Beware, this one was originally 113 comments long, but for your sake, I took out some of the quotes from the movie. I kept in the best ones, but I felt I should save you from reading the script, which is pretty much what I did to my friend since I was a little starved for company when living abroad in a country that wasn’t a fan of the English language.
But it’s okay, she loved it. As always.
Me: So I was going to watch Princess Bride – I put the movie in and everything but I realized I just wasn’t in the mood for a goofy love story. I wanted the real thing. P&P is the real thing. Also, I’m almost done Jane Eyre so I’m a little in the mood for men in 19th century cravats and waistcoats and men on horses and women with subtle attitude. Prepare for your wall to be littered.
Me: Birds tweeting – once again I’m not entirely sure how much of it is outside my window and how much of it is in the movie. Also, they’re tweeting as per the noise they make, not the social networking site they use.
Me: “Netherfield Park has let at last – will you not know who has taken it?”
Me: Carey Mulligan is so cute!
Me: “Who’s got warts?”
Male friend: I hear those crazy sparrows are still using Geocities. #hipsterbirds #itscoolbecauseitsoutdated
Me: Oh, you poor unfortunate soul. You’re going to be getting red notification tags about me commenting for the next hour and a half. This is what I do when I watch P&P. I quote the entire movie.
Me: GASP! Darcy has arrived.
Male friend: What have I done?!
Male friend: Oh wait … “Unfollow Post”
Me: “Which of the painted peacocks is our Mr. Bingley? … And the person with the quizzical brow?”
Me: “Yes, fills me with guilt. I’m not a very good reader. I prefer being out of doors. Oh I mean I can read, of course, and I’m not suggesting you can’t read out of doors, of course.”
Me: *glance at Darcy*
Me: “Do you dance, Mr Darcy?” “Not if I can help it.”
Me: “Her sister Elizabeth is very agreeable.” “Perfectly tolerable, I daresay, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”
Me: “Count your blessings, Lizzy. If he liked you, you’d have to talk to him.”
Me: “Precisely, as it were, I would not dance with him for half of Derbyshire let alone the miserable half.”
Me: *dancing, laughter, Darcy sulking through the crowd with a perma-frown*
Me: “And that put pain to it. I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love … But if it is only a vague inclination I’m convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.”
Me: “So what do you recommend to encourage affection?”
Me: “Dancing, even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”
Me: OOOOH SNAP!
Me: “I give you leave to like him, you’ve liked much a stupider person.”
Me: “No matter, I doubt we shall ever speak again.” Oh, Lizzy. How wrong you are! That man is going to stalk you in the most gentleman-like way possible.
Me: “A letter addressed to Miss Bennet, ma’am, from Netherfield Hall.” “Praise the lord, we’re saved.”
Me: I always want to spell Bennet with two Ts.
Me: You know … TTBennet.
Me: “Certainly not. She’ll go on horseback.” “HORSEBACK?!”
Me: “Apparently Lady Bathurst is redecorating her ballroom in the French style. A little unpatriotic, don’t you think?” *silence from Darcy*
Me: I’ve decided we should wear these kinds of dresses more often – upside: no shaving. Additional upside: we may travel back in time and you can travel to find an elfish Darcy and I’ll get a regular one.
Me: “My goodness, did you see her hem? Six inches deep in mud. She looked positively medieval.”
Me: Bingley’s sick room looks like the greatest sick room in the world. I’d like to stay in a hotel like that.
Me: Remember the giant pig walking through the Bennets’ kitchen and then Mrs. Bennet checks out the pig’s balls? #Awkward
Me: “Are you so severe on your own sex?” “I never saw such a woman, she’d certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.” *Charles laughs goofily and obliviously*
Me: I like how Darcy adjusts his paperwork before delivering his punchline. He’s such an awkward fellow.
Me: “What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.” “A family trait, I presume.” *Caroline walks away so proud of herself thinking she’s such a clever b …*
Me: “A Mrs. Bennet, a Miss Bennet, a Miss Bennet and a Miss Bennet, sir.”
Me: “Sir William Lucas is a very agreeable man. And a good deal less self-important than some people half his rank.”
Me: “I think a ball is a perfectly irrational way to make a new acquaintance. It would be better if conversation rather than dancing were the order of the day.”
Me: Oh! Oh! He’s about to hold her hand as she gets in the carriage!
Me: THERE IT IS.
Me: “He’s the dreaded cousin.” What if that meant Mr. Collins had dreadlocks? *fits of laughter*
Me: Yeuagh. I hate how he eats. Seriously, Collins. Be creepier!
Me: “My small rectory abuts her estate, Rosings Park.” So many different readings of that line. Okay. Two. Two readings of that line.
Me: Appropriate and inappropriate.
Me: If someone said, “After dinner I’d like to read to you all for an hour or two,” would you get up and leave or punch them in the face 15 minutes in?
Me: “Jane’s too pretty for you and we have her locked on a rich man, but what about Lizzy? No one else will take her and I’d like her troublesome attitude out of my house.”
