We begin on a silent black screen. Then, an invocation of the author whose words will be put to screen in the coming two hours. “Emma Woodhouse,” prays the blackness, “handsome, clever, and rich…” It is as if this screen, well-aware of the task ahead, is working from the outset to win favor with the spirits that safeguard the narrative it is attempting to retell. In a way, the stage has been set. Emma. will not be offensive or demeaning. It will not be crass or out-of-place. It will be funny when funny is called for and straight-faced when funny is wrong. Above all, it will be genteel and polite to the work of a genius. It will gladly serve as the messenger for Ms. Austen’s mastery; her marketing in the modern era. The black screen yields to a refined Emma Woodhouse crafting a bouquet. We are underway.
Offensive it is not. For the next 124 minutes, we are treated to the most innocuous humor that this very British cast can muster. Quite tellingly, one of the script’s first jokes regards the pronunciation of the word “innocence.” It is mildly frustrating at times. But one must be contented to accept that not every period piece can replicate the crude brilliance of The Favourite. Instead of Lanthimos, Emma. finds its muse in the inimitable Anya Taylor-Joy, who plays a role both entirely new to her and at the same time absolutely perfect. She is everything one pictures when reading Austen: refined, regal, vain, yet all the while naïve and endearing. She glides through the first half of the film with a disciplined ambivalence for those outside her circle, then perfectly complements it with a yearning and emotional transformation as the story progresses. Taylor-Joy is the queen of Highbury and of this picture. Her costars do well to reflect her radiance, enough that one wishes at times to see more of them. But the story flows on.
Pace seems an issue early in the film, as director Autumn de Wilde skips from one scene to the next while introducing characters and arcs. There’s little that could be sacrificed in the second half to make room, though, and we are left with just barely enough time to drown in Ms. Woodhouse’s despair and rejoice in her romanticism in those most important moments towards the story’s end. Perhaps another ten minutes would’ve helped. Or perhaps, like any deviance from gentility, it would’ve brought the film too close to an independent work of art. And judging by such things as the lack of cinematographic flavor and a rather cobbled soundtrack, to be a work of art by its own merit is not this film’s primary intention. Its most daring venture is the period at the end of its title. All that said, it is enjoyable and it is sweet and it is not a poor experience.
Though not a masterpiece, Emma. is decidedly handsome and agreeable. Worth the watch.
3.5/5 STARS