Lilies that Fester: Autumn de Wilde and Anya Taylor-Joy Discuss Emma. and How Easy It Is to Slip into Cruelty

There are plenty of reasons to adapt a Jane Austen novel for the fourth, fifth, tenth, umpteenth time. Austen was a master, and people also never get bored watching well-heeled English folks in period finery nibble delicate pastries over tea while complaining about the weather and sniping about each other. In the case of Emma, arguably her greatest comedy, there’s a greater reason: Audiences need a warm-hearted lesson in manners and how to talk to other human beings. We all have Twitter and Facebook at our fingertips, which means we have the freedom to spurn and mock strangers living hundreds of thousands of miles away should the spirit move us. Emma’s characters lack the luxuries of distance and anonymity. When they say nasty things, they say them to other people’s faces, and they get to see those faces as they turn crestfallen. It’s a surprisingly exhilarating experience considering that the film is based around understated sexual desire, baked goods, lovely costumes, and equally as lovely British actors.
Paste caught up with de Wilde and Taylor-Joy to talk about this quiet theme of social propriety.
Paste Magazine: I went into [this movie] thinking, ‘What does Emma mean in 2020, what does it mean in the last decade, what does it mean in this decade?’ You know what stuck with me? When Emma tells Miss Bates, “When have you ever stopped at three?” How nice would it be if we lived in a time where people said awful things to each other’s faces instead of through … their phones.
Autumn de Wilde: I very much agree.
Anya Taylor-Joy: Say awful things to each other’s faces, but then repent and understand and learn the lesson. Autumn and I talked a lot about the fact that within the film there are a lot of fantasies that are fulfilled, and in the book, as well. One of those fantasies is the fantasy of when somebody says something terrible, that they are humbled by it, and that even if they cannot bring themselves to verbally apologize, they take that slight and they grow from it and they basically become a better person. How wonderful it would be if every person that’s ever been mean to you could actually learn that lesson from feeling bad.
De Wilde: I think Jane Austin, as a female writer, she’s sort of diminished as just being a writer of great romance, which is a great feat in itself, to write romance that connects to us 200 years later. She pinpointed certain human relationships that have nothing to do with the time period, but she also was a great satirical wit. And she’s a writer of fantasies, a lot of different kinds of fantasies: friendship fantasies, like you were saying, and the father fantasy, the father that you want to care for, and relationship fantasies. Almost everyone has someone in their life that they wondered if they should have kissed when they were 16—their best friend or that person they argued with so much and realized they were in love with them. The question of “what does it mean now”—that’s something that you don’t ask about Shakespeare, or things that are such classic human stories that keep translating in every time period. That’s why I think it’s healthy for us to revisit them, to show that we’re still human, and we still have almost the same set of mistakes that we could make possibly.
Paste: That, that fantasy is a very real fantasy though. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the recent events involving Jason Lei Howden? I talk about Twitter with people a lot when I sit down to talk with them, because I feel like it’s one of the great toxins that we live with in our time. I wish we lived in this world where people could apologize and then learn and grow from those things. Was that at any point circling through your minds while you were filming this? Not just the fantasy, but how the fantasy connects in this very direct way to our culture of toxicity?
De Wilde: Well, bullying has never gone away. People have been bullied before there was Twitter, and I think you’re right—the faceless version of it is a coward’s game—but I was bullied in junior high. I’m 6’2”, and I looked like Olive Oyl, and I was bullied mercilessly. My brother is 7’2”, and he was bullied mercilessly. Almost everybody has had some type of bullying experience. So, I think that the people that can really, really hurt you are the ones that you expect more from.
That’s why Emma’s such a great character. She has bullying moments, and she sometimes bullies by accident. She sometimes bullies on purpose. She sometimes bullies because she thinks she’s doing right by someone. I think if we look at ourselves, we might think that we’re Harriet, but we all have moments where we’ve been Emma. I think that’s why she’s such an incredibly complicated, epic character, because we are so complicated, and the issue of bullying is very complicated. A lot of people on Twitter I think have probably caught themselves, when they think they’re defending someone, bullying another person and passing it along. We have to be careful what we do with the written word.
Taylor-Joy: Because it’s powerful.
De Wilde: It’s powerful, and it can be translated only by the people reading it. You don’t get a crack at intention with your words. You don’t see the heart behind what someone’s saying with words. It’d be nice to say everyone on Twitter is evil, but I think, unfortunately, that there’s probably a lot of really good people who say terrible things that I think if they said it to someone’s face, they would feel ashamed. But I don’t think the people that bullied me in junior high at the time felt ashamed when they said it to my face. It’s possible that they don’t remember bullying me at all, though. They probably remember all the times they got hurt. That’s what’s so fascinating about bullying in general.
Paste: I can think of moments online when I’ve toed that line myself. It’s surprisingly easy, as Emma finds. That moment I’m referring to, when it happened, you could hear all the air get sucked out of the room.
Taylor-Joy: What’s interesting about that is every screening that we’ve gone to, it has the same effect, which is wonderful as filmmakers because the moment works. But everyone takes an audible sharp intake of breath, and usually after they’ve found themselves laughing for a second longer than they should. I think what’s done very cleverly, by Jane Austin and by the way that we’ve shot the film, is that because you’ve been laughing with and at Emma, you haven’t really realized that you’ve become part of her brain at that point. So you’ve also been laughing at Ms. Bates. You’ve been understanding how Emma finds her cumbersome and in the way—Ms. Bates talks too much and she’s brash and all of these different things. Then when it comes to a moment where Emma’s actually cruel, there’s no other way to interpret it. It’s cruelty. Everyone suddenly checks themselves because they realize that they’ve been laughing at this woman, too, and they understand that they’ve been sucked into this mob mentality of laughing at somebody who really doesn’t deserve to be laughed at. Well, nobody deserves to be laughed at unless it’s in good fun.
De Wilde: That Lord of the Flies thing has very extreme situations, but it also can happen really subtly: The young person laughing of the older person, too, or the taller person or the wider person. I think that Miranda Hart is so brilliant in the role, and the way that all of the actors handled that scene … I told them that I wanted this party to be doomed from the beginning. I feel like we’ve all been parties like that, where you’re just like, “Oh, god.” You walk in, and…
Taylor-Joy: “This should be fun … and yet.”