Half a league, half a league, half a league onward, into the valley of estrogen rode Judge Jim Thomas.
Our reviews of Emma (1996) (published October 23rd, 1999), Emma (2009) (published February 9th, 2010), Gwyneth Paltrow 4-Film Collection (published May 9th, 2012), Ivanhoe (1952) (published February 14th, 2005), Ivanhoe (1982) (published May 14th, 2009), Jane Eyre (1996) (published November 23rd, 2011), Jane Eyre (2011) (published August 11th, 2011), Jane Eyre (2011) (Blu-ray) (published August 8th, 2011), Lorna Doone (published March 17th, 2011), Pride And Prejudice (1995) (Blu-ray) (published April 2nd, 2009), Pride And Prejudice (1995): 10th Anniversary Limited Edition (published September 26th, 2006), Pride And Prejudice (2005) (published February 27th, 2006), Pride And Prejudice (2005) (Blu-ray) (published January 26th, 2010), Pride And Prejudice (2005) (HD DVD) (published November 15th, 2007), and The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) (published May 18th, 2013) are also available.
Fourteen discs of pure digital estrogen.
"Mikey, you've got to help me," I pleaded with Chief Justice Michael Stailey. "My wife has been very understanding about the horror movies, the action movies, the science fiction—she even appreciates that I've reviewed some cartoons for the kids—but she really wants me to review something that the two of us can watch together."
"Hmmm," he pondered. "You know what she really means, don't you?"
"Yes," I shuddered. "She wants me to review some…some…chick flicks."
"Jim, are you sure about this?"
"Yeah, it's gotta be done. Surely we've got a few romcoms lying about the office, right?"
"Leave everything to me." Stailey's voice was warm, reassuring.
Several days later, a large package appeared on my doorstep. Trembling, I unwrapped it. Chief Justice Stailey had taken matters into his own hands, all right—by flinging me directly into the path of a juggernaut. Specifically, he had sent me The Romance Classics Collection from A&E. Darcy…Miss Woodhouse…Thornfield…Sir Percy Blakeney…Wilfred of Ivanhoe…the Doone Forest…frippery beyond measure (which I put in just to up the site count on the word "frippery" to seven (well, now eight)—eight of the most beloved romances from the A&E vaults. Thirty hours of chick flick goodness—and I've got to watch all of it and review it in a little over two weeks. The sacrifices I make for my wife.
The set is nothing more than a repackaging of the A&E Literary Classics—The Romance Collection, with the MSRP cut roughly in half. In short, it's a double dip. The movies are exactly the same as in the previous set, with no restored images or new extras; the only difference is that instead of getting the movies in individual snapcases, you get a somewhat cumbersome book, with the discs on plastic pages, stacked two to a page. The stacked arrangement is a little clunky, and I've already had problems with discs falling out. They should have stick with the snapcases. On the plus side, the cover has portraits of the major characters, with Colin Firth's Darcy manfully holding the center position.
Overall, it's a good set. You get:
• Pride and Prejudice
These films were initially broadcast between 1995 and 2002. Overall, it's an excellent set, with a good deal of variety in style and tone. All the movies have solid Dolby Surround 2.0 mixes; there's no need to discuss the mixes of individual films (video is a bit more varied, though, and will be addressed as warranted). In the event that any of you guys out there get roped into watching any of these with your significant other, I'm including Judge Jim Thomas' Real Men's Guide to the Film with my discussions. This guide will enable you to watch any of these chick flicks safely, without endangering your manhood.
Well, enough stalling. Cover me, men; I'm going in.
Pride and Prejudice
The wonderful thing about the five-hour runtime is that it allows all of the plots to play out fully and at their own pace; something you don't often see in literary adaptations. Supporting characters in particular get developed to a degree you rarely see anymore; more importantly, the direction is sure enough that the five hours never drag. We get a real sense of the Bennett family dynamics, as well as the highly structured and mannered society within which they must function.
