It’s easy enough to imagine dating a man like Mr Darcy, isn’t it? The film is absorbing and packed with action and you soon find yourself drawn into the story. A moment later, The Hand returns…this time, landing a bit lower, on the curve of your shoulder.(See my earlier Pink Ink post, Dating Mr Darcy…For Real.) It’s certainly no hardship to picture yourself sharing a candlelit dinner for two, or a sleigh ride on a snowy country lane with the taciturn but forbiddingly handsome Darcy… So you attempt to let him down gently, in the most polite way possible. You have no interest in marriage, you inform him firmly. And there will most assuredly be no wedding, now or ever. You mention your cousin and tell him that she’s unattached but, unlike you, is looking for a serious relationship. You balk, and try to think of an excuse to turn around and go home, until several patrons seated nearby hiss at you both to sit down. You feel something warm and damp land on your shoulder. “Mr Elton,” you hiss as you swat him away, “kindly keep yourself to yourself! Say you’ll be mine.” You struggle to free your hand.“I do hope you like it.” “It’s perfect, Charles,” you assure him.“Just like you.” As he leaves, it occurs to you that brooding, handsome men are all very well in books and films. Here are some facts you might not have known about the 2005 Pride and Prejudice, from little Easter eggs thoughtfully placed throughout the film to behind-the-scenes drama. Darcy" followed by lots of kissing — did not test well with British audiences.So, whether you're a BBC purist or think this version was superior, it's hard to deny that a lot of thought and effort went into making the 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Peter William Coonan (born Peter William Sutcliffe; 2 June 1946) is an English serial killer who was dubbed the "Yorkshire Ripper" by the press.In 1981, Sutcliffe was convicted of the murder of 13 women and the attempted murder of seven others.
Following his conviction, Sutcliffe began using his mother's maiden name and became known as Peter William Coonan.
…and so easy to imagine him choosing the perfect wine for a romantic dinner ; sitting tall beside you in the sleigh as he guides the horses though the snow (or maneuvers his Aston Martin expertly through heavy traffic); and brushes his lips against yours as he bids you good night and leaves you at the front door. The next day he asks your best friend Charlotte out, and after a brief, whirlwind (and in your opinion, completely baffling) romance, the pair are engaged to be married. So you (reluctantly) agree, thinking that perhaps you can fix him up with your unattached cousin Harriet. (A little spot of matchmaking never goes amiss.) Mr Elton seems moderately interested and agrees to meet her. ” “But dearest,” he whispers passionately in your ear, “I cannot hold my feelings back. I want to marry you.” “No,” you whisper, earning evil glares from nearby members of the audience, “it’s Harriet you want. She’s…perfect for you.” “i have no interest in your cousin,” he objects, and leans forward to grip your hand tightly in his. “Take me home at once,” you demand, “or I’ll fling this extra-large cup of soda all over your starched white neckcloth! Needless to say, Mr Elton returns you home without a word (which is fine with you). When your best friend Jane wants to fix you up with her ex-boyfriend Charles (she hoped he’d pop the question but he never did), you refuse. “He’s sweet and pleasant and lots of fun,” she urges. And,” she adds, lifting her brow, “he’s a ginger.” You’re sold. Envisioning James Norton and going all soft and gooey inside, you relent and agree to go out with him. Bingley announces he’s taking you to the Christmas market (“Only,” he hastens to add, “if that meets with your approval? Although he’s not quite James Norton, he’s agreeable and good-natured and easy to be with, and to your surprise, you have a wonderful time.
Mr Darcy, Mr Knightley, Colonel Brandon, Henry Tilney, Edward Ferrars, Captain Wentworth…all of them compelling, all heroic in great ways and small. Mr Collins is smug; Charlotte is thrilled; and although you’re convinced she’s taken complete leave of her senses, you pretend to be pleased and wish her well. That’s it, you decide grimly as you shut the door to the sound of him revving the engine as he peels away from the curb in high dudgeon. And although it’s true he can be a bit silly at times, and his relentless desire to please can be somewhat exhausting, Jane is right. And as you address your wedding invitations a month later (being sure to include Harriet and the odious Mr Collins on the list, so you can rub your good fortune in his face), you reflect that perhaps dating all of those non-Darcys wasn’t such a waste after all.
You suffer through an hour of listening to him sing the praises of someone named Lady Catherine, and sit in silence as he boasts about her excellent taste and extreme generosity. “I’ve brought you tea, dearest,” Bingley announces, beaming as he hands you a cup of Darjeeling and leans down to kiss you.
Politely but firmly you remove it and return your attention to the screen.