What I Watched: Jane Eyre Times Three

After going through an intense reading phase at the end of the summer, my brain decided to switch gears suddenly and very dramatically — as it is wont to do — and became completely engrossed in period dramas. A quick reshuffling of my streaming subscriptions ensued, followed by the discovery of the free streaming app Tubi (thanks to an inexplicable determination to wreck myself by rewatching Howards’ End, a movie that makes me almost as mad as Atonement, do NOT get me started). This opened up some broad new horizons for my viewing pleasure, which somehow led to my decision to wade into the debate about which Jane Eyre movie is the best. A decision almost as inexplicable as my eagerness to watch period dramas that make me angry-sad.

I should probably explain.

In the Austen/Brontë fan wars, I am firmly Team Austen. Even during my angstiest teen years, I never liked the Brontë oeuvre. I couldn’t finish Wuthering Heights, only finished Jane Eyre because I skipped 2/3 of the book to read the last chapter, and never even started The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. It’s not that I categorically dislike tortured, even morally grey romantic heroes; I just don’t enjoy the so-called Byronic model seemingly favoured by the Brontës. Especially since groveling doesn’t seem to be in their heroes’ romantic repertoire, and it’s the only thing that can redeem Byronic tendencies in my book. (I read a comment on a sub-Reddit that the Brontës modelled all of their heroes on their alcoholic, opium-addicted brother, and that really stuck with me. Also, the real Byron was an extremely sh*tty boyfriend, just saying.)

My knowledge of Jane Eyre’s plot comes mostly from pop culture and social media, so I am definitely not au courant with the subtleties of the protagonists’ characterization, motivations, and so forth. As such, I am not qualified to make a pronouncement on which movie is the best adaptation of the book … but I am well-positioned, I think, to assess the merits of these movies as romantic period dramas, relative to each other. Needless to say, I am going to throw a lot of opinions about, and if you find some of them stepping on your toes, just remember: there are no wrong answers here. Feel free to make your case in the comments, but let’s have fun with it, yeah?

There have been a bazillion Jane Eyre adaptations over the years, but my period drama-watching schedule is very busy and can only accommodate so many side-quests, so I decided to limit myself to watching 3 of the 4 most recent adaptations, in chronological order. I tried to watch all 4, but Franco Zeffirelli’s 1996 movie is not available on any of the *many* streaming platforms I can access, and I refuse to pay extra to watch William Hurt emote Byronically. As it was, in the span of a week I watched: the 1997 television film, the 2006 BBC series, and the 2011 movie. It was … a lot. But also sort of fun, in a fever dream Groundhog Day kind of way.

Jane Eyre (1997)

Jane is played by Samantha Morton, who is very very good. I enjoyed her portrayal of the character the most in this movie; her Jane is clearly very intelligent and, though reserved, not meek. There is an impression of strength, alongside the innocence/naivete. Morton makes it clear that Jane comes to admire/love Rochester because he treats her like an intellectual equal. As this is a movie, there isn’t a huge amount of time devoted to their “courtship” phase, but the basis upon which it develops is made clear from the actors’ performance. Without (apparent) make-up, Morton is relatively passable as a “plain Jane”, which is more than can be said about the other actresses on this list. I only mention this because, as with Rochester, much is made of Jane’s physical appearance, including in her famous “poor, obscure, plain and little” self-description (which no version of the story I’ve watched fails to include). It is a personal pet peeve when obviously conventionally good-looking people call themselves plain or ugly. Morton gets a pass, just. She is helped, to no insignificant degree, by some of the drabbest costumes I’ve seen in any period drama.

Rochester is played by Ciaran Hinds, who is probably closest to Brontë’s vision of the character but not my personal favourite in this line-up. Hinds plays up Rochester’s gruffness, especially at the beginning of the story, but also does a good job conveying the character’s softer moments and his respect for Jane’s intelligence – definitely a case of the bark being worse than the bite. (Speaking of which, it’s worth noting that the dog playing Pilot in this adaptation is absolutely freaking adorable. Definitely a point in Rochester’s favour here.) However, the romance quotient for this Rochester is pretty low, imo. Forget sizzling chemistry; his thing with Jane seemed mostly a cerebral sort of affair. That may well be very faithful to the source material but doesn’t make for an especially sexy movie. I will say that the vibe of both leads matched each other quite well. Their love story didn’t set my world on fire, but it made sense for them, in the context of the story as shown on screen.

Shoutout to Rupert Penry Jones who came out of nowhere in this movie, playing St. John Rivers. Clearly, I did not Google the cast in advance, or else I might have prepared myself better — though, I doubt anything could have prepared me for his dorky haircut. Penry Jones is a very attractive man, appropriately so since his character is supposed to be quite dishy, so I have no idea why they saddled him with such egregious hair. Anyway, his St. John has the vibes of an enthusiastic golden retriever, which I’m not sure is what Brontë had in mind, but whatever. It doesn’t matter that much, as this part of the story is pretty brief.

The overall look of the movie is, well, drab. The scenery, the sets, the costumes. It’s not gothic as much as genteel depression. But don’t get me wrong: I liked it a lot, especially for the performances of its 2 lead actors. On a scale of 1 to My Fave Period Dramas*, I give it a respectable 7.

Jane Eyre (2006)

Jane is played by Ruth Wilson, which required me to spend 4 hours pretending that Luther does not exist. It is a testament to Wilson’s acting chops that, for the most part, I managed to do so relatively successfully. I loved Wilson’s Jane, but I also don’t think she’s Jane Eyre, you know? She’s clever and spunky and not especially wallflowery — not to mention extremely pretty and damn near as tall as Rochester. I had a very good chuckle at the “plain and little” part of the famous speech, let me tell you.

