Aspiring New York writer Jo nervously reassures herself before submitting her papers over to a hard-eyed publisher. Obviously, a writer doesn’t draw experiential linguistic power out of thin air, as we then delve into her lengthy childhood backstory of maturing into womanhood alongside her three close but often conflicting sisters in a nostalgic view of the ballroom-bantering 1800s.
Merging a classic literature work and its definitive charm onto the film screen is a considerably challenging task. Its story’s transition into a film not only has to hold cinematic engagement and originality but retain a heavy fistful of faith to the source material as well. So how Louisa May Alcott’s much celebrated literature classic could’ve been considered filmable is quite debatable with the book’s history.
Little Women holds its reputation to this very day with its vibrant sisterly bonds that conflict and rejoice along a steadily growing linear path. Great book, but film structure poses several hazard flags to recapturing the same subjective magic of a book off-page, especially a sentimental family story in old New York. Well, screenwriter and director Greta Gerwig proves herself perceptive and quite splendid indeed in giving film form homage to Little Women.
If there’s one point to make about Little Women regarding its source material, it’s that it’s more of a celebration than a direct stylistic incorporation. What’s iconic is how the film abandon’s the novel’s linear narrative and uses flashbacks to a more comfortable past to contrast to the present day struggles. Scenes of past youthful siblinghood where the four sisters converse united under their mother’s roof have an air of pure nostalgic bliss: golden sunlight streams in through white curtains while the girls eagerly celebrate Christmas in the cosy countryside alongside angelic music, which shows the vibrant glee of the world of childhood in a unique way from literary text.
But sheer nostalgia without an end effect is but a pretentious charade of happiness, including looking back on the book’s legacy, and this film thankfully finds relevant purpose with painful and human feelings of loss that comes with each relooked day of the bright past.
As for the inevitable stylish visuals, Little Women successfully captures a feeling of unfelt 1800s nostalgia without, thankfully, coming across as overly pompous. From the wealthy ballroom halls and lush green flower gardens to the memory-making seaside, the stylish grandeur of these surrounding sets not only offers colourful immersion into Victorian wealth culture but amplifies character performances and the poetic pain of nostalgia.
So, beyond the bright style of its sets, the film’s heart is in the dialogue and subtle human development, which it gratefully takes ten whopping spoonfulls of from the book. But it does so without messily dolloping them unto conventional film format to create both an outdated style and stilted performances as so many book adaptations have done in the past. Natural but electrically-paced dialogue keeps the characters on their toes and make them instantly well-rounded, while knowing when to shave script down to retain an emotionally-capturing pace and when to simply let cinematography do the speaking.
As you may have guessed, the iconic main characters are all freshly developed with marvellous casting choices. Saoirse Ronan bringing her part as the youthful protagonist Jo greatly to life, who embarks on a rocky emotional journey, as well as Emma Watson and Florence Pugh bringing stellar energy to sisters Meg and Amy. The close friendship between rich boy Laurie and the sisters is also a delightful highlight as they grow up with each-others’ humorous antics and flaws, shown in moments such as Jo holding dress-up plays with him and when he and Amy reunite, only for him to get blaringly drunk at the ballroom. Gerwig even sneaks in a few humorously-aiding moments, such as giving Meryl Streep a solid role of the pompous but challenging Aunt March, who was little more than rumoured about in the novel.
But it’s the moral crisis of our protagonist Jo that impacts most profoundly, first leaping free into wealthy indulgence with healthy friends and celebrating her feminine independence before growing to discover the bitter loneliness that comes with social rebellion. This goes to cleave a sacrificial, bittersweet tale of a free feminist while always retaining its conflicting poetic humanity. When you discover it being more and more satisfying to root for Jo’s solidifying path as a hardened writer who tries to put her stories through the publisher’s prejudiced stubbornness, you know you’re witnessing a damn faithful piece.
Little Women is a tale of both a woman’s independence and the hardships of sisterly bonds. Its poetic soul is always expressed with excellent performance, faithful witty dialogue that never hashes a smart pacing, and gorgeous set pieces that brings Alcott’s world to life. While it may shave down a lot of lengthy novel moments to not end up with 4 hours of phatic talk, each character is still given the emotional patience to conjure the odd laugh or tear and feel as though you’ve grown with them. A joyful but none too sentimental ride.