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Oh, also? She wrote Little Women.
That brings us to the second incontrovertible fact, which is that up until very recently, I was almost totally ignorant about Little Women. Sure, I’d heard of it, and I was vaguely aware that the narrative concerned the exploits of the celebrated March sisters. I knew the 1868 novel was wildly popular. I knew that scads of adaptations had taken place over the years.* I didn’t know why.
Was my ignorance and apathy due to a kind of subconscious sexism? Yeah, I think so. The majority of films these days continue to have the point of view of a straight white dude, and that P.O.V. is viewed as “normal.” To make things more complicated, America continues to be a deeply racist and misogynistic country.** I’m a product of that, and I think the best way to move beyond that is through empathy. To up your empathy game, try immersing yourself into the point of view of someone unlike yourself. Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women allowed me to do just that through filmmaking that’s smart, funny, and up to the moment.
In the meantime, Jo’s sister Amy (Florence Pugh) is semi-enjoying herself in Paris. The upside for her is that she’s yearned to be an artist, and the exceptionally deep pockets of her Aunt March (Meryl Streep) allow her to get the very best schooling. The downside is that Aunt March is what you might call a traditionalist, and she delights in constantly reminding Amy that the young woman will soon need to give up her artistic pursuits and find a husband, preferably a rich one.
Additional complications ensue when Amy runs into Laurie (Timothée Chalamet). He’s a childhood friend of the March sisters, and while he delighted in all of their company, he still carries a torch for Jo. While all that is going on, we also check in with Amy’s sister Meg (Emma Watson). Meg has married John (James Norton), a man of innate decency yet modest means. They have two young children and love each other, but love can’t pay the bills.
To do that, Gerwig needed to know Alcott’s novel inside and out. She does, and she puts that extensive knowledge to use with dazzling creativity. The non-linear structure of her screenplay allows her to examine moments in the two timelines. We see how happenings and decisions in the lives of the March sisters reverberate through time, and the past and the present inform the characters and their choices. It’s fitting that Louisa May Alcott used moments from her own life to bring her novel to life. Gerwig takes a cue from the author and draws parallels between Alcott and the March family. Her screenplay is the perfect example of a writer making an adaptation that feels simultaneously respectful of the source material without being beholden to it.
Gerwig’s skillfully-made film bursts with life and energy. The mistake many period pieces make is that they hyper-focus on the details of the past, trapping the characters in amber. Little Women nimbly sidesteps that flaw, and characters living in the nineteenth century feel just as contemporary and relatable as the present day. The film is warm-hearted, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching this family blow into rooms with gale-force power, bicker, then ultimately support each other.
Is this version of Little Women absolutely necessary? It is. It’s an incontrovertible fact that every completed film is a small mountain climbed. To have a film like this that works on every single level, that celebrates the innate decency of people, and all during a time of seething hostility and polarization? It’s nothing short of miraculous.
* There have been eight film adaptations, nine television adaptations, an opera and a musical. For a novel written 152 years ago, that number of adaptations isn’t bad.
** ”No duh,” I hear millions of you saying. I had my mind blown listening to philosopher Kate Manne on a podcast. Check out her book Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny.
*** Florence Pugh apparently began filming this after her role in the psychologically horrifying Midsommar. I would imagine the experience was therapeutic.