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Anne Hathaway as a young Jane Austen
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Austen’s power goes missing
BECOMING JANE
Directed by Julian Jarrold
Certificate PG
FOLLOWING her deliciously sparky performance in The Devil Wears Prada (as Meryl Streep’s naïve new PA), we had high hopes for Anne Hathaway, who held all the promise of a rising star in the Hollywood firmament.
Sadly, the spark is extinguished with her pallid portrayal of the young Jane Austen, falling head over heels for a dashing stranger (James McAvoy), a trainee lawyer who comes to stay at the family home in Hampshire.
The chemistry between the pair ignites the moment they set eyes on one another. First, the usual hostilities have to be observed – he insults her writing as “juvenile and self-regarding”. She in turn calls him “an unprincipled egotist”. Both observations being pretty close to the mark, and predictably leading to romance.
We’re into a world of rural gentility, mist-shrouded fields, crinolines, impeccable manners and horse-drawn carriages. All that is missing is the most vital ingredient – the passion that Jane releases in her aspirational heroines, taking refuge in her bedroom to write late into the night when the big house is quiet and hers is the only candle burning in the window.
The supporting cast are headed by Julie Walters, as Jane’s ambitious mother, the magnificent Ian Richardson as a hanging judge in his last role before his recent death, and by James Cromwell as Mr Austen, a courtly cleric far removed from his current steely-eyed role as Jack Bauer’s father in 24.
No bodice ripping here, but only a gentle – and sadly rather dull – reminder of another era, now long gone and far away.
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