Continuing on my quest to give full reviews to the better and/or most widely available adaptions of one of my favorite novels, here’s what I consider the very best 1983’s BBC miniseries of Jane Eyre. With 11 half-hour episodes, this version covers the entire book and uses a great deal of the actual text, unlike many of the shortened versions.
Zelah Clarke is perfect as adult Jane (the first two episodes cover Jane’s horrible childhood, where Siân Pattenden does an admirable job). This really is the Jane of the book — she looks plain, but not ugly; she’s feisty but learns how to channel that into sharp wit; she’s fiercely independent yet craves the connection of love and family that she was denied as a child; she seeks justice in the world and passion in her life. This production and this actor understand that Jane Eyre isn’t a meek little governess heroine. She’s no cliché, she’s complicated. That’s why she’s interesting and why the book is so good.
Likewise Timothy Dalton is surprisingly suitable as Rochester — some folks think he’s too pretty for the part, but Rochester is supposed to be a fine gentleman, brooding and dark in manner, not unattractive. Jane sees in him both the conventional life she didn’t think she could have and a wild passion similar to hers.
Tl;dr — if you’re a fan of the book itself, I think you’ll love this adaption. Doesn’t hurt that the costumes are perfectly suitable too! They’re by Gill Hardie, who previous to this, had done the first season of All Creatures Great and Small (1978) and other BBC work. The story starts in the 1820s for Jane’s childhood (her school friend Helen Burns dies in 1824), and then the main story takes place in the 1830s.
For an example of the earlier costumes, check out Jane’s aunt Mrs. Reed, who wears an elaborate cap with her 1820s gown, though it’s hard to see the actual silhouette.
Compare with a similar style of cap (though worn by a younger woman) in this fashion plate:
The Reed daughters’ high-waisted frocks are a bit more indicative of the period:
Fast-forwarding to when Jane becomes governess at Thornfield Hall, the costumes are solidly 1830s.
Jane’s dresses have the pleated front, small waist, and big sleeves so typical of the period.
Jane’s clothing is fairly plain, but she does have appropriate and elegant lace collars, called pelerines, that accessorize her looks. These were very popular, and this shows that she’s not abjectly poor and she has taste.
An extant example:
Only when Blanche Ingraham visits do everyone’s costumes get a bit fancier. Jane wears a pale dress (described in the book as her best dress, “the silver-grey one”) to slightly level up to Blanche and her fashionable friends.
This white and blue print gown worn by a guess is similar to this fashion plate:
Mr. and Mrs. Ingram are snooty, rich, and well-dressed.
When Mrs. Reed sickens and dies, Jane returns to find her cousins, Eliza & Georgiana, in mourning:
Then there’s Jane and Rochester’s ill-fated wedding:
I do see a bit of embroidery and trim on Jane’s wedding headdress when, in the book, all she wants is a “square of unembroidered blond” (meaning lace) as a veil. Her wedding gown is simple and shaped appropriately — although white wedding gowns were still pretty rare at this time and didn’t become trendy among the elites until Queen Victoria’s wedding in 1840.
For her obligatory wandering the moors, Jane throws on a cape, but you can still see a bit of a lace pelerine.
And when settles in with St John Rivers and his sisters, she continues her plain but historically accurate garb.
Right through to the end, because this miniseries does tell the entire story of the novel, not cutting it short!
Find this frock flick at:
100% agree! Best Jane Eyre adaptation to date, though I’d love a well-done, updated miniseries — the sets and filming style are looking pretty dated.
My favourite adaptation forever. It’s undoubtedly the best one if you’ve read the book. Timothy and Zelah’s chemistry is incredible. I love that it takes its time with the dialogue and in allowing Jane and Rochester’s growing relationship to develop slowly and naturally.
Thanks for this recommendation!
(I hate when Blanche is made to be blonde. She’s supposed to be a brunette, darn it.)
Thanks–my opinion, exactly! (And Mr. Rochester is supposed to be almost ugly in a hot, manly kind of way, which is why I prefer Ciaran Hinds.)
My favorite of all the adaptations I’ve seen (starting with Orson Wells and Joan Fontaine). The miniseries format gave them the time to get it exactly right. Although this review didn’t mention them, I did love the various teachers costumes at Lowood – especially Miss Temple’s. They were all unique to the personality of the individual teacher. Especially loved Miss Temple’s wedding dress complete with bonnet. It seemed that once Jane was a teacher herself the girl’s uniforms were less puritan/mean and slightly more pretty. I know it doesn’t necessarily get a lot of love in period films, but I love the early 1830s here, with the still slightly high waist and the big sleeves. For whatever reason, it seems that so many productions seem to focus on 1840s fashions, and in this version’s costumes for Jane herself, I see a huge font of inspiration for Laura Ashley of the 1980s, where I worked for some time. I will also be thankful to this production for making me really notice Timothy Dalton and appreciate him before he became Bond. Seems like his career has never really been conventional, but that may have been his own unique take on which roles would most satisfy him. There’s something about him roaring, “you shall walk the pyramids of Egypt!” that makes me smile. Pity this was not all shot on film stock, but that was the Beeb’s practice back in the day. Doesn’t make it a lesser adaptation, and as far as I’m concerned (with due respect to Toby Stephens and Ciaran Hinds) there’s no other Rochester for me.
That picture of them together – she is SO tiny! She must be around the height that Brontë herself would have been …
I was so disappointed at the time that Zillah Clarke never appeared in anything else.