If Autumn de Wildes EMMA was a treat, it would likely be a pyramid of macaroons. While most of Jane Austen adaptations since Emma Thompson‘s brilliant PRIDE & PREJUDICE are either more romantic or pertly naturalistic, de Wildes EMMA is highly polished, in almost surreal, luminous pastel colors (also the trend color of the coming spring) and as precisely choreographed as the unevitable Country Dance in the middle of the film which changes everything. The figures are as lovingly placed in the middle of the flowers and patterned wallpaper like the characters in a Wes Anderson fils, and a gentle humor that plays with rooms, movements, and syncopes carry throughout the film. Sometimes it‘s small things like the precision with which the rich, beautiful, and smart Emma (Anya Taylor-Joy), who likes to play matchmaker but is in no rush herself to give up on the comfortable favorite daughter status, slams her carriage door as the icing on the cake. Sometimes it gets slapsticky, like the running gag with Bill Nighy, who plays Emma‘s devoted and hypochondriac father. Mr. Woodhouse is constantly cold: “don‘t you think there‘s a draft here?,“ and the personell has to quickly set up screens around the man of the house to divide the room in a new way. Sometimes they separate prospective lovers, sometimes they hide other‘s looks. But, to stick with the macaroon analogy, EMMA doesn‘t just look good (camera: Kelly Reichardt cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt), the film also has a very sweet and soft heart. When Emma‘s plans to marry off her protege, kind orphan Harriet Smith (Mia Goth), fail, the contrition is palpable, and when things get heated between Emma and the outspoken Mr. Knightley (Johnny Flynn) at the aforemention dance, the sparks can be seen.

Hendrike Bake

Translation: Elinor Lewy