Me: Such a shame Wickham is a douchebag. Also a shame because the actor plays Prince Albert in Young Victoria and he’s wonderful.
Me: I also like how Darcy is on a dark horse in dark colours while Bingley is on a white horse in a light grey suit. Someone’s supposed to be brooding … and I don’t think it’s the ginger one.
Me: Ladies are being helped out of carriages to avoid the giant horse plops. Speaking of horse plops, in a bake sale in elementary school, our first grade teacher made chocolate macaroons and called them horse plops. I’ll never forget that.
Me: I wonder why the officers had to have long hair.
Me: And the wonderful stalking begins!
Me: As Darcy follows Lizzy around Netherfield Hall.
Me: I never noticed but Mr. Bennet is right behind Collins and Lizzy when Collins asks Lizzy to dance and commends his own “lightness of foot” – Mr. Bennet even takes a step closer to presumably watch over his favourite daughter.
Me: “Did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy? … It will be most inconvenient since I’ve sworn to loathe him for all eternity.”
Me: This is definitely the most I’ve ever quoted of a movie [and remember dear readers, I’ve edited this down]. I’ll take a break.
Me: “It is at the urging of my esteemed patroness Lady Catherine that I select a wife because she’s afraid the congregation will begin to question my sexuality.”
Me: “My wife encourages me to spend as much time in the garden as I can for the sake of her health – all kinds of health. I quite bother her and grate on her nerves to the point of them cracking, much like your own mother’s, cousin Lizzy.”
Me: “Lady Catherine has never been averse to the truly humble. You’re poor as [shite].”
Me: The way Collins is standing in front of Lady Catherine, it looks like he’s holding in a shart.
Me: “Mr. Collins! You can’t sit next to your wife – who knows where your hands will end up by the time we get to dessert!”
Me: “Prepare yourself for something very dreadful – girls were stranded, stranded, without partners and he was all, ‘I’m too good for that!'”
Me: “I do not have the talent of conversing easily with people I have never met before … Even though I’d love to converse with you. And by ‘converse’ I do mean chat. And by ‘chat’ I do mean …”
Me: “What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Darcy?”
Me: “Which are only to be obtained through intercourse …” *THUNDER* “… forgive me, through the intercourse …”
Me: Ooooh boy. Here comes the rain. And by “rain” I mean the best scene of the WHOLE MOVIE.
Me: Fingers poised for typing …
Me: “Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you – I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank and circumstance. All these things and I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony …”
“I don’t understand …”
“I love you. Most ardently.”
Me: “Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me it was unconsciously done.”
Me: “Is this your reply … are you laughing at me? Are you rejecting me?”
Me: Thunder is very appropriately timed in this movie.
Me: “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?”
“And those are the words of a gentleman? From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!”
Me: Super awkward when Lizzy and Darcy realize they’re flirting in front of her aunt and uncle and his sister.
Me: I love when Mrs. Bennet turns all the way around when Bingley barges in. Silly Bennet mum.
Me: That tree outside their house is so big. I wonder how many people it would take to hug it.
Me: Wait for the longest scene of walking ever. Walking … walking … he’s still walking … oh! No, he’s still walking … He moves his right arm more than his left.
Me: Aaaaand Papa Bennet’s St. Bernard head.
Me: I wonder how many takes it took to slow down that last Mrs Darcy kiss. “Nope! Too fast, another take. Nope! Still too fast. You have to slow it down. Let’s keep this going. Don’t worry, everyone. It can stay dark forever. Come on, Keira! Get it together!”
Me: I am still in awe of how large Donald Sutherland’s cranium is.
Friend: Dude. All I see is “View all 100 comments.” There are so many it didn’t even bother showing one as a preview. Alright time to start reading this novel.
Friend: First of all … Poor [male friend] not realising he had stumbled onto the minefield of P&P comments.
Friend: Secondly, I’m down for the dressed but you cannot convince me to stop shaving. That’s just nasty. But elf ears … that’s too sexy for words.
Friend: Thirdly, can we just forget about the pig #nasty? Never bring him up again.
Friend: Fourthly, what exactly would the “estate” be in your double entendre?
Friend: Fifthly, if someone said they were going to read to me for an hour or two I’d be thrilled. Better than them droning on in their uncouth vernacular.
Friend: Sixthly, best segue: “speaking of horse plops.”
Friend: Seventhly, thanks for adding commentary to the quotes. I never caught Collins questioning his sexuality.
Friend: Eighthly, I snorted with laughter at “Aaaaand Papa Bennet’s St Bernard head.”
Her aunt chimes in: After reading all 109 comments, I’m wishing I had a VCR so I could watch the five hour BBC box-set version I have on VHS tapes. Sigh. Colin Firth = Mr. Darcy.
Friend: Bah, the recent one is better.
Me: Fourthly, I’m going to let “estate” be whatever the reader wants it to be in that double entendre – you can’t explain double entendres, that defeats the purpose of subtlety, doesn’t it?
Me: And agreed – the recent one is better, which is probably due to the fact that I watched it before the Colin Firth one, but I do prefer Colin Firth as the adapted Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones’s Diary.