The new Sense and Sensibility: When two pinkies touching is scintillating

This is a film where two pinkies nearly touching for half a second on a table becomes scintillating.

Sometimes what you need is the simple thing done well.

In a year that's given us aggressively new takes on everything from Homer to Bronte, director Georgia Oakley (Blue Jean) has turned to Jane Austen and boldly dared to do something straightforward.

The new Sense and Sensibility is not a slavish retelling. Its focus is on sisterhood. Its tone is distinctly freer, its morals a bit more modern. Its deep atmosphere has more to do with Romanticism than Austen.

But at its heart, this is the classic story shot well, cast well, performed well and paced well. Oakley has crafted a beautiful film that is a pleasure to sit through.

For those who haven't made it to Austen's novel, Sense and Sensibility (1811) centres on the eldest two daughters of the Dashwood family, as they're forced to leave their idyllic English country life after their father's death, and the various gentleman and scoundrels that circle them as possible husbands.

Roughly speaking, it's a dramedy about the place of love, passion, and pragmatism in a world where marriage is the key economic prospect in women's lives.

Oakley's adaptation embraces its comedy and foregrounds the warmth between sisters as it sets up its plot with an impressive absence of audience handholding. It's immediately looser and more naturalistic than the likes of Ang Lees' beloved 1995 adaptation. The hair is, quite literally, down.

But as it progresses, it also weaponises the power of restraint.

This is a film where two pinkies nearly touching for half a second on a table becomes scintillating. Its elegantly choreographed and shot dance sequences begin begin to border on sultry. When one of the sisters is told - by a politely smiling rival - that her paramour considers her "tolerable", you may find yourself at the edge of your seat, hand deep in your popcorn.

Its dual lead actresses - Daisy Edgar-Jones (Normal People, Twisters) as sensible eldest daughter Elinor; and Esmé Creed-Miles (The Sandman, Silver Haze) as lovestruck artsy middle child Marianne - do a lot of the lifting.

Creed-Miles especially finds a way to make endearing a character that has in past (sorry, Kate Winslet) arguably, come off as a bit annoying to those with younger siblings.

She finds a way to deliver lines like "I require so much!" with simultaneous hilarity and insight.

Combined, the pair infuse the early sections of the film with enough charm that later patches of lengthy dialogue and tilts towards melodrama are easily forgivable.

The rest of the cast is exceptionally well chosen. Among them, George MacKay (1917 - the film not the year) is mesmerising as chief love interest Edward. And Fiona Shaw as Mrs Jennings, the broadest role, is delightful.

Equally strong is the cinematography (Arnaud Potier). Nearly every shot is elevated into something rich and interesting by choices. It wears the fact it's partly shot on 35mm film proudly.

The animal-heavy symbolism - there's animals everywhere - is evocative of Jane Campion's Bright Star, and its cold English countryside has hints of Cary Fukunaga's Jane Eyre. It supplements the relatively austere realism of Austen with romantic atmosphere. The costumes and sets are gorgeous, lived-in and tactile. The make-up and hair choices are distinctly modern.

These choices add up to create a distinct vision but, overall, they are hardly radical departures. Clueless (1997), after all, is among the great Austen movies.

Where the new film sits on that pantheon - or whether it pips Emma Thompson's 1995 Sense and Sensibility - are moot points.

This year's adaptation is worth watching on its own right.

Boris Jancic is a member of RNZ's digital team and reviews films.