It is a truth universally acknowledged that Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice is a story of limitless possibility, at least where adaptations are concerned. Beyond straight period-set retellings of the original, its story has inspired everything from a modern-day romance (“Bridget Jones’s Diary”) and a Bollywood musical (“Bride and Prejudice”) to a murder mystery (“Death Comes to Pemberley”) and a horror story (“Pride and Prejudice and Zombies”).
There are so many updates, homages, and contemporary remixes that it’s fair to wonder if there’s anything new to say about Austen’s most famous novel. Surely, we must have seen it all by now, right? How pleasant it is to be so thoroughly proven wrong. Because BritBox’s “The Other Bennet Sister” not only finds fresh joy and new purpose in the world of Austen’s classic, but puts one of the author’s most frequently forgotten characters firmly at the center of her own story.
Based on Janice Hadlow’s 2020 novel, the series follows the story of Mary (Ella Bruccoleri), the frequently overlooked middle Bennet daughter, whose bespectacled, bookish demeanor sets her apart from her four sisters: Beautiful Jane (Maddie Close), witty Elizabeth (Poppy Gilbert), good-humored Kitty (Molly Wright), and spirited Lydia (Grace Hogg-Robinson). The family wallflower who is frequently criticized for her appearance and lack of social graces, she’s fully aware of her own limitations, if only because those she’s closest to won’t stop telling her about them.
Still, Mary finds joy in reading and other intellectual pursuits—one of the few facts about her we know from Austen’s novel—and never lets the constant criticism she receives make her hard or hateful. Indeed, she still believes in and longs for love and acceptance, and it is this consistently open-heartedness that makes her loved ones’ rude treatment sting all the more fiercely.
Over the course of ten briskly paced thirty-minute episodes (truly the dream!), “The Other Bennet Sister” breezes through the events of Pride & Prejudice from Mary’s perspective—the introduction of Mr. Collins (Ryan Sampson) is particularly harrowing—before following her from Hertfordshire to London. There, she quickly blossoms in the company of an aunt (Indira Varma) and uncle (Richard Coyle) who appreciate her for all the traits her immediate family regularly mocks. Given free rein to choose her own dress fabrics and make new friends, Mary begins to build a life for herself that’s all her own.
The series is warm and heartfelt without ever becoming cloying, a love letter to introverts, outsiders, and other weirdos who have never felt they fit in. It is also achingly romantic, as Mary discovers not one but two potential love interests who are drawn to her because of her more offbeat personality quirks rather than in spite of them. Donal Finn, having himself quite the year between this series and his turn as a Gen Z James Moriarty on “Young Sherlock,” is positively dreamy as the (potentially unavailable) barrister Tom Hayward, while Laurie Davidson crafts a gleefully subversive take on a Regency rake by giving his William Ryder a forward-thinking, modern flair. An embarrassment of riches for poor Mary, perhaps, but what a win for those of us watching at home.
Bruccoleri shines throughout in a star-making turn that’s fully unafraid to lean into Mary’s weirdest and most socially awkward tendencies. Even during her character’s most embarrassing moments, her performance never comes off as a caricature, and she maintains a quietly moving dignity in the face of purposeful cruelty from figures ranging from Caroline Bingley (a deliciously waspish Tanya Reynolds) to her own mother (Ruth Jones). Most of all, her Mary is deeply relatable, from her bursts of self-determination and empowerment to her worries about being stuck alone forever. Most of us haven’t been a Jane, or a Lizzie, or even a Lydia. But at some point in our lives, we have all been Mary.
If there is a real weak link here, it is probably the story’s choice to cast Mrs. Bennet as such an overbearing horror, a decision aided (or harmed, depending on your point of view) by Jones’s deliberately outsize performance. While it’s clear that part of Mrs. Bennet’s behavior is driven by fear—her daughters must marry, or they’ll be turfed out of the family home and left with no means to support themselves—there’s far too much overt cruelty in her interactions with her daughter and not nearly enough care. As for Mary’s father, Richard E. Grant is given little to do as Mr. Bennet beyond rolling his eyes at key moments.
It’s also true that Austen purists will balk at the series’ speed-run through the events of Pride & Prejudice, which comprise the bulk of its first two episodes and ignore or alter some of the story’s most famous moments. (The show’s not particularly kind to Lizzie either, rendering her a bit smug and mean in a way that will also likely ruffle some feathers.) But “The Other Bennet Sister” hits its stride at almost the precise moment that Mary leaves Longbourne, blossoming into a period romance that isn’t so much about finding a husband as it is about finding oneself.
If Bridgerton is making the period drama spicier as a genre, “The Other Bennet Sister” is moving in the opposite direction, embracing a more thoughtful interiority that we don’t often see in this space. While we are graced with multiple swoony romantic moments and a dreamy pair of love interests, this isn’t a show about a wallflower finding a partner, but rather a young woman finding herself.
All ten episodes screened for review. Premieres May 6 on BritBox.
