMPLETELY ALONE. We watch them finish out the waltz, with the camera movement returning to its sway. The waltz ends. Darcy and Elizabeth bow to each other, alone in the ballroom. Then it cuts to a side profile of Elizabeth standing in the line with all the other women as people around them clap. Absolutely masterful. Insane. Can you imagine watching this?? Can you imagine how many times I’ve watched this?
To sum up this portion, while we know that Elizabeth isn’t destined for Mr. Collins (because that isn’t this movie sorry), it’s demonstrated to us subliminally through the cinematographic techniques employed by Wright. Lizzie’s dance with Mr. Collin’s feels rushed, stressed, and slightly frantic tinged with an underlying annoyance with her dance partner. This is shown through rapid cuts and the sensation that the camera is trying to keep up with both of the characters as they cross the ballroom. In comparison…Mr. Darcy and Lizzie’s dance is exquisite. The conversation flows, the camera feels no need to cut or dart back and forth between the two. Instead, we are allowed to see them actually dance and witness, for the first time in the film, a moment of cohesion between the two, even if Elizabeth is constantly throwing barbs at Darcy. We also see that, despite this, Darcy is able to keep up even if he is getting verbally chastised. He doesn’t miss a step. It’s glorious.
The signature tracking shot, following characters as they move in and out of frame is employed once again later in the evening at the Netherfield Ball. We got a taste of it when Elizabeth was first arriving at the ball looking for Wickham, but this instance is used to greater effect. It follows every character in their antics for the night, showing how the people attached to Lizzie, namely Mrs. Bennet, her sisters, and Mr. Collins, have embarrassed themselves in the evening. All of this has been noticed by Mr. Darcy, most notably when he comes down the stairs to hear Mrs. Bennet gossiping about Mr. Bingley’s “assured” proposal to Jane that has definitively not taken place yet.6
Throughout this scene we are supposed to feel a slight amount of shame of the conduct of all the Bennets aside from Elizabeth and Jane. This sense of impropriety that we’ve been privy to through the tracking shot throughout the ball has not gone unnoticed by the hosts. While dancing with Mr. Darcy, Caroline Bingley remarks, “I can’t help but feeling that at any point during this evening someone is going to produce a piglet and make us chase it.” While this is a sick burn, and bravo to Caroline, it also speaks to the class differences between those visiting Netherfield and those who have lived in the village their whole lives. And the most effective part is…in this moment you sort of agree with Caroline. You’ve seen the behavior of the Bennets and you are slightly embarrassed. Mrs. Bennet seems like a gold digger, only concerned with marrying her daughters off to the richest men. Mary is literally tone deaf. And the youngest, Kitty and Lydia are boy-obsessed and drunk at the function. This shame is further solidified when the tracking shot finally ends on Elizabeth hiding away from everyone in the dark.7
What Wright balances so masterfully in this adaption is the ability to make the Bennets the protagonists while also clearly showing us their faults. Mrs. Bennet is a gauche menace in the ball, the little sisters and cavorting around getting drunk and giggling at men, the other sister (Mary) is badly playing the piano, etc. All of this adds up to a certain messiness that doesn’t normally take place in Darcy and the Bingley’s company. Even worse, is that none of the Bennets (excepting Lizzie and Jane) are even aware of their impropriety. They are completely oblivious.
Tying back to Wong’s quote, this scene places us in space and time–Netherfield Ball at night–but through movement we are able to understand how the Bennets relate to their counterparts at the ball and how this is received, along with the judgments that are made about each person’s character and identity from their behavior. We also get this information in a way more engaging way, than we would have in say a shot-reverse-shots of conversation. We get only glimpses, as the camera rarely stops moving, but it’s enough. During this sequence the only time the camera ever stops moving and lingers is when Elizabeth’s friend Charlotte is telling her that Jane isn’t giving Mr. Bingley a strong enough signal that she’s in love with him as well. It’s very telling that the camera stops here, for this moment, because this assumption–that Jane doesn’t return Mr. Bingley’s feelings–drives the main conflict later in the film, ultimately causing Elizabeth and Darcy’s rift. It’s a key moment that Wright wants you to pay attention to, so everything comes to a halt as it’s being conveyed. Much like the previous times the camera has stopped.
Basically, to wrap up;
Pride and Prejudice should be watched or revisited promptly, especially with fall coming up.
The tracking shots that Wright employs not only give us, the audience, a visual and temporal understanding of the character’s settings, but also make us privy to the way that they behaving in those settings and how that is being perceived. It’s a much more “show, not tell” technique that also makes it possible to balance this amount of characters in one setting. You literally just pass by them at the party.
The cuts in the dance scene with Mr. Collins demonstrate the lack of cohesion and chemistry he and Elizabeth have, while the fluid single takes of Darcy and Elizabeth show their innate (and unbeknownst to them at at this moment) compatibility.
Catch ya’ll on the flip side!
I’m literally thinking of the miniscule, eyebrows raised, slight downward roll of the eyes, awkward pause, and then walking away when she asks, “Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?” and he responds, “Not if I can help it.” Her expressions is so clearly and immediately readable as one when you try and be polite to a man and then he just says something that really leaves no room for a response and any type of communication has been shut down. I love her reaction in this moment.
Wong, M. (2013). Visualizing Interiors: The Language of Movement in the 2005 Film Pride & Prejudice. Genre, 46(3), 189-211.
Sound design also plays a key role here, because we hear Mrs. Bennet’s voice carry much further that it would have normally as she raves about Jane “always doing what’s best for the family.” Worth noting that this happens right as Darcy walks past and so is well within his earshot, just not necessarily Elizabeth’s or the audiences.
Unbelievable cringe. And what’s brilliant is there’s nothing bad about Mr. Collins. He’s just a doofus. It’s a feeling a lot of women can relate to I think. Someone likes you, the vibes just don’t match, and you don’t know how to politely tell this person it’s not reciprocated so you just avoid eye-contact while they double down.
Most notably in the scene where Elizabeth is spying on Darcy and Georgianna through the crack in the door.
We’ve now seen Darcy in the same frame while the mother gossips about his best friend twice now. This time we even see him cast a dirty look.
This is also a “big relate” moment for me. Who hasn’t taken a moment away from a party where all of a sudden you’re like “wtf is going on??”