A joyless and dreary exercise in ventriloquism. And poorly done to boot. The characters have been so drained of vivacity and wit, they bear absolutely no resemblance to Austen's. They're like Lizzy and Darcy zombies that P.D. James has reanimated through some unholy necromancy, except they don't hunger for human flesh. That's a shame because it would add some excitement to the flaccid story. There's certainly been a death at Pemberley, and I don't mean the one that's solved at the end.