The acting is splendid, particularly that of the leads. Jennifer Ehle shines as Elizabeth, her quick wit and intelligence always right there at the surface. She handles the gradual shift in Elizabeth's feelings towards Darcy deftly and subtly; by the time she visits Pemberley (Darcy's estate) for the first time, we can already see that she is beginning to fall in love with him—which is critical if we are to avoid seeing her as a gold digger. Colin Firth leapt to stardom in the role of Darcy, as his cool demeanor slowly thaws in the presence of Elizabeth. Benjamin Whitrow as Mr. Bennett, though, is really an unsung hero—he holds things together, encouraging his more sensible older daughters while trying to imbue his younger daughters with some sense of their own (with decidedly mixed results). He advises without preaching, suggests without pontificating. His quiet talk with Elizabeth towards the end of the film, making sure that she loves Darcy the man and not the money, is a lovely depiction of a father whose only concern is the happiness of his daughter, not her financial security.
Video is a little uneven. Colors are a bit washed out, and there's a fair amount of grain, particularly indoors. Flesh tones are inconsistent, particularly between indoor and outdoor shots. I understand not wanting to do a full restoration, but is basic color correction really too much to ask for?
With all due respect to Keira Knightley, this version is the definitive take on Austen's most popular novel, and belongs in the DVD library of anyone interested in literary adaptations.
Real Man's Guide: The biggest obstacle with P&P is just keeping everyone straight. Luckily, I found a character map on Wikipedia.
To further your "sensitive guy" cred, after George Wickham's first appearance, comment "I don't know; he seems pleasant enough, but he has 'douchebag' written all over him."
Victoria & Albert
Most people think of Queen Victoria as a prude, but that's not the case—she and Albert were both very passionate. However, they felt it important that all members of the government comport themselves with dignity in public—as opposed to the rowdy spectacles of previous courts. There's a lovely scene shortly after Victoria's coronation that crystallizes the distinction: She's preparing for her first Privy Council meeting, and worries that she will be dismissed as a "silly little girl." She resolves to do her best to maintain her composure so as not to give anyone the option of dismissing her. During the meeting she displays grace and steadfastness, winning the respect of the council. As she leaves the meeting room, one minister comments to another that England finally has a monarch who understands the meaning of dignity—and we cut directly to Victoria, skipping down the hall and giggling, delighted that she actually pulled it off.
The performances are first-rate; given the presence of Diana Rigg, Peter Ustinov, David Suchet, and Jonathan Pryce in supporting roles, it's remarkable that the unknown principals have little trouble holding their own.
There's not a real plot per se, just a series of events that happen to be in chronological order. You can't really identify the moment at which Albert falls in love with Victoria; it just happens. You can't really point to any one event that makes Victoria decide to bring Albert into her official duties; it just happens. That's not necessarily a weakness, but the result is that the movie becomes more of a character study (characters study? Let's go with "relationship study"). With so much going on in the world during Victoria's reign, it must have been a challenge for screenwriter John Goldsmith to keep the story focused on the couple, as opposed to the myriad changes in the world around them. I can't help but wonder if a little more historical grounding might have helped, though; for one thing, what was the cause of the rift between William IV (Ustinov) and Victoria's mother, the Duchess of Kent (Penelope Wilton, Shaun of the Dead)? While the movie is enjoyable, I get the distinct feeling that it would be even more enjoyable for English audiences or for Anglophiles, whose knowledge of English history would allow them to connect the dots. As a result, this is the one film in the collection that suffers from the lack of extras.
Real Men's Guide: Forget the "Prince Albert in a can" jokes. You've got James Callis (Battlestar Galactica)—Gaius Baltar himself—in a brief role as Albert's older brother Ernest. Really, at this point the jokes pretty much write themselves: "Have fun with Vickie, Al; I'm off to shag a couple of robo-babes and see about destroying all of humanity."
The movie clocks in at a brisk 107 minutes. Emma needs the fast pace, as it is much more comic than other Jane Austen novels. This change in tone was a conscious effort on Austen's part; she said as she began work on the novel, "I am going to take a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like." Unlike most Austen heroines, Emma is financially secure, and so does not have the pressing need to find an advantageous match as, say, the Bennett sisters, allowing Emma to table the question of her own marriage as she goes about attempting to arrange others.
The performances are good, but nothing more. Kate Beckinsale has little trouble projecting a well-meaning, yet rash, headstrong young girl, but struggles somewhat with the more intimate scenes. Mark Strong anchors the movie as Knightley, the one person who respects people for what they are. The thing about Knightley is that he in no way fits the traditional image of "leading man"; he's not particularly handsome, and through most of the movie, he is just a family friend. It isn't until the very end that he emerges in a new light, and that's a critical part of Emma's character development, because Emma has to move beyond to making snap judgments based on appearances. Only then can she appreciate Knightley's full worth.
