This modern love story has lost Austen's 18th Century charms: BRIAN VINER reviews Sense and Sensibility

Sense And Sensibility, Jane Austen's first completed novel, was published 215 years ago this autumn. 

That seems like an anniversary worth celebrating, but does the latest screen version, starring Normal People's Daisy Edgar-Jones as Elinor Dashwood, one of Austen's most admirable heroines, do it justice? Not in my book.

Georgia Oakley's film is gorgeous on the eye and blessed with some fine performances. 

However, in trying to present to a modern audience the story of the genteelly impoverished Dashwood sisters, the director, and screenwriter Diana Reid, sap it of too much of that ineffable nuance on which Austen's narratives depend.

Ang Lee's 1995 adaptation did a much better job in that respect, even if Hugh Grant somewhat overdid it as Edward Ferrers, who captivates temperate Elinor (Emma Thompson) despite being as assertive as a bowl of jelly.

Of course, it's not easy in this smartphone era to tell a love story characterised by restraint and civility. 

Does the latest version of Sense and Sensibility, starring Daisy Edgar-Jones as Elinor Dashwood, one of Austen's most admirable heroines, do the novel justice? Not in my book.

It was actually a good deal easier 30 years ago, before the age of emojis, and Thompson made the most of that in her Oscar-winning screenplay.

Here, the burgeoning feelings that Elinor has for Edward (the excellent George MacKay) are too telegraphed, too tactile, disastrously undermining their later misunderstandings. 

They should be almost invisible compared with the passion her impulsive sister Marianne (Esme Creed-Miles) shows for the caddish John Willoughby (Frank Dillane).

I can understand why the producers at Working Title thought the time was ripe for a new version but when 21st-century ways creep in, this stirring story of 18th-century love becomes much harder to comprehend. 

Why on earth does Edward cleave to his long engagement with the silly Lucy Steele (Ceara Coveney)? These days, even if he was too honourable to break it off over WhatsApp, the engagement would surely not last.

This Sense And Sensibility is not without its strengths, but while we're mulling its frailties, I'm baffled by the choice of a Norwegian actor, Herbert Nordrum, to play Colonel Brandon. 

Kind but taciturn, Brandon, who waits in the wings while the dashing Willoughby is exposed as a rascal, is a quintessentially English hero. 

He looks and dresses the part, so why allow him a slight Scandinavian accent, no less incongruous than a denim jacket?

Georgia Oakley's film is gorgeous on the eye and blessed with some fine performances, but saps it of too much of that ineffable nuance on which Austen's narratives depend

On the upside, Edgar-Jones exudes exactly the right serenity as Elinor (representing 'sense'), and Creed-Miles is a splendidly tempestuous Marianne (denoting 'sensibility'). 

Also, Fiona Shaw makes hay with one of the classic scene-stealing roles as rich-but-vulgar Mrs Jennings, giving her a laugh like bad plumbing. 

Mind you, not even her Mrs Jennings can compete with that of the late, great Elizabeth Spriggs in the 1995 film.

The Ang Lee adaptation was superior in most departments, and the 2008 three-part TV version in some. 

We don't need to see the duel between Willoughby and Brandon, for example, as we do here. 

On the other hand, cinematographer Arnaud Potier has done a lovely job; many of the interior shots are as beautiful as Old Masters paintings.

There is scant chance of our obsession with Jane Austen abating any time soon, with Dolly Alderton's interpretation of Pride And Prejudice arriving on Netflix in December.

That will have to go some to eclipse the 1995 BBC version, which of course is half the problem. 

Austen adaptations are like tins of Quality Street; everyone has favourites, but they're still all worth trying.