I do have a confession before I begin: Jeremy Northam is really, truly the only Mr. Knightly in my mind. It is hard for me to imagine Mr. Knightly any other way, no matter how good the actor is.

Given that, I was more than willing to try out the new Emma — love of all things Austen trumped love of Mr. Knightly — and see how they treated one of Austen’s funniest books.

And…

Sigh.

I really wanted to like this. Yes, even given my above confession, the 1996 movie version with Gwyneth Paltrow drives me a bit bonkers. I’d love a new movie version of Emma I could love and adore and laugh at. However, this wasn’t it. I did like Romola Garai as Emma; I felt she managed to capture a bit of Emma’s silliness and immaturity without being utterly annoying. Mr. Knightly, well, wasn’t Jeremy Northam, which really is no fault of his own. But, beyond that, he was much too earnest for my taste. In fact, I think that’s my biggest complaint with the whole movie: aside from adding things in which really didn’t need to be there (four hours? Really? There’s not that much in the book!) — back stories and extra scenes that I know weren’t in the book! — it just took itself way too seriously.

I know: I adore the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice, which also takes itself more seriously than the book warrants. But, Emma is a comedy, more so than any of Austen’s other books. We’re supposed to laugh at Emma’s folly. We’re supposed to laugh at the silliness, the vanity, the insecurity, the puffed up characters. We’re supposed to dislike Mrs. Elton because she’s annoying and vain, not because she’s mean. We’re supposed to laugh at Miss Bates because she’s a ditz not roll our eyes at her because her mannerisms grate on us. Something is wrong when the funniest character is one — John Knightly — that’s barely in the book at all.

We’re not really supposed to swoon. It’s not a swooning book. It’s not a swooning story. Sure, Emma and Mr. Knightly end up together, but it’s a love born of many, many years, of a deep and lasting friendship. Which is really not swoon material. (Don’t get me wrong: I’d rather a marriage like that than a swooning one, but that’s not the point.) It’s a frivolity, a romp, a mirror for us to hold up to ourselves and say, yes, we’re Emma. Thank heavens there’s Knightly out there to love us anyway.

Verdict: The book’s best. But even though Gwyneth’s highly annoying, I think that version is a better adaption.