Director Autumn de Wilde’s Emma (2020) is a fun, frothy adaptation of Jane Austen’s beloved novel that sparkles with wit; Emma refreshes the book’s familiar love story for modern audiences with artistic choices that make it different from the original source. The new film adaptation centers on the privileged life of 21 year-old Emma Woodhouse, who is “handsome, clever, and rich” and possesses “some of the best blessings in existence”, but can’t keep from meddling in the romantic lives of her friends and love ones. Originally published in 1815, the popular novel has been adapted to the big screen yet again, this time by novelist Eleanor Catton, whose clever script updates Austen’s tale of misguided romance and comedy in a progressive way. So how is the movie different from Austen’s original tale?

In the 2020 movie version, Emma is portrayed with coquettish flair by Anya Taylor-Joy, whose penetrating doe eyes and self-aware coyness strike the right balance between the character’s genuine kind-heartedness and smug superiority. Emma lives at home with her finicky and aging father, played with gleeful relish by Bill Nighy in a small but scene-stealing role, and is frequently visited by her moralistic brother-in-law and life-long friend, resident bachelor George Knightley, (characterized with intense candor by Johnny Flynn). Leading a charmed life, Emma avoids the societal pressures of matrimony by placing her aristocratic nose into the business and romantic interests of others. Predictably, her match-making skills leave a lot to be desired, and complications ensue that drive the plot toward Emma’s own romantic awakening.

Wilde’s vision of Emma is whimsically nuanced, punched up with vibrant colors, a droll soundtrack, deliciously eccentric performances and a slick self-assuredness akin to the story’s eponymous character. Taylor-Joy’s Emma saunters about the fictional village of Highbury — spoiled and proud, yet inherently likable — the most-popular girl of Regency England. The movie captures the playful tone, satire and penetrating wit of Austen’s novel, and Wilde takes care to satisfy cherished staples of the Regency period drama canon — elegant ballroom scenes, lavish set design, comedic impropriety contrasting the period’s strict decorum, witty dialogue, and a revelatory moment in which the film’s protagonists stride across a lawn toward one another to boldly declare feelings of long-repressed love. Although Wilde expertly plays within the contextual themes of the novel, she inserts a few modern twists of her own — most notably, the film’s underlying statement about masculinity and the shifting power dynamics of gender roles.

Emma (2020) Adds Humor

Although Austen’s prose is lauded for its wit, irony and social satire that often lands somewhere between ridicule and reverence, the newest adaptation of Emma interposes its own sly jabs and slapstick humor into the story. Bill Nighy delivers an audacious performance as Mr. Woodhouse, Emma’s hypochondriac father, whose dry British humor and constant fiddling merits laughs from nearly every second of his short screen time.

Another turn of comedic excellence happens in an early scene while Mr. Elton, a puffed-up, social ladder-climbing vicar (played with camp by Josh O’Connor) is giving a sermon. He enunciates the word “innocence,” but draws out the pronunciation to sound like “inn-ohhhh-cence,” giving the line a clever double meaning because both the characters and audience are aware his pompous words and manners are “in NO sense.” The wordplay is a stroke of brilliance worthy of Austen’s own pen.

Emma (2020) Offers Glimpse Into the Interior Lives of Characters

Wilde’s hyper-stylized version of Emma succeeds most when it tackles the source material with originality and shifts the lens to a perspective not typically seen in Austenian adaptations, and certainly not represented within Austen’s own novels. These added scenes offer the audience an intimate glimpse into the banality and every day goings-on of the landed gentry.

In one scene, Mr. Knightley flashes his entirely nude backside as he is stripped down and dressed by his servants. The scene is surprising — it conveys vulnerability by removing his aristocratic armor and topples gender expectations of nudity in the film. Another scene depicts Emma, standing by a fire and lifting her skirt up to her waist in an effort to toast her bare bottom. Neither scene is explicit or sexualized, but instead offers a “cheeky” commentary on the interior lives of the British gentry class.

The Movie Changes Emma’s Reaction to Knightley’s Confession

At the film’s climax, Mr. Knightley clumsily confesses his profound love to Emma, leading her to confront past misconceptions and come to the overwhelming realization of her own unconscious feelings. At the height of this dazzling declaration, Emma has a most unbecoming and decidedly human reaction to this news — she gets a nosebleed. The nosebleed is a genius addition to Austen’s original story line: in one way it humanizes Emma, who is being betrayed by a bodily function; in another, it highlights the imperfect, often messy nature of love. Emma’s spontaneous nosebleed subverts the audience’s expectations, playing off a long tradition of melodrama and sentimentality typically present in the romantic comedy genre.

Emma (2020) Changes Mr. Knightley For Modern Audiences

One of the biggest changes to Emma in the movie adaptation is the fully-realized characterization of Mr. Knightley. With chin-grazing mutton chops, Johnny Flynn looks more like a Hobbit of the Shire than the traditional Austenian leading man, but his salt of the earth depiction of Mr. Knightley is layered with nuance and tempered with a range of internal conflict bordering on the existential. Although the book’s Mr. Knightley is a practical and compassionate man who serves as a sort of moral mentor to Emma’s younger self, his stuffy demeanor and counsel come off a bit stale to modern sensibilities. Flynn’s representation of Knightley — ardent and uncertain in the pangs of love — is both refreshing and appealing, transforming the character into one of flesh and blood.

In one particular scene, Mr. Knightley finds himself overwhelmed by the force of his passion and throws himself onto the floor of his estate — Donwell Abbey, breathing heavily and tearing at his cravat and overly-starched collar in a moment of panicked exigency. In another scene, Mr. Knightley’s eyes are seen tearing up at a wedding. These flashes of vulnerability and emotional awareness introduce a new, softer brand of masculinity to the character that compliment Austen’s 19th century heroine from from a 21st century sensibility.

Emma (2020) Shifts Sex and Power Dynamics

In the book, Mr. Knightley is 16 years older than Emma, which would have been a normal age difference in Austen’s time, but might seem uncomfortable and antiquated to modern viewers, not to mention a bit creepy. Flynn’s scruffy, 20-something boyish looks and earnest, slow-burning desire for Emma help to reconcile the age gap and shift the power dynamics of the original novel, making it more palatable for modern audiences.

During Austen’s time, women were not only corseted at the waist, but were restrained by strict social etiquette and laws that prevented them from owning or inheriting land. Emma is different from Austen’s other heroines in that she possesses a large fortune, which eliminates the urgent need for matrimony. In a very modern way, Emma is able to approach the subject of marriage from a perspective of desire over necessity. But even with this type of economic security affording her a certain independence, the book’s Emma is still under the reign of patriarchal rule and gender power dynamics.

Wilde’s Emma updates the romantic relationship at the core of Austen’s story by balancing the power dynamics and sexual politics of Regency England. Similar to the way Greta Gerwig’s award-winning 2019 adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women adjusts outdated elements of the story to accommodate a modern, feminist perspective, Wilde and Catton empower the film’s leading female characters with a refreshed mindset of equality and agency, and offer an evolved representation of masculinity. By the film’s conclusion, Emma has found more than just her romantic match — she’s found an equal.