The movie takes pains to distance itself from the earlier production of Pride and Prejudice. Gone are the well-lit sitting rooms and sprawling ballrooms. Instead, there is greater emphasis on natural lighting, with most night scenes lit by candlelight. Another key difference is the presence (omnipresence, really) of the serving class. Their presence not only allows for some comic moments, but also allows us (and Emma) to see, through Knightley's compassionate interactions with those who work his estate, what a truly decent man he is.
The video is something of a disappointment. Colors are a touch oversaturated, and images are consistently soft (largely due to the low lighting conditions). The result is a transfer more appropriate to a movie twenty or thirty years old.
The year this movie was first broadcast also saw a theatrical version of Emma starring Gwyneth Paltrow. I'd give the edge to Beckinsale, mainly on the strength of her unassuming performance.
Real Men's Guide: When all else fails, just imagine Kate Beckinsale in her leather outfit from Underworld. That ought to perk you right up.
Did we really need another version of Jane Eyre? Charlotte Brontë's novel has been filmed no less than nineteen times—and that doesn't even count movies inspired by the novel, such as Val Lewton's I Walked With a Zombie. Surely one of those adaptations got it right. At least, I certainly hope so, because this one pretty much screws the pooch. The writers were brutal in their unholy quest to achieve a running time under two hours. Almost every subplot is gone—even Jane's childhood, which encompasses six or seven chapters in the novel, is glossed over in just a few minutes. As a result, the complexities of Jane's character fall by the wayside, and she becomes just another romantic heroine.
Samantha Morton (Emma) does a wonderful job as Jane (with what's left of her, at least), and is easily the strength of the production; unfortunately, the same can't be said for Ciaran Hinds as Rochester. His emoter has been cranked up to eleven; as a result, he's in turn too angry, too frustrated, and too emotional, with jarring transitions from one state to the next. It makes it very difficult to see what in him Jane finds so appealing. Rochester is usually considered a type of Byronic hero—moody, magnetic, and mysterious—but Hinds performance manages to downplay all of the romantic qualities of the type, resulting in a character who appears more dyspeptic than tortured. There's a certain amount of chemistry between the two, but this story demands not sparks between the leads, but raging bonfires, and that just doesn't happen.
If you are familiar with the novel and can fill in the plot gaps from memory, this is a somewhat passable adaptation, simply on the strength of Morton's performance. Those coming in blind—so to speak—probably won't care for it too much.
Real Men's Guide: At some point you may be asked what you would do in Rochester's situation. It's a trap: There. Is. No. Right. Answer. Your best bet is to fake a cerebral hemorrhage.
It was an anxious time: Charles had no legitimate children; his heir, his brother James, was openly Catholic. The country feared letting another Catholic on the throne, concerned that a Catholic monarch would try to restore Catholicism as the state church, much as Mary I had attempted. Many called for James to be excluded in favor of the Duke of Monmouth, the eldest of Charles' illegitimate sons, who was staunchly Protestant. No one managed to change the succession, and James assumed the throne as James II after Charles' death in 1685. That same year, Monmouth led a rebellion against James, but he was defeated and executed. The climactic chapters of Lorna Doone take place during that rebellion.
Our story begins a decade earlier, in 1675. A quiet village is attacked by the Doones, a once noble family that now lives as bandits in the dense Doone forest, pillaging nearby towns at will. Young John Ridd sees his father murdered by a member of the Doone clan during one such raid, and vows revenge. Several days later, John is fishing in the river when he loses his balance. The swift current carries him over a waterfall and deep into the forest. There he meets young Lorna, who shows him a secret path out of the forest.
Ten years later, the adult John (Richard Coyle) has taken his father's place as a respectable farmer, but he can't get the image of that young girl out of his head. He returns through the secret path and happens across the now-adult Lorna (Amelia Warner). It's love at first (okay, second) sight for both, but it is a doomed love: Not only is she a member of the Doone clan, but her grandfather is the lord of the Doones. She is destined to marry the ruthless Carver Doone (Aiden Gillen)—who (although John doesn't know it) happens to be the man who killed John's father.
