Review by Maggie Frank
Little Women is the story of four artistic women finding their way to adulthood during and after the Civil War. It was written by Louisa May Alcott, a struggling author, and was inspired by her experiences growing up in an unconventional family in Concord, Massachusetts. Alcott, whose father was a Transcendentalist writer/educator and whose mother was a social worker, financially supported her family throughout her life. She wrote Little Women and other children’s books more for want of money than for the desire to provide what she termed “moral pap for the young,” and her novel about the four March sisters was an immediate bestseller.
Little Women has been made and remade for film and television a grand total of fourteen times in the past 103 years. There were three new versions in the last three years alone: a 3-part miniseries starring Maya Hawke in 2017, a modernization of the story in 2018, and the most highly anticipated of the three, Greta Gerwig's, released on Christmas Day 2019. The reason for so many so close together is probably sesquicentennial of the publication of the novel. Originally, author Louisa May Alcott had published them as two books, Little Women in 1868 and sequel Good Wives in 1869, but they have been published as one volume, under the former's title, for some time.)
What more could Gerwig, who directed and scripted the newest adaptation, tell about the March sisters? Greta Gerwig's Little Women is not the most faithful to this novel (the 2017 version is), it doesn't have the best Jo (most other versions), it is not the most fun (tie between 1933 and 1949), it is not the most touching (1994), it is not the first to be directed by a woman (1994, 2017, and 2018), but it does have the most original vision and is the best tribute to the story of Louisa May Alcott.
This new film’s greatest accomplishment is the near equal treatment of the four sisters: sometime-actress Meg, writer Jo, pianist Beth, and painter Amy. Most previous adaptations have focused on Jo, losing most interest in Amy and Meg at the halfway point, only to bring Amy back at the eleventh hour with the resolution of her story and revisit Beth with her illness and eventual death. Gerwig focuses as much or perhaps more on the second half of the book than the first. She shows Meg's conflicting desires – to be a somewhat self-centered object of admiration and to serve those she loves – do not end with the decision to marry but continue with the everyday decisions of whether to put self or family first. Beth's struggle with debilitating shyness is highlighted, but her emotional immaturity – still playing with dolls into her late teens – is not… thank goodness. A little Beth goes a long way.
While the narrative centers on Jo, Amy stands out as not only her near-equal creative talent but also as an equally significant romantic heroine. While the Amys of films past always get the gentleman prize – rich, half-European, musical, sometime prodigal Laurie – it is not always believable because little of their courtship is seen. In Gerwig’s version, Amy not only deserves Laurie, but their courtship is, perhaps for the first time, a pleasure to watch.
The movie has a series of flashbacks – and, later, imaginings – of Jo’s, who meets with an editor to sell her stories. While this format did not improve upon the story, how refreshing it is for a seasoned fan to watch Little Women and not know what will be shown next.
The ending of Alcott’s Little Women is thrown out and an independent Jo, here standing in for real-life Alcott more than she ever has on page, screen, or stage, is celebrated as an entrepreneurial creature who not only negotiates for copyright and profit, but who will sacrifice her vision of her heroine – her fictional counterpart – to get published. It’s a great twist on a story that offers few real surprises to the Alcott-initiated.
Gerwig gets much right, down to the visuals of 1860s Massachusetts – the costumes and interiors are great. Gerwig also makes much of the father, Mr. March, in little time: Bob Odenkirk had little to say in this role, but he made a lot of what even in the novel is a dull, kindly, moralizing character. His well-written lines are warmly delivered.
The accomplishments of Gerwig's Little Women are such that one may only see its shortcomings when coming down from the high of seeing a beautifully made film. But the movie is not perfect. Some shortcomings will be noticed only by those who devour Little Women and other Alcott works:
The 1860s should not be so clean! The Marches are intellectuals, but they are working. Yet there was hardly a speck of dirt or a dribble of paint in this movie. Even Beth's scarlet fever lacked ugliness.
Each little woman seemed too complacent or even satisfied with her teenage status quo. The movie had nothing of Meg's trying work as a governess, Beth's dislike of her housework and stresses over helping the poor immigrant Hummel family, or Marmee's long hours. The family's relative poverty due to the absence of a traditional male breadwinner was similarly glossed over. The gift of their own Christmas breakfast to the Hummels doesn't have the punch it should; their lives seem too comfortable.
Two of the actresses, Florence Pugh and Emma Watson, are probably too old to play their characters. Emma Watson looks young enough to get away with playing oldest sister Meg, though she is nearly twice the age of the character. Florence Pugh, who ages from about 12 to 20, though creatively filmed, is too raspy-voiced to play the youngest sister in the first year of the film. Fortunately, Pugh's great performance and the crew’s work make up for this almost completely.
Meryl Streep as Aunt March, a role relished in previous versions by fine actresses such as Edna May Oliver, Mary Wickes, and Angela Lansbury, gives a disappointing performance. The character of Aunt March, who in the novel and other adaptations is not the spinster sister of the girls' father but his aunt by marriage (and who lives in a grand house with a French maid, exotic pets, and jewelry that once belonged to her one dead child), is social, stuffy, strict... and generous with her nephew’s wife and grandnieces in good and bad times. Gerwig changes Aunt March into a hypocritical, independently wealthy old spinster who criticizes her nieces' desires to prioritize their own happiness over advantageous marriages. The absence of gratitude expressed for Aunt March after her death, following Jo’s inheritance of Aunt March’s house, shows a lack of compassion, or worse, entitlement. Aunt March still provides some comic relief with a zinger or two, but these were spoiled by at times absurd delivery by an overacting Streep.
Saoirse Ronan was perhaps miscast as Jo. Ronan fails to communicate thoroughly two of Jo's most important qualities: her independent spirit and her temper. This may be the fault of the writing rather than the actor. Jo is a comparatively flat, sad being in Gerwig's Little Women. Most of her anger disappears following a fight with and near-fatal accident of a loved one. Jo’s resolve to live life on her own terms weakens towards the end, which is perhaps the worst thing about this adaptation. It is done for dramatic effect at the sacrifice of character. It makes one yearn for Jos past: the strength of Katharine Hepburn, the enthusiasm of June Allyson, the intimacy of Winona Ryder, and the authenticity of Maya Hawke. But though the energy was wrong, Ronan, a good actress, gets Jo right much of the time.
For all its dealing with life, love, and death, Little Women is a very funny book, but this film is low on humor. The scene of Jo's critical assessment of a portrait without knowing its subject is behind her? Not funny. Her tendency to burn her dresses when too close to the fire and then need to keep her backside against walls so no one can see the patches? Not funny. The sitcom-like misunderstandings such as Laurie thinking Jo had teeth out at the dentist while she was discreetly visiting an editor to get stories published? Not included. The humor is where the 1933 and 1949 versions excel. This Little Women has enough drama but not enough comedy, which is disappointing because Gerwig has demonstrated such understanding of comedy in her directorial debut Lady Bird and as a writer/performer in the films of Noah Baumbach.
Despite its flaws, Gerwig's film is a satisfying adaptation even for the biggest Little Women fans. The movie tells the story of the March sisters for a new generation of empowered women and, one would hope, Little Women fans.
Would Alcott have approved? Box office totals point to yes.