My older sister and I have just finished watching BBC One’s Jane Eyre. The novel by Charlotte Brontë has always been one of my favorites, and Rochester and Jane’s story has always reduced me to tears whenever I go back to the book. I was excited when I found out BBC had done a miniseries for it — I adored BBC’s six-part Pride and Prejudice, and to date, I have only been able to watch one other adaptation of Jane Eyre — 1996’s Jane Eyre starring William Hurt and Charlotte Gainsbourg (which was alright, but rather lacking).
So I looked forward to this miniseries rather avidly. Ruth Wilson, while not pretty, seemed to be a bit more “colorful” than how I’d always envisioned Jane (strong brows, and overall a vibrant face); and Toby Stephens was bordering on pretty, which definitely wasn’t Rochester! But hey, it was BBC, I was sure it was going to be alright.
And it was, overall. The start was a little rocky — I couldn’t decide whether or not it was too slow or too rushed. Looking back at it, I think it was just right — it captured the feel and the mood of the book rather well. Like the flurry of activity and bright and vibrant scenes that’s in Pride and Prejudice — which fit the tone of the book — with Jane Eyre you have an a melancholy, reflective, and rather morose tone.