Struggling to reconcile his love of Lorna with his hatred of the Doones, spirits Lorna away from the Doone forest, where his family must reconcile their hatred of the Doones when faced with the kind-hearted Lorna. And then a new complication rears its head: Lorna's necklace is identified as a family heirloom, and identifies her as the sole heir to Lady Dhugal, making Lorna heiress to one of the largest fortunes in England. She reluctantly goes to London to become a ward of the king; marriage to a commoner such as John becomes out of the question.
Remember King Charles? Well, he dies, James takes over, and Monmouth leads his insurrection. The Doones throw their lot in with Monmouth with the understanding that he will restore their name. John finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and gets arrested for treason. A family friend vouches for him, but John finds himself faced with a trial by combat: He is to lead a force against the Doone stronghold; if he succeeds (and survives), not only will the treason charge be dismissed, but he will get a knighthood—thus making him eligible to marry Lorna.
Is this a setup for a good time or what? Although much of the plot has become borderline cliché, it works for the most part, thanks to strong acting and direction. Richard Coyle and Amelia Warner hit all the right notes in the first half of the movie, and they get you invested in the proceedings. They have some problems later on due to some stale dialogue, but they do their best.
Video is excellent, the colors sharp and vibrant; some of the landscapes are so green that I can't help but wonder if they were digitally processed, but a friend has assured me that fields in Scotland are indeed that green.
The only real weakness (if you want to call it that) rests with the villains
of the piece. Aiden Gillen and Anton Lesser (as Carver's father) do well with
what they've been given, but they are so unrelentingly evil that you have to
shake your head. They remind me of a line from Buffy the Vampire Slayer:
"I like my evil like I like my men: evil. You know, straight up, black hat,
tied to the train tracks, 'Soon my electro-ray will destroy Metropolis'
bad." That's what we're talking here. Carver is even dressed in black from
head to toe.
But still, it's a fun, well-paced movie, so no real complaints from me.
Real Men's Guide: Please, no jokes about Lorna's delicious shortbread cookies. Show some class.
The Scarlet Pimpernel
It's 1792. The French Revolution has given way to the Reign of Terror. Anyone, particularly those of noble blood, can be snatched up by the Committee for Public Safety (think Homeland Security with wigs) and thrown into La Force prison, there to await the inevitable trial and execution. But there is a savior of sorts roaming the French countryside. A secret society known as the League of The Scarlet Pimpernel, led by the Scarlet Pimpernel, has confounded the government of Robespierre by spiriting innocent prisoners right out from under the noses of the French authorities.
In London, Sir Percival Blakeney (Richard E. Grant), a foppish member of
English aristocracy, has a strained relationship with his French wife Marguerite
(Elizabeth McGovern, Ragtime), having learned
shortly after their marriage that she had denounced the Marquis de St. Cyr to
the Revolutionary government. As a result, the noble and his entire family were
executed. Marguerite longs for reconciliation, but Sir Percy will have none of
That night, Marguerite begs her husband for help. She finally explains why she denounced St. Cyr: When she was 12, after her father had affronted the noble, St. Cyr had her parents hanged. She and her brother were forced to watch. Years later, Chauvelin, with whom she was having an affair, convinced her to avenge her parents by denouncing the noble; at that early stage in the Revolution, she had no idea she was condemning an entire family to death. Sir Percy remains aloof, however, and insists that he is powerless to help Armand.
The following morning, Marguerite tries to get advice from her husband, but he has already left. Reluctantly, she gives Chauvelin the location of the house in which the Pimpernel used to hide her friend. Later, sitting at her husband's desk, trying to wonder what has become of her life, she notices a small, gilded flower—a pimpernel, in fact—inlaid on the front of the desk. When she presses it, a secret drawer springs open, full of maps, plans, and timetables. Stunned, she realizes her husband Sir Percy is The Scarlet Pimpernel, and is probably headed to Paris to try and rescue her brother—right into the trap being set by Chauvelin. A frantic Marguerite rushes to France to warn her husband before it is too late, setting the stage for a chaotic climax and a touching reconciliation between Sir Percy and his lovely wife.
