Being my favourite book, I've seen a heck of a lot of adaptations of Jane Eyre. From Orson Welles' suitably Gothic, ultra-condensed version, to the rather forgettable Zeffirelli version of 1996, my favourite so far has been the Beeb's last production of it, sometime in the 80s with Timothy Dalton. Possibly because it was so faithful to the letter of the book, and when I was 14 this was the most important aspect to an adaptation.

This new BBC production, however, is going to supplant the old in my estimation. It is more faithful to the spirit; I have grown to realise the importance of this approach. This adaptation captures the delightful Gothicness of Bronte's writing, but also the incredible playfulness and humour that permeates Jane and Rochester's relationship. Andrew and I were constantly laughing at their conversations - Rochester's bluntness, his sarcasm, and Jane's candidness, bordering on tactlessness - and the scene where he pays her was a treat (it was a treat in the old production as well, and I'm just so glad I'm not the only one who read their dynamic that way).

The opening scenes are problematic, though. I did like Jane-in-the-desert, highly appropriate, but I was sad to see that the opening visual of her ensconced in the window-seat, something that impressed itself heavily on my mind when I read the book, was downplayed.

I also felt that the opening scenes were too quick, too fast. There was no anchoring for the viewer, it was all cut, cut, cut, from one scene to the next, from one locale to the next. As well as unsettling the viewer, I also feel it didn't express the atmosphere of Gateshead or Lowood, which is one of stifling repression.

Though I suppose that would have been a bit boring as an opening, they could have made more of Jane's flights of fancy.

The transition of characters from page to screen was well handled, I thought. When I was first introduced to Rochester-the-naturalist, I shrugged my shoulders and didn't think much on it - it wasn't a bad move, but I didn't see where they'd got it from. However, now I think about it, I really like it. There is a foundation in the text: from Rochester's observation of the beetle the night he declares himself to Jane, to his comparison of her to a bird when she tells him she has to leave, to his pursuit of beauty and bright things in Europe and further a field (which is easily translated to include not just the Beau Monde but the natural world).

I like it because it expands his character, and makes him far more rounded and human, instead of someone whose only interest in life is love.

Another character they've expanded is Helen Burns. I can see why they've done it, as she is in the book she's not exactly suited to modern tastes, but I can't help but protest that Helen Burns would never advocate escape through advertising to Jane.

Helen was all about accepting your lot in life and making the best of it. I wish they had kept that aspect of her personality intact, because I see Jane's life as a struggle between her fiery ten-year-old self and pious Helen's moralising. Jane gets what she wants not by accepting her lot, but fighting for her rights - though through far more cunning stratagems than her child-self would have had the patience for. Patience is what Helen taught Jane.

My penultimate discussion of character falls to Blanche Ingram, who has once again been made a blonde. This used to really piss me off when I was younger, because Blanche is such a cardboard cut-out character that making her blonde, instead of the raven-haired goddess she is, turns her into a ditz instead of a bitch.

However, they've played her well in this - she is very bitchy, very heartless, very intelligent (in that small, narrow kind of way). And I guess I can see why she's a blonde, for the contrast - otherwise Rochester chooses between a brunette and brunette, rather than a cold diamond and an elfin mustard-seed.

"Is she supposed to be likeable?" one of my co-watchers asked me of our eponymous heroine last night. "She's a little . . . dull."

One of the problems of any adaptation of a book written in the first person, I suppose, is the loss of interiority. Especially in Jane Eyre, where much of the appeal is the view we're allowed into the passionate heart of someone outwardly poor, plain, obscure and little.

(There's a great line lost, where Rochester asks if she can make him handsome, and she replies it is beyond any magic . . . but adds in her mind, a loving heart is all that is needed.)

However, by the time Jane leaves Thornfield for the Rivers' company, such thoughts (were she still having them) she would find difficult to hold back. She tells St. John that it was at Thornfield that she was began her life - at Thornfield she was forthright only with Rochester, but once thrust into life beyond its gates she retains her newfound sense of self (and boldness).

While this is a departure from the book (I don't think Jane would ever have spoken to St. John in the book as she habitually did on screen, except in the most dire circumstances) I appreciated its demonstration of Jane's growth at Thornfield, where she has not been trampled on.

I also really enjoyed the scene (or scenes, as they were in this adaptation) where Rochester tries to convince Jane to stay, after their aborted wedding. The physicality, with him lying on top of her, preventing her from going, and the sensuality, as he tries to seduce her into staying, were perfect.

The only wrong note was when he lies to her, pretending that he would take her to his Mediterranean villa only to live with her as a brother. He knows he's lying, she knows he's lying, we know he's lying - it all seems pretty pointless, really. Rochester in the book wouldn't lie to Jane - he would plead with her, coax her, threaten her, but never lie.

I wish instead of lying to her, he had threatened her. It would have made her insistence in leaving him all the more powerful - I have always loved that part in the scene where he asks her why she won't live in sin with him, when there is no one on earth to care what she does, and she replies that she cares. That sense of self is what gets her through incredible abuse - from the Reeds to Mr. Brocklehurst, from St John to Rochester.

Although, I suppose the filmmakers probably thought it would damage our perception of their relationship if we saw Rochester emotionally abusing Jane, so they left it out. Which is a shame, because Rochester is emotionally abusive to Jane throughout their relationship, an aspect that always appealed to me, because it made their relationship less perfect and more real.

St John's abuse of her was also downplayed. In the book, she's so overwrought by his manipulation that she tells him he's killing her, but here she calmly accepts his proposal and only later, in quiet reflection, rejects him.

I suppose they made her interaction with St John so bloodless to delineate the difference between Jane's two suitors.

Another line lost is where he tells Jane she's "made for labour, not for love." I missed that line because it really sums up everything that's wrong with St John. Jane has previously accused Rochester of believing her to be an automaton but in reality it St John who thinks her without feeling, without a need for anything more than honest toil.

Jane tells him that Rochester recognised her for who she was and loved her for it; St John tries to mold her into what he believes she should be, a woman without passion, without desire

Even in the book Jane is conscious of the need for sexual desire - she shudders with horror at "enduring all the forms of love (which [St John] would scrupulously observe)," if she were to marry him.

I loved that in the series they played up how contrastingly physical her relationship with Rochester is, compared to the (potential) one with St John.

When they re-unite, we again have Jane and Rochester's endearing teasing, but we also have him telling her he wants to spend all day in bed with her. "We're not the platonic sort," he says. I thought this aspect of their relationship was particularly well done, and fantastic to finally see on-screen.

Kyra already wrote that she thought what this adaptation does best is show Jane and Rochester's relationship as appealing, and I have to agree that the sex that simmers beneath their glances is awesome. Even if it does mean the viewer is slight bemused when Rochester calls himself ugly and Jane calls herself plain.

Either way, this DVD is definitely going on my Christmas list.