Modern filmmakers have often looked to Jane Austen’s novels as the basis for their storylines, with well-known examples including Bride and Prejudice, Clueless, and Bridget Jones’s Diary. The most recent film to tackle Austen’s subject matter is Fire Island, an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice released in 2022, which follows five gay men navigating a vacation on the very island for which the movie is titled. Noah, the protagonist, refers to Jane Austen as “the queen” (0:00:46) within a minute of the film commencing, though as the story unfolds, an increasing number of elements true to her original Pride and Prejudice are subverted. Such developments leave viewers questioning whether Austen can authentically be “the queen” of her time and still reign to this day.

Some may argue that the continual production of film adaptations is proof enough that Austen is still relevant. However, this viewpoint fails to consider which elements of Austen these films are drawing upon—be they simple plot points or deeper thematic undertones. Simply regurgitating a rom-com storyline that viewers have shown a liking to is a low bar for designating Austen’s work relevant in the year 2024. Thus, it is necessary to evaluate the specific elements that have changed and those that have remained constant in modern adaptations, and Fire Island, being the most recent, offers the most compelling case study.

One of the most striking differences in Kim Booster’s adaptation is the evidence of representation—both LGBTQ+ and racial. In fact, Fire Island opens with Noah rebuking one of Pride and Prejudice’s most iconic lines that “a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife” (Austen 1). In Noah’s words, “no offense to my girl Jane but that sounds like some hetero nonsense” (0:00:57). This response is one that quickly signals to audiences that Austen’s words are jarring in the modern era, including for Noah, a gay Asian man, and his sexual partner from the previous night appearing on screen soon after, a gay Black man. As the film progresses, evidence of representation is further expanded. Noah’s core group of friends is composed of another Asian man, a Black man, a White man, and a Latino man—all of whom are gay. Additionally, his host on Fire Island is an Asian lesbian. Together, Noah’s hookup, friends, and host offer a stark contrast to Austen’s entirely white and straight cast of characters, which, while historically accurate, lack the ability to resonate with today’s increasingly diverse audiences.

It is important to note that some have offered a queer theory reading of Pride and Prejudice, thus expanding its potential relevance. In her paper, Jane Austen’s Open Secret: Same-Sex Love in Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Persuasion, Jennifer Leeds argues that Mr. Darcy becomes subconsciously jealous of Mr. Bingley’s relationships with women, but that “[both men] ultimately sacrifice their queer attachment in order to gain heterosexual sexual identities” (Leeds 23). However, the obscurity of analyses such as this one, often being confined to graduate-level theses, points to LGBTQ+ representation being imperceivable to most readers. As for racial representation, the only possible argument is one of their presence being tragically implicit, with the institution of slavery having driven the enrichment of England’s upper class at this time.

Another clear departure in the film exists in the influence of technology, more specifically smartphones. In Pride and Prejudice, characters are left to question each other’s disposition and intentions, unless they directly interact. So important was this tradition of interaction, or “calling on” one another, that Mrs. Bennett protests, “We are in no way to know what Mr. Bingley likes . . . since we are not to visit” (Austen 5), in response to Mr. Bennet’s supposed refusal to make an introduction. On the other hand, in Fire Island, smartphones enable the characters to “stalk” one another ahead of time, revealing facets of another’s personality that may be performative but nonetheless increase comfortability when first interacting. Such is the case with the love interest of Howie, Noah’s best friend, whose Instagram reveals that “his name is Charlie, and he’s got a dog emoji, a plant emoji, and a stethoscope emoji” (0:15:12). For modern audiences, interpreting emojis is far more relatable than the custom of heads of households “calling on” one another —once more pointing to Austen’s dwindling relevance in the universally important matter of “first impressions,” the original title of Pride and Prejudice.

