Not so - it is worth stirring out of your house for; though it isn't perfect, it's pretty good. The script is literate and thoughtful, the acting first rate - though my judgement is not to be trusted here as I would gladly watch Fassbender sit on a sofa and read a book for three hours - and visually the film is stunning. Most of it has been shot using natural light, which does give it a rather gloomy appearance, especially the scenes in Thornfield Hall, but the period detail is exquisite and the panoramas of snow-sprinkled moors are heart-stoppingly lovely.
The critics have celebrated Mia Wasikowksa's performance as Jane for its restraint, which must be largely down to the director, but seem to feel that this has been achieved at the expense of passion. I would have to agree with this and pass straight to the central dramatic crux of the story. Jane Eyre is about a girl who has learned from bitter experience to hide her naturally passionate feelings beneath a carapace of icy composure.
It is this composure over the mouth of a volcano that captivates Rochester, drives his desire to possess Jane, motivates his increasingly desperate and (some would say) cruel attempts to break Jane's self-control. The climactic and justly celebrated central scene of the novel, in which he forces Jane to admit she loves him, is achieved by Rochester very deliberately using Blanche Ingram to make Jane jealous, and finally goad her beyond endurance, until her composure cracks and she delivers that heart-searing speech about how her spirit addresses his spirit, as if they had passed through the grave and stood at the feet of God, as equals.
This is immensely powerful drama, but it fell flat in this film because Wasikowska's delivery was not that of an impassioned young woman tormented by jealousy and unrequited love, but that of a rather petulant teenager not getting her own way. This was a shame because in other respects the strange battle of Jane's and Rochester's relationship was delicately and plausibly evoked. The film emphasises Jane's fierce desire for independence, her essential stubbornness, as her motive for refusing to submit to Rochester; it's entirely plausible that Rochester should fall in love with her, and that he should be baffled by his successive attempts to deceive her, then overmaster her.
Fassbender gives the part a real sense of grief, of desperation. The scenes following the abortive wedding were brilliantly done. A good word, too, for Jamie Bell as St John Rivers, doing his best with an unsympathetic part and impressive as ever. What a pity we couldn't have had Jane Eyre with Ruth Wilson and Michael Fassbender. I'd definitely go out in the cold cold snow to see that.
