Sense and Sensibility

Returning to Sense and Sensibility is like walking into a house whose furnishings the audience already knows. Ang Lee and Emma Thompson made the 1995 adaptation so welcoming that any successor risks being judged before it has even had a chance to speak for itself. Director Georgia Oakley, working from a screenplay by Diana Reid, rises to this difficult challenge with a film whose appeal lies in its intimacy. This interpretation of Jane Austen pays particular attention to the effort required to behave sensibly when your world has become senseless. Its subdued atmosphere sometimes weighs down the comedy, and certain secondary relationships could use more room to develop. Yet a compelling emotional intelligence lies beneath these beautiful surfaces: the realization that growing up can mean discovering all the pain the person by your side has been hiding.

The upheaval begins with a bereavement, followed by the discovery that the family home may no longer belong to those who have made it a true home. Elinor Dashwood and Marianne Dashwood, accompanied by their mother and younger sister, must trade the security of Sussex for a less comfortable financial situation in Devon. Tom Brooke and Stacy Martin lend this inheritance dispute a particularly unpleasant domestic dimension: selfishness becomes easier to practice when it can be presented as sensible household management. The most effective aspect of the screenplay lies in this connection between personal disappointment and financial dependence. Every invitation, every visit, and every potential attachment has consequences that go beyond mere romance. A key point: the family’s difficult situation concerns the loss of status as much as the loss of money. These women still possess an education, connections, and hopes; what they have lost is the power to assume that any of these advantages will protect them.

Daisy Edgar-Jones makes the character of Elinor Dashwood captivating thanks to the tension lurking beneath her composure. Her reserve stems from a practical necessity: someone must remain available to absorb the distress of everyone else. Her performance becomes particularly moving when courtesy compels her to participate in conversations she would clearly prefer to avoid. Opposite her, George MacKay imbues Edward Ferrars with a hesitant honesty that makes their attraction believable without glossing over its complications. Their shared reserve lends their brief exchanges an unusual weight, even if the romance could occasionally benefit from a more pronounced shift in pace. There is also a fruitful ambiguity here. Good intentions offer little comfort when they cannot be expressed or put into practice, and the film leaves room for the question: at what point does this admirable self-control begin to harm the very people it is meant to spare?

Esmé Creed-Miles brings a more spirited energy to the role of Marianne Dashwood, whose thirst for new experiences makes emotional caution seem like a genuine insult. Her performance captures the heady confidence one feels upon discovering someone who seems to share all one’s enthusiasms: mutual understanding can then appear as proof of character, before experience comes along to prove us wrong. Frank Dillane, as John Willoughby, exudes just enough seductive ease to make this mistake understandable. What truly gives substance to the differences between the two sisters, however, is the affection hidden behind their mutual exasperation. Neither of them fully appreciates the way the other is suffering. A revealing detail from the casting process reinforces this dynamic: Daisy Edgar-Jones told Entertainment Weekly that she and Esmé Creed-Miles had previously worked together on Pond Life, and that their shared history helped them when they reunited for the table reads. Their chemistry is perfectly suited to a relationship in which annoyance and tenderness must coexist without explanation.

The physical world receives just as much attention. Director of photography Arnaud Potier uses 35mm film and natural lighting to give the countryside a texture that can seem welcoming one moment and indifferent the next. There is beauty here, but relatively little certainty that this beauty will improve anyone’s situation. The costumes add a particularly thoughtful detail. In British Vogue, Daisy Edgar-Jones described the sisters’ individual “capsule” wardrobes as clothes you feel you could slip into, rather than formal outfits put together for a scene. This approach is important in a story where resources are limited: a believable wardrobe suggests continuity, habits, and constraints that extend beyond the frame. Roger Goula provides a musical outlet for the feelings the conversation holds back. At times, however, the cumulative emphasis on atmosphere gives the impression that the film is reluctant to break away from its own melancholy. A bit more abruptness would lend greater strength to the gentler moments.

The supporting cast highlights both the strengths and weaknesses of this approach. Fiona Shaw brings a welcome touch to the role of an exuberant matchmaker whose interest in others’ affairs can come across as both intrusive and generous. Her presence shifts the social dynamic: suddenly, the sisters must contend with someone who refuses to respect the silences that surround them. Caitríona Balfe lends dignity to their mother, though her own sense of disorientation could have been explored further. Herbert Nordrum faces the challenge of bringing to life an older, reserved suitor alongside more immediately expressive characters. His gravity is understandable, but his romantic charm doesn’t always come across with enough force. The problem lies in the balance of focus. After devoting so much attention to the sisters’ emotional lives, the film sometimes asks the audience to accept other developments that would otherwise deserve just as much patient attention.

There is a revealing connection between this adaptation and Blue Jean, the director’s previous film about a woman monitoring her behavior under social pressure. Through very different contexts, Georgia Oakley explores what people must suppress in order to remain acceptable. An anecdote from the set offers another perspective on this attention to the details of life. In an interview with The New Yorker, she recalls playing a nurse in Atonement and discovering, inside a closet, meticulously labeled vials—even though they never appear on screen; this experience helped spark her interest in film. This attention to a world that exists beyond the visible scene fits this subject perfectly. The balance between emotional gravity and social absurdity, however, is not always successful. Jane Austen allows foolishness and anxiety to coexist in the same room. Here, anxiety sometimes takes over too much, leaving it up to humor to pick up the pace rather than adding complexity to what we’re watching.

What ultimately earns this Sense and Sensibility its place is the attention paid to how the sisters learn to understand one another with greater kindness. Their contrasting temperaments cease to be mere convenient labels once both have realized the fallacy of their preconceptions. The film isn’t quite as consistently lighthearted as its famous predecessor, and its preference for a subdued emotional tone sometimes leads to repetitiveness. Nevertheless, Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles bring enough distinctiveness to this central relationship to justify a fresh look at familiar events. Georgia Oakley finds something quietly painful in the expectation that the person you can count on will always come through, and something equally moving in the passionate person’s discovery that others feel things just as deeply. This is an elegant adaptation—though at times a bit too controlled—whose most powerful moments lend as much weight to sisterly affection as to any declaration of love.

Sense and Sensibility
Directed by Georgia Oakley
Written by Diana Reid
Based on Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Produced by Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner, India Flint, Jo Wallett
Starring Daisy Edgar-Jones, Esmé Creed-Miles, Caitríona Balfe, Frank Dillane, Herbert Nordrum, George MacKay, Fiona Shaw
Cinematography : Arnaud Potier
Edited by Izabella Curry
Music by Roger Goula
Production companies : Working Title Films, November Pictures, Kiddo Films
Distributed by Focus Features (United States), Universal Pictures International France (France)
Release dates : September 15, 2026 (Odeon Luxe Leicester Square), September 23, 2026 (France), October 16, 2026 (United States)
Running time : 132 minutes

Viewed on September 14, 2026, at Le Grand Rex movie theater, Theater 6