Rachel Leishman

Published Oct 13, 2026, 12:00 PM EDT

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**Jane Austen **has many iconic stories that have captivated audiences since their release. One is the beloved Sense and Sensibility. Now, fans are getting a new adaptation from director **Georgia Oakley **and written by Diana Reid. Starring Daisy Edgar-Jones, Esmé Creed-Miles, Caitríona Balfe, Frank Dillane, George MacKay, and Fiona Shaw, the film marks only the fourth major adaptation of the Austen novel. Comparatively, Austen’s novel ***Pride & Prejudice ***has over 15 adaptations with a new one on the way. So this take on *Sense and Sensibility *is a beautiful new adventure for fans of Austen’s work. To celebrate that, Collider has teamed up with Focus Features to bring you an exclusive sneak peek from the film!

Produced by **Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner, India Flint, **and Jo Wallett, Oakley’s take on the Austen classic does seem to be in the same vein as the **Joe Wright **adaptation of *Pride & Prejudice *from 2005. This version of *Sense and Sensibility *is described as follows: “From Focus Features and Working Title comes an irresistible new take on Jane Austen’s iconic Sense and Sensibility: a charming, witty, and deeply relatable story of love and sisterhood starring Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles.”

In our exclusive sneak peek, Marianne Dashwood (Creed-Miles) is talking to Colonel Brandon (Herbert Nordrum) at dinner and the two begin having a conversation about passions and how the Colonel doesn’t really seem to enjoy anything, or he makes excuses as to why nothing interests him. Marianne keeps pushing him but everything that she brings up, he makes an excuse for until she finally has enough of his idea that he is simply too busy (or important) to engage in things that distract the mind. So Marianne bluntly points out that she’d rather he be artificially passionate rather than “sincerely dull.”

Your answers have pointed to one Oscar Best Picture winner above all others. This is the film that was made for the way your mind works.

You are drawn to films that operate on multiple levels simultaneously — that begin in one genre and quietly, brilliantly migrate into another. Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite is a film about class, desire, and the architecture of inequality that manages to be darkly funny, deeply suspenseful, and genuinely shocking across a single extraordinary running time. Your instinct is for cinema that hides its true intentions until the moment it’s ready to reveal them. Parasite is exactly that — a film that rewards close attention and punishes assumptions, right up to its devastating final image.

You want it all — and this film gives you all of it. The Daniels’ Everything Everywhere All at Once is one of the most maximalist films ever made: action comedy, multiverse sci-fi, family drama, existential crisis, and a genuinely earned emotional core that sneaks up on you amid the chaos. You are someone who responds to ambition, who doesn’t want cinema to choose between being entertaining and being meaningful. This film refuses that choice entirely. It is overwhelming by design, and its overwhelming nature is precisely the point — because the feeling of being crushed by infinite possibility is exactly what it’s about.

You are drawn to cinema on a grand scale — films that understand history not as a backdrop but as a force, and that place their characters inside that force and watch what happens. Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is a film about the terrifying gap between what we can do and what we should do, told with the full weight of one of the most consequential moments in human history behind it. You want your films to feel important without feeling self-important — to earn their ambition through sheer craft and the gravity of their subject. Oppenheimer does exactly that. It is enormous, complicated, and refuses easy comfort.

You are drawn to films that foreground their own construction — that make the how of the filmmaking part of the what it’s about. Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Birdman, shot to appear as a single continuous take, is cinema examining itself through the cracked mirror of a fading actor’s ego. You respond to formal daring, to the feeling that a film is doing something that probably shouldn’t be possible. Michael Keaton’s performance and Emmanuel Lubezki’s restless camera create something genuinely unlike anything else — a film that is simultaneously about creativity, relevance, self-destruction, and the impossibility of ever truly knowing if your work means anything at all.

You are drawn to cinema that trusts silence, that refuses to explain itself, and that treats dread as a form of meaning. The Coen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men is a film about the arrival of a new kind of evil — implacable, arbitrary, and utterly indifferent to the moral frameworks we use to make sense of the world. It is one of the most formally controlled films ever made, and its controlled restraint is what makes it so terrifying. You want your films to haunt you, not comfort you. You are not interested in resolution if resolution would be dishonest. No Country for Old Men is honest in a way that most cinema never dares to be.

There has always been a comfort to Austen’s work. It is part of the reason why so many fans have loved the 2005 *Pride & Prejudice *starring **Keira Knightley **and Matthew Macfadyen. With Sense and Sensibility, there is a love for the **Emma Thompson **and **Kate Winslet **film, but it doesn’t take away from the excitement that fans have to see what is to come of Edgar-Jones and Creed-Miles takes on Elinor and Marianne. Just make sure you have a passion locked and loaded if you’re sitting next to Marianne.

*Sense and Sensibility *hits theaters on October 16th. Stay tuned at Collider for more.

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Caitriona Balfe