Monologue: "Sense and Sensibility"
Monday, November 4, 2013 at 11:33PM Andrew here with your weekly monologue.
Of the half dozen, or so actresses, who ruled the awards’ races in the nineties Emma Thompson’s reign of the decade is my favourite, especially for how it subverts the notions of what kind of performances awards bodies like to honor. Usually, dissenters of award competitions cry out that they're intrinsically terrible always mistaking the Biggest for the Best but the love affair with Emma in the 90s is proof as good as any that quiet excellence can be appreciated, too. Emma’s exceptionally worthy Oscar win for Margaret Schlegel in Howards End (1992) is one of the most low-key turns to have earned the statue. Yet more muted is her Elinor Dashwood three years later in Sense and Sensibility (1995), the deliverer of this week's monologue.
Sense and Sensibility is the best title Jane Austen came up with and Emma and Kate Winslet match the titular adjectives both in character work and affectation. Kate's performance is more pronounced and easily appreciated while Emma's is quieter, and sometimes all too easy to ignore. Because as good as Sense can be it’s not inherently riveting to watch, which makes Emma’s work such a treasure; she manages to command the screen even as Elinor plays everything close to the chest. Even in Elinor's monologue, which is significantly her most explosive moment (grading on a curve), her every move is still rooted in good sense and breeding.
A visit from the gossiping Mrs Jennings reveals that the infamous Mr F(errars) who has Elinor’s heart has been betrothed all along is not news for us or Elinor, but a shock for her sister Marianne (Winslet). How could Elinor have kept this information to herself for so long? But always sensible Elinor is resigned to her fate.
"Edward made his promise a long time ago, long before he met me. Though he may... harbour some regret, I believe he will be happy--in the knowledge that he did his duty and kept his word. After all--after all that is bewitching in the idea of one's happiness depending entirely on one person, it is not always possible. We must accept...."
This part of the monologue is so more like a traditional soliloquy because there's the sense that Elinor isn't saying this to convince Marianne but to convince herself. As the eldest she's always been forced to be the pragmatic one, especially now with their father dead and their mother bereaved. This self-effacing pragmatism is not so much innate, but an active decision she makes for the best of everyone around her. The pause after "we must accept", however brief, is significant. She can't even finish the statement.
"Edward will marry Lucy--and you and I will go home."
“Always resignation and acceptance. Where is your heart, Elinor?” Marianne interrupts, almost petulantly. This time her youthful romanticism is too much for the audience, and Elinor too.
"What do you know of my heart? What do you know of anything but your own suffering? For weeks, Marianne, I have had this pressing on me without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature. It was forced upon me by the very person whose prior claims ruined all my hopes."
There’s a moment where her voice cracks on that word hopes, it's the rare moments where Elinor allows her emotions to betray her and one can only imagine how exhausting it must be being Marianne's older sister. The younger sister is a charismatic gem, but she sucks the life and attention out of a room whenever she wishes to. Casting an older actor as Elinor adds to the drama - if only young Marianne could learn to be more quietly mature, or if only Elinor could be as youthful spontaneous.
I have had to endure her exultation again and again while knowing myself to be divided from Edward forever. Believe me, Marianne, had I not been bound to silence I could have produced proof enough of a broken heart even for you.
This entire final outburst, a rare example of Elinor lashing out, is still done with a hushed voice. Elinor will always defer to propriety and avoid the scandal of anyone overhearing her. The truth of the words cut Marianne in their harshness but there's no sense that Elinor regrets them. And, yet, she is Sense so she must act sensibly. The film does not allow her to wallow in self-pity after her outburst. Marianne seems more torn about being scolded than Elinor is allowed to be at a broken heart. And so the kindness of sense prevails.
Elinor rises to console Marianne as if her heart has been broken and Emma Thompson does the slightest of grimaces.
It's an unusual monologue, never loud or commanding the usual ways. And, yet, Emma commands our attention. It's one of her truly remarkable gifts as an actor. She doesn't need to raise a voice to demand attention. No wonder she was one of the Queens of the 90s.
Reader Comments (11)
This monologue! I once made one of my best friends--who is not the Jane Austen type--watch this whole movie knowing that the strength of this scene alone would sell it. He loved it. Obviously.
Somewhat off-topic, but I'm curious:
Can someone explain to me what's spectacular about Thompson's performance in Howards End? I love the film, and I generally like her as an actress, but I'm always struggling to grasp what it is about that particular performance that led to such an unparalleled award sweep, not to mention decades of adulation.
Lovely post and a great scene. The last section of it was the Oscar clip, if I recall correctly.
goran -- i think we would need 5,000 words.
I loved Emma in HOWARD'S END (it's not my Fav Ivory) but not so much in SENSE & SENSIBILITY (too mature for her role), infact I thought that Kidman or Moore or Bassett could have filled her spot in 1995 Best Actress Race
Dear Goran,
I do not understand the love for Howard's End either.
Pfeiffer was superb that year in Love Field. Mainly because the character is so so so annoying and she managed to make us believe in her.
Sarandon should have won for Lorenzo's Oil. Mary McDonnel was a good surprise.
Nice one, Andrew. Brilliant actress with impeccable timing as we can admire in this beautiful scene. I clearly remember how I sobbed the first time I saw it.
Considering the quality of all her nominated work, I wish her love affair with the Academy would have lasted a little bit longer.
PS Speaking of monologues, her work in Wit is also mesmerizing.
I could watch this scene and her final happy/cry breakdown on a loop. And her commentary track for the S&S DVD is also a performance for the ages. (Now write that 5000 words about Howards End...such a centered, subtle, moving performance.)
This film is PERFECTION. I can watch it over and over again. All the performances, script, direction and production are superb. The climatic scene with Elinor and Edward contains my favourite ever film dialogue. Emma's dvd commentary and diary on the making of the film are terrific. In my head it swept the Oscars rather than just getting the one. At least it swept the Baftas!
Great scene from a wonderful movie. I've always loved the scene between Alan Rickman, in another stellar piece of work, and Emma where he has his monologue explaining about Eliza's child Beth and Willoughby. His playing of the scene is so wonderfully subtle and their interaction the meeting of masters of lowkey but persuasive acting.
Restraint is why it is great. Not only do you realize her love for her sister's but here we get a glimpse of what is really going on in her heart. She opens the window quickly and closes it. It is a brief flash of frustration and heartbreak. Because it is in her nature to be sensible it is suprising and all the more heartbreaking. I