(Written By Intern, Miranda Zampogna)
From traditional recreations to modern reimaginations, Jane Austen’s entire collection has long served as a most influential draft upon the romantic comedy genre, since their initial transcription to the screen in the year 1938. To give Ms. Austen her due, her visionary work, penned in the Regency era, remains quite relatable for modern ladies, who value their independence as much as diverting courtship. Not long ago, Keri Russell’s metatextual Austenland indulged in the latter, centering around a literary devotee who immerses herself in a resort themed after the novels, and engages in a spirited fling with her very own Darcy proxy. Laura Piani attempts a similar undertaking with her directorial debut, Jane Austen Wrecked My Life, following this precise outline. Alas, what is meant to be another love letter to this most esteemed author, ultimately, delivers a page of trite and emotionally stunted prose.
Camille Rutherford stars as Agathe, a lonely French bookshop keeper, haunted by a traumatic accident and a lingering sense of isolation. Warm, golden lighting attempts to establish a cozy atmosphere, but quickly descends into a repetitive cycle of Agathe’s routine: reading love notes, enduring her nephew and sister’s pity, and engaging in tepid flirtations with her womanizing coworker, Félix (Pablo Pauly). She struggles with her passion for writing in her claustrophobic setting, confined mostly to the library, until a Jane Austen residency in England offers a glimmer of escape. Agathe’s inexplicable fear of transportation and panic attacks mar this pivotal moment, where this contrived drama feels hollow. Moreover, deeper themes, such as impostor syndrome and grief, are never fully explored with any meaningful depth.
Upon arriving in England, Agathe meets Oliver (Charlie Anson), a cynical literature professor and descendant of Jane Austen, who operates her heirloom estate. Their initial encounters are marked by clichés, including a vomit-inducing first impression and predictable forced proximity. A culture-clash between French and English sensibilities potentially diverges, yet remains cursory, ignoring the impact of societal expectations, notable in Austen’s work. The beautiful English countryside, however, provides a visually pleasing backdrop, lending a much-needed sense of expansiveness to the otherwise confined narrative. Although imitative conventions never charm, Agathe’s liberation, echoed in her environment, and the writer’s block she faces while on a deadline, reliably reflect individuality.
Austenian parallels are direct, with Agathe self-proclaiming to be like Persuasion’s Anne Elliot and casting Félix as Henry Crawford of Mansfield Park. Nevertheless, this excessive inclusivity dilutes focus and becomes disingenuous. Spoken platitudes’ dearth of resonance fails to connect on a human level, despite this being one of Agathe’s goals as a writer. Romantic tension between Agathe and Oliver develops at a glacial pace, stilted by a foreseeable love triangle, where both suitors feel interchangeable. By the end, even the most urbane audiences will long for cheesy sex appeal, as characters’ amorous flames are largely doused.
An exploration of loss, finally surfacing in the third act, feels belated and insufficient. The culmination of Agathe’s writer’s block is intended to be cathartic, though the resolution is rushed and lacks the emotional weight it should carry. In terms of romance, it never reaches a satisfying conclusion. Instead, this love story stays in its beginning stages, devoid of any compelling heartbreak that could have coincided with the larger themes of bereavement. A highlight in the finale is a resonant poetic reading by filmmaker Frederick Wiseman, who cameos. Piani overly relies on this poem to inorganically effectuate her central concept, and makes it obvious that this scene, as a short, would have been more effective.
Fundamentally, Piani’s Jane Austen Wrecked My Life bears the air of a mere preface to a romance, rather than a fully formed volume. While the idyllic setting and occasional footnotes of literary allusion offer fleeting glimpses of what might have been, its reliance on well-worn plot devices, shallow developments, and affectless dialogue renders it a lackluster and forgettable experience. Attempts to evoke the spirit of Jane Austen, instead, produce a vacant facsimile.
See if Jane Austen Wrecked My Life captures an Austen-ticity when it debuts Friday, May 16.
