Becoming Cliched, or How Hollywood ruined Jane Austen for me

I forgot to review this with the rest of my Labor Day viewing, so I'll try to make this a short rant.

Becoming Jane chronicles the period of Jane Austen's life that later served as the inspiration for Pride and Prejudice.  Jane meets a stranger to the country, and it's a rough start, and there's another suitor, but she falls for the stranger and blahblahblahblah.

While the principal actors were good (James McAvoy, Anne Hathaway, Dame Maggie Smith, and Julie Walters), I couldn't wait for this movie to be over because it felt like it would never end.  If I sat though another showing of that movie, I'd qualify to be a resident of Shady Pines.  It's not just because this movie is on the long side- it's because I've already seen a great deal of this story before.  Several times.

Now, I loved the book when I read it in high school, but the obsession with Jane Austen's most read work is getting to be a bit much.  Aside from 2005's Pride and Prejudice, there was the Bollywood rendition in 2004, Bride and Prejudice, and in 2003, there was a modernized Pride and Prejudice that took place in Utah.  Not to mention the much celebrated BBC miniseries that is reputed to be the end-all-and-be-all of P&P adaptations.   The first two are good, and I've never seen the other two, but exactly how many Jane Austen adaptations/odes does it take to have bled that source dry?

Hollywood, if the novels of the Bronte sisters are ever subjected to this treatment, I'm liable to flip out and move into a shack in the woods without electricity or indoor plumbing just to escape the sickening reverence of dead authors.