Regarding the role of smartphones, Fire Island also explores the usage of dating apps. Against the backdrop of an outdoor party abounding with gay men, Luke, one of Noah’s friends, turns to Grindr, a gay hookup app, in search of potential matches. In a show of the prevalence of such apps, he even remarks to Noah, “if you had a phone right now, you’d be ‘Grinding’ as well” (0:13:19). A parallel scene in Pride and Prejudice—the ball at Netherfield — reveals that the steps to finding a suitor look far different for Elizabeth. Having promised him under duress, Elizabeth is forced to endure two “dances of mortification . . . [with] Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn . . . moving wrong without being aware of it” (Austen 65). The inability of Elizabeth to dance with the men she wishes to, or at least someone more agreeable than Mr. Collins, contrasts sharply with Luke’s agency to chat or block on Grindr without consequence. In the era of more dating apps than the App Store can handle, Luke’s experience is the common one, once more rendering the traditions of Austen’s time and her extended writing about them archaic.

The prevalence of hookup apps in Fire Island points to its final, major departure from Pride and Prejudice: its emphasis on and encouragement of casual sex. After settling on the island, Noah remarks to Howie, “Literally I’m not going to look at another guy until you get laid” (0:10:01). In other words, Noah not only wishes for Howie to have casual sex, but has set a personal incentive to ensure it occurs. On the other hand, Mrs. Bennet remarks in reference to Mr. Bingley that he is “A single man of large fortune; four of five thousand a year . . . a fine thing for our girls . . . I am thinking of his marrying one of them” (Austen 3). For Mrs. Bennet, the only possibility is that her daughters will have sex after marriage, so she occupies herself with facilitating the latter task. When Howie doesn’t make it home one night, Noah believes his plan may have worked, calling Howie a “little whore” (0:26:16) to the friend group. In Pride and Prejudice, Jane similarly does not arrive home from Mr. Bingley’s estate and, in explaining herself, writes “‘I find myself very unwell this morning, which I suppose is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday . . . excepting a sore throat and headache there is not much the matter with me’” (Austen 23). To modern audiences, and certainly characters in Fire Island, this letter reads as having sexual undertones. To Elizabeth, the recipient of the letter, however, the concept of her sister having premarital sex is an impossibility. In a world where “97% of [Americans] who had ever had sex had done so premaritally” (Finer) and “69 percent [of Americans] . . . believed premarital sex to be morally acceptable” (“Opinons on Sex”), the true impossibility is for readers to resonate with Elizabeth, and in turn, Austen, on this subject.

While it is evident that examples of Fire Island subverting Austen’s Pride and Prejudice abound, it is equally important to note their shared qualities. Among these, the first to become clear is a discussion of social stratification. On the ferry ride to Fire Island, Noah states, “In our community, money isn’t the only form of currency. Race, masculinity, and abs are just a few of the metrics we use to separate ourselves into upper and lower classes” (0:03:55). The use of the term “classes” is clearly hyperbolic in this context, but connects to Pride and Prejudice’s historical setting: the Regency Era in Great Britain. There, “English society revolved around a social hierarchy that managed much of what one did or could say” (“Rank and Class”). This can be seen in Pride and Prejudice itself, with it being described that “Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when [his relations] became public” (Austen 85). In other words, because Mr. Bingley came from a background of greater wealth than Jane, his reputation would have been diminished by their union. This echoes the experience of men on Fire Island, who, Noah states, observe the rule of “no fats, no fems, no Asians” (0:03:40) in an attempt to preserve their unspoken gay class status.

It is vital to note that in both works, social stratification is perpetuated by those who seek to gain or maintain power because of it. In Pride and Prejudice, Mrs. Hurst, the sister of Mr. Bingley, remarks, “I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl . . . But with such a father and mother, and such a low connection, I am afraid there is no chance of [relations with my brother]” (Austen 26). Mrs. Hurst views a marriage between Jane and Mr. Bingley as bringing dishonor to her family and decreasing her agency to interact in new, upper-class social circles. Accordingly, she invokes her prejudice against lower social classes to prevent it. A parallel scene occurs in Fire Island when Noah and his friends arrive at a mansion that is the home of Charlie, Howie’s love interest, and Will, Noah’s eventual love interest. Upon stepping inside, Noah states “A lot of people think you have to be successful, white, and rich, with 7% body fat to vacation on Fire Island. Those people are all at this party” (0:19:42). Soon after, a man fitting that very description looks at Noah’s group and remarks, “Excuse me, can we help you? . . . I think you may have the wrong house” (0:19:45-0:19:53). Motivated much like Mrs. Hurst, this man views the entrance of Noah’s group as threatening the legitimacy of his party, as well as his ability to find a hookup. As such, he speaks condescendingly to them, verbally designating their separate statuses.

