I am lumping the Bingley-Hurst clan, the Darcy-De Bourg clan (and their former dependent Wickham) together, along with their residences. Next piece or couple of pieces will be on major setpieces of the story.

Darcy: I had the privilege of reading the book in 1994 or thereabouts, untainted by any of the adaptations, and my mental image of him then was Basil Rathbone in Guy of Gisbourne mode, only in 19th century clothes and cleanshaven. I would like him to be tall, good-looking in a thin-lipped aristocratic way, not as butch as Firth or as soft as MacFadyen, moving with a kind of intimidating feline grace. He has a certain underlying vulnerability – a kind of loneliness and over developed sense of responsibility – but it’s not really recognizable as such until the aftermath of Lizzie rejecting him. It would be interesting to have a Darcy who’s somewhat dandified; he doesn’t over dress or dress vulgarly, but his coats come in bottle-green and claret-red and navy blue, not just black; his waistcoats often have a discreet pattern, and he wears colored cravats tied in a variety of knots.

–He’s obviously an introvert, but his responses when addressed usually come smoothly and readily, although probably less so in the two proposal scenes. He’s attracted to Lizzie from first sight, and his putdowns on her appearance should be understood as him fighting that attraction. He is very sarcastic, with a style of humor similar to her father’s, but superficially more polite; I think part of why she spars with him is because it’s a style of conversation she’s used to. I am very fond of David Rintoul, Colin Firth, and Matthew Macfadyen, but I am sick to death of these Darcys who take five minutes to think of a response to whatever Lizzie says, and it’s time for one who can return the conversational ball with panache when Lizzie passes it. If all this sounds more like a dashing villain than a hero, that is the initial impression I would like him to make. The book puts him at 28 at the time of the first proposal; I’m willing to be flexible on age if the actor checks the other boxes.

Georgiana: very young, very tall, very shy. Apparently not as good-looking as her brother, and although fond of him, very intimidated by him. She is the one who confides her almost elopement with Wickham to Lizzie, after Caroline name-checks him at Pemberley; Darcy has only told Lizzie about the incident in general terms without naming the woman or explaining how he knows.

Pemberley should be both a good-sized, dignified house on rising ground, and feel rather cozy, soothing and livable compared to Rosings and Longbourne. Use CGI if needed to composite the right house into the right grounds.

Wickham: The book describes him as being “in his early thirties” when he is introduced, implying that he is at least two years older than Darcy, and possibly as much as seven, if you assume Wickham is thirty-four at that point and Darcy not quite twenty-eight. Wickham needs to seem like the hero: really, really good-looking, in a way that modern people would recognize as such, and really, really charming, and really, really sincere. His true colors only show when he and Darcy are alone, and he should come off as rather chilling there, to the point where the viewer is glad we have that intimidating, feline Darcy in between us and That Man. In private, face to face with his benefactor’s son, his feelings for Darcy should be naked envy and resentment of what he recognizes as a better man; Darcy’s for him should be smoldering anger, perhaps mixed with pity, or the kind of bitter resignation that Mr. Bennet feels in the presence of Mrs. Bennet.

Bingley: He should be a wholesome-looking, conventionally handsome man, not quite as pretty as Wickham or as aristocratic looking as Darcy. He, not Darcy, favors the limited color palette and decoration of the Beau Brummel style of dress; mostly as a short-hand for “not quite as rich as the other guy.” He should have good-natured, unpretentious manners and come off as sensible and articulate, but not an intellectual – his mild mockery of Darcy and Lizzie when they’re trying to have a debate about whether persuadability is a good trait or not, is a good indicator for this side of his personality. Use the 1980 version, and the 1960s radio play of AA Milne’s adaptation, as your guide here: too many versions portray him as actively dumb. Around Jane Bennet, he becomes rather insecure and over-eager to please, with her reserve only making him try harder.

Caroline Bingley: like the younger Bennet sisters, she wears rather extravagant clothes, but on her they work – better tailoring, more flattering colors, more tasteful accessories, whatever it takes to achieve that effect. She’s charming and dignified but in a rather insincere way; not the harridan some versions make her out to be. Mrs. Hurst is an older, more stressed and more matronly version of her.

Mr. Hurst: Use the 1980s version as a partial guide, not the Jabba the Hutt wannabe from 1995. He’s a full-fledged dandy with spotted neckerchiefs, shirt collars so high he can’t turn his head, multiple rings, ruffles everywhere, possibly a quizzing glass which he uses to squint at Lizzie when she says something he disagrees with. Slow, drawling speech, hints of a gambling addiction in his obsession with cards, and the way his wife flinches when he raises the stakes.

Netherfield Park: Built around the same time as Longbourne, it should seem larger, grander, and have more old-fashioned interiors than Longbourne. It has a fairly small library of perhaps fifty volumes, and if the titles come up they should be of books at least twenty years old at the time the story takes place.

Lady Catherine: again, use 1980 as a role model, not the newer versions – a handsome, well-dressed woman in her forties or fifties, possibly with a slight resemblance to her nephews. She’s smug and posh and the things she says are rude, but she doesn’t necessarily say them in a rude way. Give her almost a Martha Stewart brand of patronizingly gracious helpfulness. She is actively pressuring Darcy to propose to her daughter during his time at Rosings.

Ann De Bourg: The impression should be of a rather grumpy, fragile young woman who doesn’t like the idea of marrying Cousin Darcy any more than he does. She’s probably more like the popular idea of Mary Bennet than our Mary Bennet is. She is several years younger than Darcy, and Lizzie calls out Lady Catherine’s “betrothed in their cradles” line as hyperbole.

Colonel Fitzwilliam: he’s not super-goodlooking and underneath his pleasant manners he comes off as a bit flighty. He is *not* a combat veteran, the younger son of an Earl being the kind of person you find in an expensive, highly ornamental regiment that doesn’t do much. Basically, he’s Wickham’s more benign mirror image: that charming, shallow guy who’s hanging out for a rich wife but unlike Wickham he is honest about that. He doesn’t actively flirt with Lizzie, seeing himself more as his cousin’s wingman.

Rosings Park: this is a new build in the neo-Gothic Strawberry Hill House style; but where Strawberry Hill House comes off as rather cute and quaint, Rosings feels oppressive and overbearing. The grounds, like Strawberry Hill’s should be rather extravagant and Rococco and the plantings less attractive than Longbourne’s or Pemberley’s.