I was so proud of myself for that opening line. And I can’t deny that it still goes hard.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman of any kind, must be in want of a husband. A woman cannot choose to live a life independent of heteronormative relationships and family life, and if she does, this is treated as a failure on her part and a mystery that needs to be solved. One such example is Jane Austen. Biopics and representations of Jane tend to focus on her gender and sexuality in a conservative way that minimizes her autonomy and decisions in life. Miss Austen Regrets (2007, dir. Jeremy Lovering), on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air in its complex, nuanced portrayal of Jane’s gender and sexuality, as well as her experiences as a woman writer in the Georgian era. Much more than most other Austen representations, this film humanizes Jane, demystifying her and granting her the respect that she deserves as both an author and a person.
Miss Austen Regrets presents a three-dimensional woman with hopes, dreams, interests, and flaws. As Starks notes, the film “provides a full epistemological break from standard female author biopics” (303), in which narrow characterization, narratives about suffering or victimization, and the subject’s marriage and children generally dominate the subject matter. Miss Austen Regrets portrays practically the opposite. She is clever, witty, confident, equal parts mature and playful, fun-loving—perhaps a bit too fun-loving at times—irreverent, and imperfect. She does not allow herself to be victimized or pitied for her deliberate decision to never marry. She resists others projecting feelings of regret onto herself; when Fanny learns that she had rejected Harris in her youth, Jane snaps at her: “You can be angry with me, Fanny, but don’t you dare feel sorry for me” (1:16:25–1:16:31). The film stresses Jane’s independence: instead of striving to solve the mystery of why Jane never married, or presenting this as a deficiency in her life, it instead affirms her deliberate choice to eschew the heteronormative lifestyle of a woman whose only role in life was to attend her husband and children. As Lucy Worsley puts it in A Very British Romance: “Under English law, when a woman married, she ceased to exist” (19:42–19:48). By pointedly rejecting this lifestyle and erasure of her personhood, Jane is able to focus on her writing and her relationships with the women in her family, particularly with Cassandra and Fanny. At the end of the film, near death, Jane states that her only regret in life is not her “missed” chance at marriage, but rather that she will be leaving her sister and mother without any money. Miss Austen Regrets shows a highly positive portrayal of Jane’s decision to live beyond the bounds of heteronormativity.
Another crucial part of the film is how it emphasizes Jane’s sexuality and sexual desires. Miss Austen Regrets breaks from the centuries-long tradition of “dear aunt Jane”, refusing to sanitize her and her desires. She is not a saint who never allows an impure thought to cross her mind; rather, she is an adult woman, with normal adult impulses and desires. Jane is highly flirtatious throughout the film, toeing the boundaries of respectable behavior at times. She flirts with a vicar to tease him and amuse Fanny, and later enjoys an evening under the attentions of a Parliament member. This is, however, seen most prominently in her scenes with Dr. Haden, where she admires him with a less than wholesome eye. Her desire for him is emphasized from her own point of view; Starks notes that “the camera follows Jane’s gaze on Haden as her voiceover brings the spectator into Jane’s inner desires for him” (304). Though nothing physical happens between them, the film allows ample room for her attraction without condemnation or judgment. She even teasingly tells Cassandra: “Thinking didn’t come into it. My mind was not involved” (1:06:04–1:06:10). Whereas female characters in many films, not just biopics, are punished for having sexual desires, Miss Austen Regrets accepts and even encourages Jane’s sexuality. It fights back against the more common portrayals of dear aunt Jane and demystifies her to show her as a regular person with regular sexual desires.
The film additionally takes Jane’s work as a woman writer very seriously. Her writing exists at the forefront of her character; she talks often of her current projects, and even jokingly refers to the newly published Emma as her baby. The characters also frequently discuss the themes of Jane’s novels; through them, the film shows two different interpretations of her novels. Fanny, a young hopeless romantic, talks only of the love stories and dreams of finding her own Mr. Darcy. This is the shallow view of Jane’s books that persists even today, which only considers the romantic comedy aspects of her work. Other characters—Edward, Dr. Haden, and Jane herself—are more interested in the social commentary beneath the romance. When Fanny declares that her aunt’s books say that love is the only thing that truly matters in a match, her father advises her to read them again, a nod toward Jane’s discussion of women’s need for economic security in marriage. Later, when Jane first meets Dr. Haden, he offhandedly refers to her books as sentimental; she then tells him: “You’ll have to take the word ‘sentimental’ back, if you want to truly prove you’ve read mine” (43:02–43:07). Miss Austen Regrets pushes back against common shallow readings of Austen novels as simple, sentimental romances. As Starks says, “Jane cleverly makes fun of others who misjudge her and misread her novels as sentimental romance, demystifying much of the distinctive ‘branding’ of Austen’s works and the construction of literary celebrity” (304). The film argues for a deeper reading and understanding of Jane’s satirical commentary on the precarious social and economic status of women in her society, as well as her biting critiques of shallow novels of sensibility. However, the film is also realistic about what it truly meant to be a woman writer in the Georgian era. As in real life, Jane struggles to receive proper compensation for her bestselling books. She cannot meet with publishers herself, as this would be unbecoming of a woman, and she is instead left to the mercy of her brother Henry negotiating on her behalf. Henry is clearly unfit to deal with economic matters, especially after his bank collapses, but he is automatically considered to be qualified due to his gender. Jane is unable to live off of the money that she does receive, and she and the women in her family must rely on her brothers for income. The film takes Jane’s writing very seriously, stressing to viewers that there is a deeper meaning underneath her fictional romances; this also, however, extends to her struggles to publish and receive compensation in real life as a woman writer in the Georgian era.
Miss Austen Regrets offers a refreshing, nuanced take on Jane Austen’s gender and sexuality, as well as her work as a woman writer. The film takes great efforts to portray her as a person and uplifts her choice to break from the heteronormative lifestyle at the time. It also demystifies her as a literary icon, demonstrating the person that she was in life rather than the sanitized myths and depictions that have endured since her death. Though no biopic can ever truly capture a person in their entirety, Miss Austen Regrets comes extremely close in how much it humanizes Jane Austen, her independence, and her choices in life.
“Georgian Romance.” A Very British Romance, directed by Sebastian Barfield, performance by Lucy Worsley, BBC Television, 2015.
Miss Austen Regrets. Directed by Jeremy Lovering, BBC Television, 2007.
Starks, Lisa S. “Screening Will and Jane: Sexuality and the Gendered Author in Shakespeare and Austen Biopics.” Jane Austen and William Shakespeare: A Love Affair in Literature, Film and Performance, edited by Marina Cano and Rosa García-Periago, Palgrave Macmillan, 2019, pp. 291–310.