The Scarlet Pimpernel, the invention of Baroness Emmuska Orczy (a British writer of Hungarian origin), first appeared in a 1903 play, which was such a success that Orczy rewrote it as a novel. Ten more novels followed, along with several collections of short stories. This set includes all three episodes than made up the 1999 miniseries (a second three-episode series was broadcast the following year, but is not yet available on DVD):
• "The Scarlet Pimpernel" (The above summary is for
As with Jane Eyre, the quest for a short runtime seriously undermines the proceedings. The characters are reduced to types, the plot reduced to a series of barely connected episodes. The writers made a number of significant changes to the books, and the series was a critical and commercial disappointment. We never learn what motivates Blakeney, or how he determines whom he will save. For all we know, he's just doing it to annoy the French. We do get Lady Blakeney's motivations, though they have changed substantially from the novel. In the book, St. Cyr had Marguerite's brother beaten for presuming to be worthy of his daughter; Marguerite denounced him in a fit of pique, not realizing that the entire family would be killed. She remains haunted by her actions. But in the movie, St. Cyr has Marguerite's parents hanged in front of her; even though she still indirectly caused the death of an entire family, it's difficult to judge her harshly (particularly since we see her parents' death in a flashback), allowing the barrier between husband and wife to be conveniently swept aside at the appropriate time.
The first movie manages to stay under control. The other two, on the other hand, are mishmashes of barely related plot elements that retain a sense of direction by only the slimmest of margins. The episodes are shot with a certain sense of style, but style with substance is of little use.
On the plus side, Richard E. Grant is always a delight to watch. His face can go from foppish to haughty to sly all in an instant. He's having a blast and it shows. Martin Shaw is in an odd position. In the first episode, he does a nice job as Blakeney's nemesis Chauvelin—determined, intelligent, ruthless, with a touch of arrogance. He's a worthy adversary. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of consistency in his characterization from movie to movie. Elizabeth McGovern, on the other hand, doesn't quite work as Marguerite. She has good chemistry with Grant, but her English accent is inconsistent, which is all the more notable since her character is French.
The Scarlet Pimpernel is probably the weakest entry in the collection. It tries to find a precarious balance between comedy, romance, and action/adventure, but never fully succeeds at any of them.
Real Men's Guide: We have another Battlestar Galactica sighting: Jamie Bamber (Apollo) has a small role in the first episode as Lord Tony Dewhurst, a member of the League (there's even a totally gratuitous shot of his naked butt), while James Callis (Baltar) makes his second appearance in the collection, this time as Henri, the leader of a group of rebels in the second episode. He has a fair amount of screen time, providing ample opportunity for Six-based references.
Squire Allworthy (Benjamin Whitrow, Pride and Prejudice) returns from a trip to find that an infant boy has been left in his bed. At length, a young girl named Jenny Jones admits to being the mother, but refuses to name the father. Allworthy has Jenny moved to another town, where her reputation will not follow her, and promises that he will raise the boy, whom he names Thomas.
The story, which follows Tom's development from a headstrong young boy to an
equally headstrong young man (Max Beesley), is a "romance" only in a
general sense. The story is really more of a picaresque—that is, an
episodic tale involving a roguish hero, who must overcome all manner of
obstacles in order to gain a happy ending. In Tom's case, one of the main
The description makes it seem like such a dreary affair. This is a rousing,
raucous, bawdy, farcical business, with betrayals, assignations, and revelations
around every corner, and Tom bouncing from bed to bed in his quest to reunite
with his one true love—leading to a moment of sheer terror when Tom
realizes that he may have inadvertently slept with his own mother. Once the
proceedings arrive in London, the plot hurtles forward at a breakneck pace, with
everyone playing their parts just a little over the top, but none as
hysterically as Brian Blessed (Hamlet)
as Sophia's father, Squire Weston. Blessed stomps through the film like a
particularly uncouth force of nature, flinging raspberries and foul imprecations
at anyone who gets in his way. A narrator, Henry Fielding himself (John
Sessions), works feverishly to keep the plot from spinning completely out of
control and to ensure that the rambunctious tale has some
Perhaps more than any other film in the collection, this movie comes across as hopelessly generic. We've seen all of this before, and we've seen it done better. Part of the problem is the extended appearance of Robin of Locksley, a.k.a. Robin Hood. While Robin is an integral part of Sir Walter Scott's novel (up to and including Robin's winning of the archery competition), his presence here also brings in the ghost of Errol Flynn, reminding us that this should be a fast-paced action movie, and not a dreary marathon of a film. For that, I could have watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and at least gotten to enjoy Alan Rickman's scenery chewing antics.