Rochester is played by Toby Stephens who (like his mother, the late, great Dame Maggie Smith) takes to period dramas like a duck to water but is several magnitudes too good-looking for this particular role. When he moans about not being handsome, I was, like, “sir, have you looked in a mirror recently, because you sound very silly.” His Rochester is more cynical and bad-tempered than gruff, but he seems to get over it fairly quickly. Because this is a mini-series, there is more time devoted to the ‘falling in love’ part of the story — and it comes with plenty of heat. You definitely get the sense that this Rochester and Jane want to bang, not just exchange philosophical opinions. And they manage to squeeze in a fair bit of making out before the final act (no pun intended). It’s the sexiest version of the story, by a long shot.

And that’s even with accounting for the fact that we spend a good chunk of screen time with the Rivers subplot, which is dominated by St. John’s silly hat, dour expression, and complete inability to make anyone forget that Rochester exists and is (probably) brooding sexily somewhere. No offence to Andrew Buchan, who otherwise nails the character’s moral rectitude and almost-fanatical conviction. But whereas one could almost see Morton’s Jane be swayed by this version of St. John (on a cerebral plane, of course), there is no universe in which Wilson’s Jane would pick him over Stephens’ Rochester. Just saying. There is zero will-she-won’t-she tension here, which makes this part of the story feel like a real slog.

Overall, this series is quite lovely to look at — and, no, I’m not just talking about the 2 leads — and manages to marry pathos and romance without tipping into silly melodrama. It makes me almost like Jane Eyre … though I’m not sure how much credit I can give it as a faithful adaptation. But as a period drama, it’s an 8 out of 10.

Jane Eyre (2011)

Jane is played by Mia Wasikowska, for whom I have a rather big soft spot thanks to Crimson Peak. (Now that is a gothic drama done to perfection. The costumes! The sets! The bonkers plot! Tom Hiddleston waltzing! But I digress.) Wasikowska’s Jane is severely buttoned up, with sharper corners than Morton’s Jane and less emotionality than Wilson’s. She’s not exactly prickly, but that’s mostly because she externalizes very little emotion; her reserve borders on the repressed — but it’s hard to get a feel for what she might be repressing. This Jane is oddly bloodless.

Even more oddly, so is this Rochester. Considering that he is played by Michael Fassbender — known to set panties on fire the world over — this is probably going to be my most controversial opinion in this entire post, but I stand by it. Played by 2 very attractive people, this Jane and Rochester seem to develop only the mildest form of infatuation. With the exception of one scene (aftermath of the first fire-setting incident), it hardly seems like these two want to hold hands, much less pine endlessly after one another. I had heard so much about the chemistry in this movie, I was primed for a rip-roaring good time and was left thinking “wait, is this it??!?” Anyway, Fassbender’s Rochester is dialed-back and relatively tame as far as Byronic heroes go, which is not necessarily a downside as far as I’m concerned, but it does leave him at a disadvantage in a personality contest with the other Rochesters in this line-up.

Unfortunately, I think he also loses in a personality contest with Jamie Bell’s St. John. At first, I wasn’t sure about the filmmakers’ choice to use the Rivers subplot as a framing device for the movie, but it does allow for that storyline to play out more fully than in the 1997 movie, which in turn allows St. John to play a more prominent role. And Bell wipes the floor with everyone else, charisma-wise. We all know how the story must end, but I won’t lie — there was a little part of me that whispered, “girl, maybe going to India isn’t the worst idea” because there was an intensity to Bell’s St. John that hinted at potentially interesting depths. Put him in a room with any of the other 2 Janes and, you never know, we might end up re-writing the story. But not this movie’s Jane; she and her Rochester match each other’s low-key vibes well enough to make a go of it, I guess. Which is a compliment, by the way, to the casting and also the lead actors’ choices. While, on the whole, I personally prefer the (sexy) dynamic of the Wilson/Stephens pairing, both Morton/Hinds and Wasikowska/Fassbender manage to create believable couples — i.e. couples who suit each other’s characters. Put differently, I can’t imagine mixing up any of these actors and getting a better pairing.

Back to the 2011 movie, visually it’s the most arresting; the cinematography is beautiful, creating an almost lyrical atmosphere. The ending, however, is almost entirely botched — rushed, abrupt, deeply unsatisfying. Overall, I give the movie a (generous, tbh) 7 out of 10.

And, finally, here are my deeply subjective rankings:

Favourite Jane — (1) Samantha Morton, (2) Mia Wasikowska, (3) Ruth Wilson

Favourite Rochester — (1) Toby Stephens, (2) Ciaran Hinds, (3) Michael Fassbender

Favourite couple — (1) Wilson & Stephens, (2) Wasikowska & Fassbender / Morton & Hinds (it’s a tie!)

Most Brontë-esque vibe — (1) 1997 movie, (2) 2011 movie, (3) 2006 mini-series (maybe, but what do I know)

Favourite overall viewing experience — (1) 2006 mini-series, (2) 2011 movie, (3) 1997 movie

With all that said and watched, Jane Eyre remains fairly low on my list of romantic period dramas that I would happily rewatch on a loop, because in the end, one can’t entirely get away from the source material and I remain, now and always, Team Austen.

And with that, the comment section is officially open for you to yell tell me nicely why I’m wrong about everything 😉

_{* Which include, but are not limited to, North & South, Pride & Prejudice (BBC series and 2005 movie), and Middlemarch.}