SPOILER-FREE REVIEW
While it may not appeal to some, Little Women’s phenomenal performances, accomplished direction and production design grant it remarkable staying power and emotional weight.
What can a novel written in the late 19th Century offer today? As it turns out, a lot, in the right hands. While Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s famous novel Little Women is not the first (it’s the seventh, indicative of the novel’s staying power), it highlights something rare in the world of literature: timelessness. It captures effortlessly a sense of elegance and warmth that many other films lack, a sense that rather than watching people on a screen in a dark room, you’re watching an oil painting in motion. The story, of familial bonds and love, and its careful consideration of a woman’s role in society, remains as compelling as it’s ever been and that’s why Hollywood is rightfully eager to revisit it now.
Gerwig approaches the story of the four March sisters, all coming of age as their father is away fighting in the American Civil War, from an unexpected direction. The famous novel on which this is based is semi-autobiographical, incorporating some of the events in the life of its author Alcott and her three sisters. Regardless, a lack of background knowledge proves to be no obstacle. For this retelling, Gerwig chooses to create a non-linear timeline and flits between the events of 1861 and 1868 which, while complex, allows the film to maintain a good pace while remaining comprehensible. The contrast it creates between the past and present lives of the four sisters is stark, and each moment in the story is timed to land precisely when it would have the maximum emotional impact. However, the choice to jump between reality and fantasy can cause some confusion. Things become head-scratchingly meta towards the end, and it’s hard to decide whether that choice truly proves good or necessary.
Little Women succeeds on the strength of its many stellar performances regardless. Appropriately, there’s a distinct focus on its women, with the film’s male cast members delivering serviceable but unremarkable performances for a story that isn’t really about them. Out of them, Timothee Chalamet comes the closest to delivering a memorable performance as the sisters’ childhood friend Laurie, but his lovesickness begins to grate and it becomes unclear whether the audience is supposed to like him or not. Though he has marvellous chemistry with his female co-stars, he can’t hold a candle to any of them, and to be fair it’s hard to see how he could. Eliza Scanlen, Emma Watson and Florence Pugh are all phenomenal. Scanlen delivers a superbly understated performance as Beth, Watson effortlessly brings her character Meg’s struggles to life with considerable care and poise, and Pugh gives a commendable performance as the 12-year-old Amy, even though no one can really pull off playing a child half their age. However, she brings nuance, depth and sophistication to the older Amy in a stunning performance more than worthy of the Academy’s attention. Meryl Streep has a small role as the iron-willed Aunt March, but manages to steal scenes and delight regardless.
However, the film’s true standout performance comes from Saoirse Ronan, who plays Jo March. Under Gerwig’s direction, she becomes a force of nature from opening to closing scene with a standout performance in a film that almost contains nothing but. It is around Jo that Little Women’s sisterhood coheres, with Ronan bringing together her three co-stars with her striking sense of presence. A scene on a beach, where Beth sits listening to Jo read a story to her, was genuinely one of the best scenes in film I’ve ever seen, and it contained little more than a towel, a book and those two remarkable performances.
Gerwig and production staff are by no means resting on their laurels. Little Women has accomplished cinematography, with colour and tone used brilliantly to mark the line between past and present. When the film segues into the past, often seemingly at the snap of a finger, everything seems shaded in warm oranges, reds and golds as if the audience is handed a set of literal rose-tinted glasses. In stark contrast, the present is cold, with shades of blue, green and grey, hinting at the struggles of adulthood and difficult times. This use of colour is folded into the film’s overarching narrative; it tells part of the story without saying a word. Alexandre Desplat also brings an especially stirring score; with films like The King’s Speech in his portfolio, it’s perhaps unsurprising that we’re treated to the work of a seasoned, practiced hand.
That being said, maybe bring a snack. Clocking in at just over the two-hour mark, Little Women is by no means the longest film ever made, but it has impressive energy and it takes plenty of energy to keep up. People who think that this isn’t really their type of movie will be susceptible; the phenomenal acting and direction go far, but they aren’t limitless. If, for example, you find period drama to be dull as ditchwater and don’t care much for the lives of a bunch of lower-middle-class white people falling in and out of love, expert acting will only carry you so far. However, if you are thinking that this isn’t your type of film: ignore your gut and go anyways. Chances are high that Little Women’s performances and Greta Gerwig’s accomplished direction will win you over, and it’s beyond refreshing to see a film that caters for something other than instant gratification.
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