Another way Fire Island reaffirms the relevance of Pride and Prejudice, and thus Jane Austen, is its overarching theme of characters trying to decipher authenticity. In Pride and Prejudice, this experience largely falls to Elizabeth and her relationships with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth initially thinks Mr. Darcy is disagreeable, having overheard him say, “she is tolerable . . . but not handsome enough to tempt me” (Austen 9), and having thought he prevented Mr. Bingley from becoming close to Jane. On the other hand, Elizabeth initially believes Mr. Wickham is charming with “a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address” (Austen 52). In pursuit of determining which of these men is truly authentic, Elizabeth’s perceptions are ultimately reversed. Mr. Darcy respects Elizabeth’s boundaries and seeks to look out for her—revealing Mr. Wickham’s financial woes and attempt to elope with Georgiana, his much younger sister. Mr. Wickham confirms that this behavior is one of his true character, shifting his attention to the newly-rich Ms. King before lustfully pursuing Elizabeth’s own sister, Lydia. In Elizabeth’s own words, “One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it” (Austen 155).

In Fire Island, Elizabeth’s experience is embodied by Noah who, after overhearing a similarly rude comment, yells at Will, “I have never met anyone who has made it so clear so immediately that they think they’re so superior than anyone else” (0:57:53). This is a clear callback to Elizabeth’s own ranting at Mr. Darcy in which she exclaims, “from the first moment . . . of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance . . . and your selfish disdain of the feeling of others, were such to to form the groundwork of . . . so immovable a dislike” (Austen 132). Yet, as with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Noah eventually recognizes Will’s genuine intentions, finding connection in reading, nonprofit work, and a distaste of Dex’s performative activism online. The result is their kissing at sunset in a moment of intimacy that mimics Elizabeth’s acceptance of Darcy’s second marriage proposal. Dex’s true character is revealed when it becomes public that he filmed a hookup with Noah’s friend and posted it online nonconsensually. In response to this revelation Noah exclaims, “I’m pissed because you’re a loser and a fraud who takes advantage of people” (1:17:18). This statement exemplifies how Noah’s feelings have dramatically evolved much like Elizabeth’s had. Importantly, in Darcy’s pairing with Will and Wickham’s pairing with Dex, the specific details of their story and authenticity, or lack thereof, are not identical. However, their overarching behavior, and the response of the characters caught in between—Elizabeth and Noah—remains constant, speaking to a human truth that transcends space and time.

Perhaps most compelling, Pride and Prejudice and Fire Island not only feature characters with shared behaviors, but also the self-awareness to recognize when they’ve made mistakes. Upon realizing how ignorant her behavior was in Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth “grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd” (Austen 144). In the final scene of Fire Island Noah echoes this sentiment, stating, “You know . . . my whole life I feel like I’ve had everything figured out, everybody. And then I come out here and I just keep getting thrown. It’s like God, have I been wrong about everything this week?” (1:35:18). Both of these quotes demonstrate deep reflection on the part of Elizabeth and Noah. Their inclusion represents a way both characters can not only reconcile with their past but also move forward in a more thoughtful manner, a lesson that Austen may have first articulated but that Fire Island affirms.

Fire Island’s final scene offers a poignant lens from which to examine Austen’s relevance. Noah asks Will the ever-challenging question of “So what do you want?” (1:35:56). In response, Will professes “I want that” (1:36:03), and looks in the direction of an elderly interracial gay couple dancing on the dock. To the tune of “Last Dance” by Donna Summers, Noah and Will proceed to dance themselves, basking in the sunset and in the support of their friends looking on. In many ways, this scene can be interpreted as a dialogue between readers and Austen’s works today. Austen’s works pose the question “So what do you want?” and readers have responded: characters and themes applicable to our complex world, as well as comforting traditions, embodied in this scene through the persistent art of dance. Ultimately, it's up to readers to decide whether they better find this in original source material such as Pride and Prejudice or modern adaptations such as Fire Island. Nonetheless, the opportunity exists in both, meaning Jane Austen is far from having her “Last Dance”.