As familiar as I was with Jane Austen through 2005’s Pride & Prejudice, starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen, and subsequent adaptations such as 2020’s Emma, I had very little idea of the story of Sense and Sensibility. Going into this film blind was a real gift. There is something wonderful about discovering a classic without knowing where its characters will end up, allowing every disappointment, unexpected arrival and possibility of romance to unfold before you.

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While its story is different from those other Austen adaptations, the heartbeat is immediately familiar. It lives in the characters, in their complicated relationships and in the distance between what they feel and what they are actually able to say.

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Following the death of their father, the Dashwood sisters and their mother find themselves facing an uncertain future. With their family home passing to their half-brother, they must leave behind the life they have known and begin again in more modest circumstances. At the centre are sisters Elinor and Marianne, whose different approaches to love are tested as new relationships bring hope, heartbreak and complications neither could have anticipated.

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Narratively, Sense and Sensibility begins with tragedy. There is the deeply personal loss of a father, but also the gradual realisation that the security of home and the future the family once imagined are disappearing with him. That gives the romance real weight. These are people trying to find love while the foundations beneath their lives are shifting.

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From there, the story unfolds in that wonderfully Austen manner. Feelings develop but remain unspoken. Expectations form, only to be interrupted by circumstance, time and the obligations people carry. Just when an outcome appears straightforward, another character enters the narrative and changes the possibilities.

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Coming to the story without knowing its destination made those developments particularly rewarding. Each new arrival adds another layer, enriching the lives of the characters while complicating what initially seemed like simple paths towards happiness. There is a real recognition of life in that. We rarely know everything about the people around us, and our hopes are often shaped by circumstances we cannot see.

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What is particularly striking about director Georgia Oakley’s adaptation is the way she uses the English countryside. The film takes time to pause and drink in the beauty of a meadow, a forest or a living creature. There is room to breathe, to take in the world these characters inhabit rather than simply hurry through it on the way to the next development.

That pastoral beauty gives the film a rich foundation. It adds to the romance, certainly, but it also gives the story a strong sense of place. The countryside feels woven into its identity, grounding the drama in a recognisably English world and giving its moments of longing and possibility an even greater sweep.

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Daisy Edgar-Jones is wonderful as Elinor Dashwood. She brings a beautiful innocence to the role, coupled with a clear understanding of how difficult doing the right thing can be. There is a belief in goodness here, even when holding to it comes at the cost of her own happiness and the freedom to choose the life she wants.

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Edgar-Jones makes Elinor’s restraint compelling. You feel the weight of what she carries and the effort involved in keeping so much of it to herself. It is a performance that gives the quieter parts of the story considerable emotional force.

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As Edward Ferrars, George MacKay brings a grounded believability to a role with comparatively less screen time. There is something convincing about the honour he carries, both in his treatment of others and in his feelings for Elinor. His presence gives their relationship a sincerity that makes you care about what might become of it.

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But the outstanding performance belongs to Esmé Creed-Miles as Marianne. A wild child with a passionate heart, she brings tremendous life to the film. Marianne feels deeply and throws herself towards the possibilities before her, yet there is also a sensitivity beneath that spirit which makes her far more than simply the impulsive sister.

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Creed-Miles captures that combination beautifully. Her performance gives Marianne an energy that is difficult to look away from, while making her vulnerability equally affecting. It is a phenomenal turn, and a star-making performance.

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With narrative beats and characters that carry the unmistakable heartbeat of Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility is a wondrous adaptation, filled with romance, outstanding performances and all the glory of the British countryside.