RANDOM JOTTINGS

Rant alert.

Where do I start? Just where do I begin to write about this morass of utter awfulness which is the adaptation of Sanditon?  So much to say.

First up, somebody tweeted last night "I am enjoying Sanditon but I expect the Janeites are clutching their pearls". I took exception at this and tweeted an irate answer saying that I was more likely to be clutching a gin and tonic.

Another tweet saying all Janeites are howling because of what has been done to Austen. Well, again I tweeted back that it is not Austen, it is Andrew Davies.

We all know that Jane died after writing a mere few chapters of Sanditon. In my previous post I have referenced this and mentioned the two recent editions which have been published.  I don't think that anybody views this is as a Jane Austen Novel and nobody should touch it. We understand that if we wish to know what happens next it has to be left to somebody else's imagination.

Andrew Davies was responsible, some 25 years ago now, for the most wonderful Pride and Prejudice which captured the nation's imagination and had huge viewing figures. And, yes, we all remember the Wet Shirt scene, but that was just a small part of the whole which was done so beautifully.   But since then Mr Davies seems to think that we cannot have any version of a classic novel unless it has sex in it. Now, we all know that underneath those tight breeches and demure high waisted dresses feelings abound, we know it, but blimey does Mr D make sure that we do.

After P and P he did a Sense and Sensibility which had Dan (Downton Abbey) Stevens chopping logs in a sweaty shirt while Eleonor palpitated in front of him.  All wrong.

In his version of War and Peace it was all heaving bosoms and hints of incest and long boring scenes of glamour and candlelight while characters yearned after each other. Only in the last two episodes did any kind of reality creep in and those two were the best of the entire dramatistion.

He also did a superb dramatisation of Bleak House. But that was then and this is now and we come to Sanditon. Oh gosh. Oh blimey. Oh dear. How shall I describe how bad it is – let me count the ways.

Ok so we have the following:

• Naked men running into the sea
• Naked man arising from the sea
• Feisty white heroine
• Feisty black heroine
• Old Bag (obviously modelled on Lady Catherine de Burgh)
• Brooding hero who seems to be an amalgam of Heathcliff and Darcy and Mr Rochester
• Scene of said brooding hero stripped to the waist in a wrestling match
• Scene of said hero in smoky tavern where nasty horrid men are slapping the local tart's backsides and making vulgar and salacious remarks – all reeking of atmosphere
• Feisty white heroine bonding with feisty black heroine who seems to want to throw herself off a cliff. They become great friends and I fully expect them to be engaged in a relationship by the end of episode three the way this is going
• Step sister and step brother who seem to have the hots for each other
• Step sister says her lines in a drawl which I assume is meant to be sexy. Other than that she does little except pose and smoulder
• Step brother an obvious cad

Ok I could go on and, as you know, I frequently do. It is not just the utter stupidity of it all, the poor GI, the bad acting and the godawful script, no it is just so bloody boring and slow.   No turn has been left unstoned to pile on the cliches.

The sight of Sydney arising from the waves last night and shocking Our Heroine was just risible and I burst out laughing..

It is Dire. Dire. Dire.

And yes I shall continue watching because of that. It is exerting a dreadful fascination and I cannot wait to see what depths are waiting to be plumbed.

PS the dark brooding hero is played by the same actor who died in Lady Mary's bed in Downton Abbey. Remember that? Wonder what will happen to him this time.   One can only hope….