Skip to the shelves

Three Women-Centered Adaptations Put Different Kinds of Romance on Screen

Date due card
Shelf Book Reviews
Date in
Readers354

The Love Hypothesis, Verity and Sense and Sensibility show the promise—and uneven results—of major adaptations centered on women’s stories.

Three Women-Centered Adaptations Put Different Kinds of Romance on Screen

Three recent adaptations of books by women arrived within two weeks, backed by more than $100 million in combined spending and substantial marketing. The Love Hypothesis, Verity and Sense and Sensibility differ sharply in their results, but their scale makes them worth considering together: each puts a woman-centered story at the center of a major film release. Their source books also come from strikingly different starting points. Ali Hazelwood’s novel began as fan fiction inspired by the Star Wars universe, Colleen Hoover’s Verity was self-published, and Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility has already inspired multiple adaptations.

That combination of attention and resources matters in a field where stories aimed at women have often been treated as less deserving of care. Romance, in particular, is frequently dismissed even as its books and films give audiences room to explore desire, intimacy and the choices people make for those they love. The biggest film budgets tend to go to comic-book and action stories marketed chiefly toward men. These adaptations suggest that a different kind of material can also attract major investment. Whether they point to a lasting change remains to be seen; their mixed fortunes make the case more interesting, not less.

The Love Hypothesis

Released by Amazon MGM Studios on Amazon Prime on September 23, 2026, The Love Hypothesis adapts Hazelwood’s romance about Olive Smith, a biology PhD student, and Adam Carlsen, a professor with a gruff manner. Lili Reinhart plays Olive, while Tom Bateman takes the role of Adam, who persuades her to enter a fake relationship with him. Rachel Marsh and Jaboukie play Olive’s friends. Director Claire Scanlon, whose 2018 film Set It Up established her rom-com credentials, gives the adaptation an easygoing pace.

Reinhart is a convincing Olive: awkward and offbeat, but also a cancer researcher capable of drawing Adam out of his shell. The central pairing is less persuasive. Reinhart and Bateman don’t quite sell the romance, and the film smooths away some of the roughness that gives their relationship in the book its appeal. Telling the story entirely through Olive’s perspective may help explain that choice, though it leaves Adam less fully realized. The removal of his best friend, Holden, also means there’s no counterweight to Adam’s caustic personality.

For a film tied to a hugely successful book and made with a large budget, a release directly on Amazon Prime rather than in theaters is a notable decision. The studio still gave the film a substantial marketing push, including Reinhart’s press appearances in outfits inspired by rom-coms from the 1990s and 2000s. That attention suggests Amazon sees an audience for the material. A theatrical release for a future romantic comedy would show whether the company is ready to give that audience a cinema run, too.

Verity

Verity, the latest Colleen Hoover adaptation, opened in theaters on October 2nd. Anne Hathaway plays Verity Crawford, an author who is paralyzed and unable to speak. Her husband, Jeremy, played by Josh Hartnett, hires Lowen Ashleigh, played by Dakota Johnson, to ghostwrite Verity’s next book. Lowen moves into the family home and sorts through the author’s notes. In the process, she finds a manuscript that appears to hold disturbing confessions.

The marketing frames the film as a psychosexual erotic thriller, but the finished story doesn’t deliver much eroticism or much suspense. The novel itself isn’t “high literature,” and that’s no obstacle: a pulpy story can work on its own terms. The trouble is that the film seems unsure of those terms. When Lowen says she doesn’t read books “you can buy at the airport,” the line marks her as someone who considers herself above popular fiction. It also risks sounding like the film’s own judgment of the kind of book it’s adapting, without giving the story the depth that might justify that pose.

The tension often falls flat, with much of the drama resting on Johnson’s performance. Hathaway works within a role that keeps her bed-ridden for much of the film, leaving her to communicate largely through a breathy voiceover and brief scenes at a computer. There’s real talent behind the adaptation, and the care given to the source is apparent. Yet the film’s ambition runs into the limits of its material. That’s a more revealing problem than any lack of effort: careful craft can’t always supply complexity the story doesn’t contain.

Sense and Sensibility

Georgia Oakley, director of Blue Jean, takes on a classic with her adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Daisy Edgar Jones, Esme Creed-Miles and Bodhi Rae Breathnach play the Dashwood sisters; Caitriona Balfe is their mother, Mrs. Dashwood. Frank Dillane, Herbert Nordrum and George MacKay play the central love interests, while Fiona Shaw brings together the supporting cast as Mrs. Jennings. The casting is consistently strong, and the performances give these familiar characters new warmth.

The story follows the Dashwood women as they adjust to life after the loss of their patriarch, seeking marriages and places to live that will preserve their standard of living. Oakley’s version stays close to the book. It doesn’t make a strong case for what a new adaptation can add, but it’s engaging and assured. The filmmakers appear to have studied what made earlier adaptations work, with the 2005 Pride and Prejudice among the reference points for this contemporary take.

Diana Reid’s script preserves Austen’s mix of playful wit and romantic feeling. Arnaud Potier’s photography, with its soft natural light, complements a traditional but carefully judged score. The result lands emotionally: the film moves between romantic and familial love, and gives weight to the sacrifices each can ask of us. By the end, it’s a charming, heartfelt adaptation that made me giggle, blush and tear up.

The three films don’t make an equally strong case for their source material, and none settles the question of how much support women-centered stories will receive next. But their scale, their distinct origins and their different approaches are a useful sign of what audiences might see when these books get serious attention. Oakley’s Austen adaptation is the most satisfying of the three; the larger takeaway is that these stories deserve room to succeed on their own terms.

The post The State of Women-Centered Literary Adaptations appeared first on Chicago Review of Books.

===
Source: Ashley Hatzenbihler · chireviewofbooks.com

Readers also borrowed