Wide Sargasso Sea: A Dreary Rendition of Rhys’s “Madwoman in the Attic”

Wide Sargasso Sea in Adaptation

Vishmi Dharmasiri
6 min readAug 20, 2022

Movie : Wide Sargasso Sea

Directed by : Brendan Maher

Production Studio : Kudos Film and Television

Year : 2006

Wide Sargasso Sea movie, 2006

Wide Sargasso Sea is the story Jane Eyre forgets to tell. In other words, it is Jean Rhys’s prequel to Brontë’s Jane Eyre, written more than a century after Jane Eyre was first published. In her reimagined novel, Rhys gives life to Bertha (the “madwoman in the attic”) of Edward Rochester’s Thornfield Hall by presenting to the reader her backstory as a Creole woman whose racial, class and gendered identity and role set against the backdrop of the intricate sociocultural situation in the Caribbean lead to her eventual fate. When I first heard of the film adaptation of Rhys’s complex postcolonial novel which in its written form, explores multiple complex themes such as decolonization, subaltern voice, cultural assimilation and womanhood; I was skeptical of how a director could encapsulate them all in a single movie. It follows Antoinette (later renamed as Bertha) and Rochester’s marital relationship and the events that follow in their honeymoon house in Granbois. As a result of the artistic choices made in adaptation, the movie occasionally excludes (e.g. Annete’s narrative), adds (e.g. Sex scenes) and alters (e.g. Daniel’s encounter with Rochester). Additionally, ‘Part One’ of the novel is absent in Maher’s movie adaptation, yet the filmmaker maintains the intertextuality between the source text and the film by bringing out Antoinette’s Creole identity, family history and past experiences through diegetic sounds such as the conversations Rochester has with Christophine, Amelie, Daniel and Antoinette herself.

In spite of the fact that the novel’s tripartite structure and shifting narrative perspectives are excluded from the adaptation, the filmmaker also adapts the technique of flashback to explain to the audience the events that transpired previously. The movie opens with a tilt shot of Rochester’s Thornfield Hall, engulfed in darkness but not quite — with low key blue lighting. From the outset, the suspense begins to build as the director sets the mise-en-scene — with bottom and side lighting menacingly illuminating Antoinette Cosway’s (Rebecca Hall) face, and non-diegetic eerie music playing suspensefully as her character gains momentum and turns into something mysteriously sinister. As a viewer, I was intrigued by the torrent of detail the first five minutes of the movie had to deliver, in the span of which a dark and gloomy house, fire, paintings, a seemingly deranged woman and her jagged flashbacks to sexual activities with a mystery man now sleeping on a chair are shown to the audience. As opposed to John Duigan’s 1993 adaptation which stays true to the novel’s chronological order of events and is first set in Coulibri, Jamaica –, Maher’s version adopts the common adaptation technique of changing the sequential order of the source text by setting the opening scene in England. Maher’s approach seems to be more effective in terms of creating suspense and captivating the interest of the viewer.

The ‘Female’ Gaze in the Film

Wide Sargasso Sea is in fact movie that grips you from the start, yet what personally stood out as remarkable was the way in which the film delivered itself as a feminist piece. Despite the ultimate fate of the protagonist and the authority of her husband, her resistance is noticeable. In my opinion, the women in Maher’s Wide Sargasso Sea are not merely to be gazed at, but also to be gazed by. In the cinematography of the film, close-up shots of female faces are abundant, where they confront Rochester as well as the audience with deep and penetrating gazes. Christophine’s gaze in particular, is a menacing presence, especially in the scenes where she comes face to face with Rochester. The filmmaker has paid close attention to details when setting the mise-en-scene for Christophine’s confrontations with her English master. She pans suddenly and unexpectedly into view in a shallow field and gazes directly and boldly at the camera, while eerie music or sounds of the forest are heard in the background. Even Amelie, who seems passive and shy — gazes daringly and without fear at her white master. Antoinette on the other hand, is a foreign and threatening presence in Rochester’s life, constantly demanding to be heard and understood. Therefore, the female narrative agency is inescapably pervasive throughout the film.

Outstanding Performances by the Cast

Rebecca Hall’s performance as Antoinette is admirable. Her acting is passionate, fervent and a tad overdone, which somehow enhances the intensity of her role further. Although Rafe Spall as Rochester is convincing enough, some viewers would find his acting almost bland next to that of Hall. Nevertheless, the emotionless, confused stare and unsmiling eyes depict the true nature of his experience at Grandbois. His internalized cultural myopia, which is described explicitly in the novel, is expressed in the film through the loveless stare he gives Antoinette from the very beginning, and the visible discomfort he displays in the foreign Caribbean land.

Played by Nina Sosanya and Lorraine Burroughs respectively, the two African servant women are directly involved as third parties in the relationship of the newly wed. As discussed previously, gaze seems to be the most powerful tool used by Maher in the characterization of Christophine and Amelie. The majority of Antoinette and Rochester’s romantic and intimate scenes end with the camera panning to the side to reveal either Christophine or Amelie — staring, bringing food, or standing by the door. The viewers are constantly aware of their looming presence. Their ability to have an impact on the marriage of their masters embody the resistance and resilience of a race taken advantage of and oppressed since long. Maher seems to have characterized them in a way that added an element of horror to the film, and you as a spectator would soon find yourself dreading their entrance.

What is bad?

Irrespective of being a well-written and well-acted adaptation of Wide Sargasso Sea, Maher’s movie seems to be lacklustre in terms of production. The yellowy colour tone works well as a symbol for the mysterious, sickening and sinister mood of the story, but I believe that using a more vibrant and youthful colour tone alongside yellow could have been more effective in highlighting the contrast between the initial stages and final stages of Rochester and Antoinette’s relationship. Personally, I found the consistent yellow filter of the movie to be monotonous and drab. Besides, some of the intimate scenes could easily have been edited out and replaced with more plot-driven scenes, but the repetitive sex might have been a deliberate artistic choice of the filmmaker, as a means of fulfilling the genre specific conventions. As IMDB lists Wide Sargasso Sea under ‘romance/drama; it is only reasonable to do so. Interestingly, Duigan’s 1993 adaptation claims ‘erotica’ to be one of its genres, thus resulting in more sex scenes than in Maher’s 2006 version.

Is it worth a Watch?

I found Maher’s version of Wide Sargasso Sea to be suspenseful and captivating right from the beginning. Regardless of certain exclusions and alterations, the film does not depart from the original plot of Rhys’s novel. The way Maher’s film engages with and employs female characters and their gaze in the narrative could be read in a feminist point of view, given that they are capable of unsettling, manipulating (at least briefly), and angering the male protagonist. The loud, active and bold women in Maher’s filmic narrative impose a clear threat to the patriarchal hegemony of Rochester, thus end up being forcefully suppressed and silenced by him.

In this review, I discussed the cinematic techniques utilized by the filmmaker and the methods of acting used by the cast to foreground the female narrative agency in the film. Despite that the dull yellowy colour tone and multiple sex scenes make the film bland at times, Maher’s adaptation of Rhys’s novel is remarkably well done, and is definitely worth a watch.

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