Here’s a rare thing: a piece of entertainment that we watched together, side by side, in the ever-supportive, positivity-beaming company of Kermit, Nashville’s premier tuxedo cat and mindfulness mentor. (A week with Kermit refreshes the soul like nothing else.)
This light-suffused, candy-colored Emma is highly stylized visually, and almost farcical in its telling of the story. Although it’s not my number one version of this delectable combination of fairy tale (Emma is a captive princess) and fable (the moral of the story hits you over the head most emphatically)—I loved every minute of it. Anya Taylor-Joy was bewitching in the title role, Johnny Flynn reimagined Mr. Knightley as a 19th-century Mick Jagger, and Bill Nighy dang near stole the show as Emma’s neurotic papa, Mr. Woodhouse. Miranda Hart is perfection in the supporting—but crucial—role of Miss Bates.
What’s my number one version? This one. If you haven’t seen it, get on that. There are far worse things than back-to-back Emmas.
Shush now so I can get back to Phoebe reading Sense and Sensibility into my ears. (Consider that a bonus knit-to-this suggestion, for which I’m grateful to dear Nell Ziroli.)