Love & Friendship (2016) is based on Jane Austen’s novel Lady Susan, and, for those unacquainted with this literary genre practically invented by Mz Austen, this is a very droll movie, indeed, so dry that one feels the sands of the desert slowly sifting through one’s mouth as Lady Susan Vernon (Kate Beckinsale), a widow, gradually wreaks carnage throughout her late husband’s family. Having a convenient intimate in Alicia Johnson (Chloë Sevigny), we get a view of both sides of the coin, as she plays the men for fools and then details her results and further plans to Alicia in what might be best described as a high sociopathic manner. The traditional mores of society have vanished completely from the metaphorical plateau, and we are delivered tart observations on the foolishness of men, and the dangers of other women.
The plot is trivial, the characters are all. Beckinsale is impeccable as Lady Susan, while Chloë Sevigny is more than adequate as her confidant. The other ladies are more or less competent in their parts. The other gender – for the most part, their foolishness makes me hesitate to actually place them in the category of men – is also more than adequately represented by their portrayers.
Alas, the pacing of the movie is flawed. For most of the movie, Lady Susan flirts here and there, nearly marries and then breaks the engagement. And then, her erstwhile swain is abruptly married to Lady Susan’s daughter, and then a note is delivered reporting the marriage of Lady Susan herself to the movie’s buffoon. There is no real build to a climax, and perhaps a comedy of manners doesn’t really need such a thing, for the goal seems to be to amuse the audience with a character who can illuminate some of the absurd manners which, oddly enough, serve to oil the machinery of humanity which works none-to-well (with thanks to Heinlein). Still, it instills in the tale a curious flat quality, a sense of no change in the rhythms of the lives of the characters. Characters change, yet life continues apace. Perhaps this is a goal of Mz Austen.
As a final note, at least for American audiences, one must be on the ball and paying close attention. Unlike most contemporary movies in which dialog and images are embossed into the brain much like a design is embossed into a leather gauntlet, Love & Friendship merely presents the dialog, with no cue as to what the importance of this line of dialog might be, or into what genre, if you will, it falls. One must garner from content only whether this is merely operational chatter, or if one character or another is committing a gross violation of the rules of polite society for the benefit of the humors of the audience. Do not plan to play with your smartphone during this flick, for it will serve you poorly.
