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'Becoming Jane': See Jane write, see Jane pine

We know so little about the real Jane Austen that it takes a certain amount of cheek to speculate on her romantic entanglements, real or suspected. The same holds for investing her with sensibilities that may or may not have been claimed even by this writer and woman of independent mind.

Upon her death in 1817, at a mere 41 years of age, many of Austen's letters were destroyed by her sister Cassandra. We are not even entirely sure what she looked like, apart from a sketch made by her sibling. Nor do we know if the one brief encounter she had in her life ever involved more than a few dances at a ball.

What we do know is that Austen bequeathed to the world six of the finest novels in English literature, rich in irony and uncommonly shrewd on the provincial middle-class mores of her time. But author and character are not necessarily the same, however much we might like to believe in autobiographical intent, conscious or otherwise.

Directed with some, but not quite enough, flair by Julian Jarrold, the highly conjectural "Becoming Jane" is a handsome film that takes many liberties with Austen's life, if not her legacy. Set in 1795, we meet Austen (Anne Hathaway) as an outspoken 20-year-old of strongly held opinions who is just beginning to imagine that she might make her own way in the world as a writer.

This, of course, appalls her mother (Julie Walters, wonderful as always), who fears that Jane's standards for affection among prospective husbands will leave her an old maid. Or worse, an old maid in penury. "Affection is desirable," mom counsels, "but money is absolutely indispensable." And, indeed, she does have a moneyed suitor, one of noble blood. Clumsy, stiff and stolid, the chief attribute marshaled by Mr. Wisley (Laurence Fox) is that he is the nephew of local aristocrat and social arbiter Lady Gresham (Maggie Smith).

Enter attorney-in-training Tom Lefroy (James McAvoy), an equally outspoken chap from London who enjoys the verbal sparring, the clink of foils, between himself and Austen. Sparks fly when first they meet, but not of the romantic kind. Not right away, that is. Most see him as a dangerously irresponsible sort. And, after all, as a lawyer he will only be a tradesman (this was before attorneys joined the billionaire class).

But he senses what buttons to push with her. When Jane talks about the craft of writing, saying, "A novel should reflect reality; it must reveal the true source of our actions," Lefroy asks what a cloistered one such as she knows of life outside her home in the country. "If you wish to write fiction to equal that of masculine authors," he tells her, "experience is vital." He is being suggestive, of course, and on several levels, underscoring the point by giving her a copy of Henry Fielding's scandalous novel "Tom Jones," which satirized the stilted sentimentality of the day. Jane may think Lefroy arrogant and presumptuous, but good writing is her weakness, and she becomes intrigued with him in spite of herself.

The feeling is mutual, but there are impediments to this blossoming affair.

Though her minister father (James Cromwell) wants Jane to have the man of her choice, he has to concur with his wife's conventional wisdom on the matter. Wisley has tendered the best and most appropriate offer Austen is likely to receive. The alternative, dad tells her, is risky: "Nothing destroys the spirit like poverty."

Austen, however, is nothing if not headstrong.

Hathaway, excellent in last year's "The Devil Wears Prada," is moving seamlessly into adult roles. She is well cast as Austen — winsome, intelligent, lovely — though both she and emerging character actor McAvoy ("The Last King of Scotland") do not wholly convince as people of the period. It is hard to put your finger on precisely what, but there is something that is too contemporary, too modern, about the two stars.

That said, the performances are well handled all round, and director Jarrold ("Kinky Boots") makes up for some questionable tonal choices by keeping the actors on an even, understated keel. Smith may be playing her 200th variation on Miss Jean Brodie, but she is always a welcome presence, as is Cromwell ("The Queen"), who has made a corner of late playing Brits.

The screenplay by Kevin Hood and Sarah Williams harbors a few cultural anachronisms, but also delivers a number of sparkling witticisms and deft turns of phrase, especially useful in a movie with such thoroughgoing melodramatics.

Given a beautiful landscape with which to work, Eigil Bryld's photography is textured and generally well composed, especially in a series of evocative long shots and the occasional, riveting close-up.

Yet his lensing also has a tendency to call attention to itself, to be self-consciously arty, with symbolism completely lacking in the subtlety that the real Austen admired.

Like the lady said, one should reflect reality.

Reach Bill Thompson at bthompson@postandcourier.com or 937-5707.