'Jane Eyre'

So, after eighteen screen adaptations and nine TV series, we are yet again being treated to a cinematic version of Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre'. One can understand why a novel like 'Jane Eyre' seems to attract film-makers' attention, considering its dark, brooding romance, its atmospheric settings and its cinematic possibilities in terms of female character development.

Cary Fukunaga's treatment of the Gothic novel remains traditional in its being character- and mood-, rather than plot-driven. Fukunaga fully exploits the novel's setting in the North with its windswept planes, dramatic despondent skies and darkly magical woods. The surroundings, here, are highlighted and take on the role of a further character, serving as a direct projection surface for Jane's inner life. Its foggy woods come to mirror the uncertainty and turmoil she experiences emotionally in Thornfield. So far, nothing new.

Jane enters this world an orphan, lonely and desperate for love. Bewildered and dejected, Jane stands on a crossroads to nowhere, facing an uncertain and lonely future. One cannot help but agree with Mr Rochester's assessment of Jane as an otherworldly creature as Mia Wasikowska embodiment of one of the most famous literary figures stares out to the world from the inside, with a gaze that is as observant as it is inexperienced. Jane comes to stand for purity in this world which more often than not corrupts its inhabitants and lets them descend into their own personal hell. If Jane stands for otherworldliness in this tale of woe, Mr Rochester embodies the world itself with all its temptations and danger.

Jane Eyre is first and foremost a tale about discrepancies: the inside and the outside, the public and the private, the master and the subordinated, free will and emotional dependence, and above all choices made and consequences suffered. Ever since its first adaptation for the stage, these discrepancies have been embodied in Jane and Mr. Rochester, which is why these roles carry an immense responsibility in terms of performance. Jane must be subordinate but proud, willing to give in, but elusive, she is mostly characterised by her honesty and her refusal to 'speak nonsense'.

Wasikowska plays Jane with a persuasive restraint, a self-possessed dignity which supposedly masks the passionate heart underneath that controlled exterior. Here lies the only real representational issue, as Jane seems slightly too restrained, one cannot imagine the pale nakedness of Jane's face to burst out in a passionate appeal to Mr. Rochester. The dramatic quality of the novel goes somehow amiss in this adaptation. The contemplative pace and gloomy cinematography might hint at the underlying, nevertheless forceful desires that inhabit its protagonist, these desire, however, never come to be fully appraised, nor explored by the film.

The character of Mr Rochester is foremost characterised by the compelling sense of physicality Fassbender infuses the role with. There is a real sense of physical constraint with an elemental restlessness to Fassbender's performance which comes to dominate Rochester's actions. Even though seemingly relaxed in his armchair in front of the fireplace while talking to Jane, Rochester seems to fidget without moving, ready to jump up at any minute. Rochester is the eternal restless, always looking for a home and a notion of peace he knows is unattainable to him. This nomadic disquietude perfectly accords with Jane's calm equanimity on screen. As such, Fassbender manages to infuse the Rochester role with an intensity which lets his secret torment shine through in all his actions.

The courting of Jane and Rochester comes to represent a slow dance, or game if you will, in which Jane, suspicious of Rochester's gentleness and motives, constantly aims at keeping her own sense of identity, her own free will. Rochester, however, teases and pursues Jane with a vehemence which can only come from a man who knows the wrongness of his own doings. At the same time, Fassbender introduces a sense of humour to the role which has often been ignored by cinematic adaptations, but which is very much present in the novel.

Even though, both Fassbender and Wasikowska deliver solid, finely tuned and intelligent performances, one cannot help but notice a missing element at the film's core. The film's pace seems to muse on its protagonists' inner states, hinting at them through its contemplative rhythm, while, at the same time, treating the two crucial dramatic events of the plot, the wedding scene and the discovery of Bertha mason in the attic, with a briskness which seems negligent at best. Also, as mentioned, the passion which supposedly drives the main characters to either give up their home or ignore all social conventions and even the law, fails to accurately translate on screen.

Fukunaga's Jane Eyre is certainly a very faithful adaptation to the text. Its treatment of the story is traditional to the point where the film seems afraid to take liberties, as it honours the classic paramount that is the text. The film's cinematography comes to capture the sense of existential loneliness and isolation perfectly and mirrors it in its natural setting, again honouring the tradition of the Gothic novel. At the same time, however, the film feels at little too restraint for its own good and fails to convey this sense of playfulness in the Jane/Rochester conversations and the notion of all-consuming passion dictating the characters' actions. As such, this version of Jane Eyre certainly represents a fine portrayal of the novel, deliberately understated, beautifully shot and solidly performed, in the end, however, it fails to render justice to the novel's emotional core and in this lies its main shortcoming. Still, all in all, an adaptation which will please all the faithful Bronte readers as its main pleasure lies in recognition, members of the audience who have not read the novel, however, might find it frustrating to relate to the characters' motives.