The plot meanders a bit too much for its own good (a problem it inherits from Scott's novel). There's an extended stretch in which the focus shifts from Ivanhoe to Robin and other characters, as Ivanhoe is recovering from injuries. But the main problem is that the direction is incredibly pedestrian. Shots are sloppily framed without any real composition to speak of, and the camerawork does little to inject and originality into the proceedings, which is critical in a movie such as this, which contains so many familiar plot elements. (See Lorna Doone for an example of how strong direction can transform a generic plot.)
The acting, on the other hand, is pretty good. Steven Waddington (Sleepy Hollow) does a decent, though somewhat bland, job as Ivanhoe, and Ciaran Hinds does a marvelous job as Brian de Bois-Guilbert, the conflicted, tormented villain. The great Christopher Lee (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers) has a supporting role as Lucas de Beaumanoir, Grand Master of the Knights Templar. The man has one of the great voices of cinema, and the movie is worth watching just to hear him intoning Latin and going off on inquisitorial tirades. Amazingly, this was his first BBC role since 1947. Victoria Smurfit does her best with a criminally underwritten part as Ivanhoe's true love, Lady Rowena, while Susan Lynch steals scene after scene as Rebecca, the Jewish healer who saves Ivanhoe's life, and with whom de Bois-Gilbert becomes dangerously obsessed.
Real Men's Guide: You're safe with this one: Sword fights, guzzling ale, and blood and guts.
The Rebuttal Witnesses
With the exception of Pride and Prejudice, the oldest movie in the collection, all of the movies are presented in full frame. Surely a few more could have been presented in a widescreen format (Lorna Doone and Ivanhoe in particular would have benefitted greatly from widescreen presentation). Also, with the exception of Pride and Prejudice there is nothing in the way of extras beyond author biographies and cast filmographies (a link to A&E.com just doesn't count anymore).
In addition, the lack of any kind of restoration is troublesome. It's kind of understandable from the BBC's perspective—they have made these films before, they will make them again (in fact, they made another version of Jane Eyre just a few years ago. But if A&E is marketing these films as classics, they should treat them as classics.
"And I only am escaped alone to tell thee."
That was an egregious assault on my masculine sensibilities. Fortunately, James Garner shows us what to do in times such as these: Go find the seediest, toughest bar in town, stride right up, and order a glass of milk.
Kidding aside, though, this is a good set. While none of the other films reach the same high standards as Pride and Prejudice, the only really bad entry is The Scarlet Pimpernel.
A&E is hereby found guilty of making an impressive collection of chick flicks available at a bargain-level price, thereby inflicting these movies on unsuspecting men everywhere. A&E is hereby sentenced to begin broadcasting The Sopranos unedited, so that men can get in touch with their sensitive side the way God intended—by seeing someone's brains splattered all over the cannoli. Badda bing!
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What's "fair"? Whether positive or negative, our reviews should be unbiased, informative, and critique the material on its own merits.
Scales of Justice, Pride and Prejudice
Perp Profile, Pride and Prejudice
Distinguishing Marks, Pride and Prejudice
• "The Making of Pride and Prejudice"
Scales of Justice, Emma
Perp Profile, Emma
Distinguishing Marks, Emma
• Brief Text Biography of Jane Austen
Scales of Justice, Ivanhoe
Perp Profile, Ivanhoe
Distinguishing Marks, Ivanhoe
• Sir Walter Scott Biography
Scales of Justice, Jane Eyre
Perp Profile, Jane Eyre
Distinguishing Marks, Jane Eyre
• Text Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Scales of Justice, Tom Jones
Perp Profile, Tom Jones
Distinguishing Marks, Tom Jones
• Biography of Henry Fielding
Scales of Justice, The Scarlet Pimpernel
Perp Profile, The Scarlet Pimpernel
Distinguishing Marks, The Scarlet Pimpernel
Scales of Justice, Lorna Doone
Perp Profile, Lorna Doone
Distinguishing Marks, Lorna Doone
• Cast Filmographies
Scales of Justice, Victoria And Albert
Perp Profile, Victoria And Albert
Distinguishing Marks, Victoria And Albert
• Cast Filmographies
• IMDb: Pride and Prejudice
Review content copyright © 2008 Jim Thomas; Site design and review layout copyright © 2013 Verdict Partners LLC. All rights reserved.