Picture this: it’s a cozy December evening, you’re sitting in a cushy armchair next to a warm fireplace, idly sipping hot chocolate, and scrolling through Timothee Chalamet’s Instagram. This sensation, one of both comfort and enchantment (thanks to the sparkling eyes of a certain French actor), captures how I felt, walking out of the movie theater, after seeing Little Women. I’m sure you’re wondering, “How could anyone recreate the chemistry between Winona Ryder and Christain Bale in the iconic 1994 adaption?” Well rest assured, Greta Gerwig was more than up to the task. From the first scene, I was captivated. The film has all of the warmth and sweetness of the previous film but packs an even more socially-conscious punch. However, it does not preach or lecture. Instead, its sense of hope, of a world that needs to be and can be better, is carefully woven throughout each and every scene.
Gerwig doesn’t just nod to the revolutionary nature of Louisa May Alcott’s work, she salutes it. Alcott penned the book Little Women at a time when a woman writer was unthinkable, but nevertheless she persisted. Gerwig masterfully highlights the parts of the March sisters’ story that reflects Alcott’s own experience: the financial insecurity faced by women at the time, the toll that familial responsibility can take, the pressure to marry, the scorn that female authors received. Gerwig brought these themes to the very forefront of the film. For example, Amy’s monologue in the art studio humanized her character in a way I didn’t think was possible. Gerwig artfully placed Amy’s actions, which I found shallow and childish when I first read the novel, in a broader historical context that paints her as a much more sympathetic and even admirable character.
Speaking of sympathetic characters: Timothee Chalamet. His bright-eyed, ruffled-hair, boyish version of Laurie is amazing. His scenes made me laugh, they made me cry, they made me reconsider all of my pastimes that aren’t learning French for the sole purpose of impressing him. His fateful proposal scene with Saorsie Ronan made my jaw drop and caused my movie-going companion to melt into a puddle of tears. Ronan’s wide-eyed wonderment and unfaltering resolve capture the exact Jo I pictured when I first read the book. I had worried that Lady Bird was Greta Gerwig’s directorial peak. But she outdid herself. And both films have a similar approach to female characters and narratives. She tells stories of young women with grace; she never belittles, teases, or objectifies. Her films aren’t filled with the one-dimensional, catty, and shallow female characters I have sadly become used to. Teenage girls’ experiences are shown to be just as valuable and valid as the traditional, and respected, male coming of age story.
If asked to describe this movie in one word, I would choose “heart-warming.” But to be clear, the movie isn’t sickly sweet or disingenuous; and it doesn’t shy away from the issues that matter. In this film, Gerwig tackles misogyny, inequality, and the grip of the patriarchy head-on, but also intricately shines a light on the little triumphs. The message of Little Women is that life is filled with problems that are scary, overwhelming, and nearly impossible to overcome alone. But more importantly, it is entirely possible, and necessary, to create a little place of goodness in the world that makes these problems seem infinitely more conquerable.