Growing up, I probably read Little Women more than any other book; every time I didn’t know what to read, I picked it up again. As the oldest of nine girls, it was easy for me to relate to the March sisters and the challenges they faced. I saw pieces of myself in Jo, especially as I got older and realized that I could express myself best through writing. My sisters and I quote the 1994 film constantly, and it inspired two of them to include “For the Beauty of the Earth” in their weddings. So, though I was thrilled to see a new adaptation of this precious story, I was also worried that it wouldn’t do justice to the characters I love.
But oh, what a treasure Greta Gerwig has given us! It is so evident that she cares about these characters as much as I do and that she sought to honor the book in every creative decision she made. She and the incredible cast bring the March family to life in a new way, tying the sisters’ childhood to their adult life as no one else has, without ever straying from the soul of Alcott’s book. Just as I hoped, we get the chance to watch these four sisters laugh and stumble and grow as they learn to love each other and the people around them.
Gerwig understands that the March sisters are the heart of this story, always pointing us back to them. The film is told from Jo’s perspective, but Gerwig refuses to depict any of the sisters as one-dimensional caricatures. Instead, she helps us understand the thoughts and desires that make each of them unique, and we love each sister more as we get to know her better.
Meg gets the least screen time and could easily have been overlooked, but instead we get to see her skill as an actress, her struggle for contentment, and how she sacrifices some dreams in order to pursue what’s most important to her. When Jo doesn’t understand her choice to give up the possibility of fame as an actress in order to marry a poor tutor, Meg gets the chance to explain. She tells Jo, “Just because my dreams are different doesn’t mean they’re less important.” Through Meg, Gerwig helps us see that others may not see the value in our dreams, but that they can still be vitally, deeply important.
Beth has often been defined by her shyness in previous adaptations, loved by her family despite this all-encompassing flaw. Here, though, we get to see the wit and charm that are so endearing to the privileged few who have earned her trust. As invisible members of Beth’s inner circle, we get to smile as she feeds her dolls, talks to horses, and proclaims that purple is the best color for eyes. These quirks make Beth a real person, not merely a suffering angel, and they make us love her more–and make her death a far more painful tragedy.
Amy is beautifully transformed. We see the childhood vanity and impulsiveness that have dominated previous portrayals, but we also witness her confidence, the way she chases her dreams of being an artist, and how she’s hurt by her exclusion from her older sisters’ plans. We understand the weight placed on her shoulders by Aunt March’s declaration that the March family’s future depends on Amy’s advantageous marriage. This scene casts Amy’s later choices in a new light: her mercenary, calculated pursuit of Fred Vaughan suddenly becomes the only way she sees to support her family. And when she finally finds happiness with Laurie, Gerwig shows us how Amy is so desperately worried that choosing love would tear her family apart. When I’m tempted to grumble with Jo that Amy always avoids the hard parts of life, Gerwig reminds me that though Amy’s hardships might look different, they are just as real as others’.
And, of course, we get to see Jo through new eyes. Saoirse Ronan’s exquisite embodiment of Jo captures the tomboy who jumps over fences and scorches her skirts, but it doesn’t stop there. We watch her struggle with the burdens of poverty, wanting to support her family and especially to care for Beth when she’s sick–and see her crumble when the work she’s poured her life into can’t save her sister. We see her grow from a girl who easily gives in to anger to become a woman who has learned to control her temper, and watch her bond with her mother grow as they fight their battles together. We feel her loneliness, her struggle to balance the desire to be loved with the pursuit of artistic success. And, in one of the most moving scenes of the film, we see how she is utterly shattered when Laurie chooses Amy. We suffer with her in that moment, and watch in awe as she chooses to set aside her fantasy of a future with Laurie to support and accept their love even when it feels like it’s costing her everything. And we finally (finally!) get to rejoice with her when doors open to a future better than she could have imagined. More than ever before, we get to see Jo as a full person, shaped but not defined by her choices as a girl and by the memories she carries with her. It’s devastating and beautiful, and I’m so grateful.
I could go on about the exquisite moments that make up this film–about the beautiful cinematography and the lovely costumes and Timothee Chalamet’s stunning, emotional portrayal of Laurie–but they’re never the point of Little Women. At its heart, this film is always about the March sisters’ love for each other, and how that love expands to encompass the people around them. Their overflowing love even has room for us, letting us become a part of their family, if only for two hours. We share so many beautiful moments of exuberant joy with the Marches: Laurie and Jo dancing on the night they meet, all the sisters and their friends running together in the sunshine on the beach, the overflowing laughter when they induct Laurie into their club. And even as those gleeful moments are tempered by maturity, and as Beth’s death sobers the family, we still get to see joy. It’s just a new kind–a family together, listening to beautiful music, doing Jo’s hair and helping her go after the man she loves, coming together to teach and laugh and celebrate and go on loving. What a beautiful world we get to witness and to share. It’s captured my heart, and I can’t wait to rejoin these characters again and again.