I had eagerly awaited the first screening of this film ever since it was given to me on DVD at Christmas. Having reserved a special slot for it last night, I sat down to watch it with my daughter (aged 17 and a Film Studies student), with chocolates of course, in eager anticipation. We love Jane Austin.

After just the first two minutes we knew we were sunk. The shaky camera shots and angles, general poor cinematography, direction and wooden performances had already left us feeling flat and dissatisfied. Despondent, we viewed on.

Anne, played by Sally Hawkins, looked oddly and with no particular purpose, directly at the camera on several occasions, breaking our hard-won 'fantasy of the moment' and engaging us directly in an almost 'I'll find you' stalking fashion.

Poor Rupert Penry-Jones, who played Captain Wentworth, did his best with the script and direction, bless him. I hope they paid him well, however, as he was practically drowned on one occasion by a huge wave which predictably breached the seawall, drenching him and his co-actor. They were nearly swept out to sea. Health and Safety would have had a field day! Poor Rupert was left spitting out sea water in order to deliver his line. Presumably there was not enough money left in the kitty for a re-shoot of this scene. Anyone with any sense would have not attempted it on such a day in the first place.

Other than Mr. Penry-Jones, Alice Krige gave the only convincing performance as Lady Russell but her efforts were soon counterbalanced by those of Anthony Head's unconvincing portrayal of annoying Sir Walter Elliott.

Towards the long-awaited end of the film, Captain Wentworth appeared to oddly grace Anne with a visit every two seconds having taken great pains to avoid her for the majority of the movie. It was as if he had developed a memory impediment which caused him to forget his very reason for being. In contrast, Anne ran, hyper-ventilating, from pillar to post in search of the good Captain who, in the meantime, had managed to call upon almost the entirety of Bath we are told, in the course of only three or four minutes, without even having worked up a sweat.

We experienced none of Anne's charms crossing the screen. Indeed, we were left wondering what charismatic Captain Wentworth had ever seen in plain, spineless, opinion-less Anne and why someone, anyone, did not tell mean, winging Sir Walter to just shut the heck up.

The crucial kiss, normally our favourite girlie moment, was painfully drawn out. As they moved in closer, Anne kept opening and closing her mouth which had the effect on screen of making her look as if she were chewing gum before lips finally met. Eww!

The most enjoyable thing about last night was the chocolates and the half hour exchange of views between mother and daughter on just how bad the film had been.

What a pity to ruin such an enchanting and engaging story, filmed in some of England's finest scenery.

Sorry Jane.

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(a).