Greta Gerwig's sophomore directorial effort takes the form of a new adaptation of Louisa May Alcott's seminal Little Women, a novel whose story of sisterhood and family still resonates generations later. Tackling the hefty piece of literature, Gerwig's Lady Bird follow-up is another exemplary achievement that proves the writer-director as one of our finest filmmakers in only her second feature.
The March sisters' - comprising of the writer Jo, painter Amy, actress Meg and musical Beth - come of age in the aftermath of the Civil War, determined to live their lives on their own terms. Featuring one of the starriest ensembles of the year, including - but not limited to - Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Eliza Scanlen, Timothée Chalamet, Laura Dern and Meryl Streep, Gerwig's interpretation marks the novel's seventh feature-length adaptation.
Hired as the project's writer before its director, Greta Gerwig's screenplay is a beautifully poetic piece of writing crafted with so much thought and consideration towards the characters who populate the tale and their loving relationships with one another. Paying perfect tribute to Alcott's original while leaving an indelible mark of her own, Gerwig ingeniously structures her screenplay to weave between the different time periods non-linearly, developing an extraordinary rhythm without ever feeling disorientating to audiences unfamiliar with the novel. Masterfully layered and precisely executed while never losing the irresistible warmth that radiates throughout it, it takes an unbelievably talented writer to balance something so perfectly and Gerwig does it with ease.
That same warmth and emotion are imbued throughout Gerwig's utterly sublime direction, compassionate and welcoming at every turn; the film clocks in at a solid 135 minutes but not once does it come close to overstaying its welcome, another testament to Gerwig's storytelling gift. The world she introduces you to, despite never holding back on the social and economic hardships of the era, is one you never wish to leave, so lovingly bound together by a writer-director with an unmistakable affection for her source material.
Gerwig's ability to parallel events across the two time periods, enriched by such breathtaking cinematography from Yorick Le Saux, allows her Little Women to soar; the decision to identically frame two similar events with very different outcomes not only showcases an extraordinary level of visual craft but it is too a glorious storytelling decision that enhances the emotion ten-fold, made possible by Nick Houy's powerful editing. It's difficult to imagine any other director crafting such a remarkable piece, with Gerwig offering deeply-felt sentiment to her imagining of the March sisters.
While this is mostly an ensemble effort, Saorise Ronan leads from the front with unparalleled conviction. Gerwig has evidently poured a lot of herself into Jo March and Ronan runs with the interpretation, delivering a soul-stirring performance that explores the character's creativity and independence which she begins to grapple with as the years - and her childhood - passes. Timothee Chalamet is the perfect Laurie, playing against Ronan (especially) so superbly. His unwaveringly natural charisma and amiable personality is a perfect match to the role, with Chalamet's Laurie's twinkling adoration for the sisters the same we as an audience hold towards them even after spending just a few minutes with them. His supporting performance captures this with such delight, and it's an utter joy to witness.
Topping off what can only be described as a banner year, Florence Pugh's work as Amy threatens to steal the show altogether. Of them all, Pugh displays the most growth over the seven-year time gap, illustrating Amy's development from somewhat of a spoiled brat into, in the words of Aunt March, "her family's last hope". Despite the greater difference between the 1861 and 1868 Amy, it is undoubtedly the same character, proof of Pugh's attention to detail and great understanding of the character. Eliza Scanlen, in a more limited role, works such refined wonders too, carefully-realising the innocence, nativity and fragility of Beth in such an understated way that the character arc cuts deeper the more it progresses as a result.
Getting this far and not mentioning the seriously and unsurprisingly terrific work of both Laura Dern and Meryl Streep only reinforces the collective brilliance of this cast. Both Dern and Streep's characters represent very opposing examples of mother figures; the homely Marmee a far cry from the curt Aunt March, once again illustrating the wonderful duality running through this wonderful adaptation. And to close without mentioning the splendid efforts of composer Alexandre Desplat would be too great an oversight. Desplat's luscious score manages to feel both familiar and unique unto the film, a stunning achievement working in perfect harmony by successfully enriching the gorgeous environment cultivated by the film.
There's unlikely to be a version of Little Women better than Gerwig's deeply nostalgic yet wonderfully contemporary realisation of the well-worn tale. It is pure magic, bound with such compassion and authenticity and emotion, hardly putting a foot wrong in the process. Gerwig thrives on both the writing and directing front, empowering her cast to achieve brilliance of their own, with Ronan, Chalamet and Pugh shining brightest. Little Women is one of the year's very best films, a marvellous accomplishment that has already found a special place in my heart.
Summary: I've thought long and hard about a negative word I can say about Greta Gerwig's Little Women. I can think of absolutely none. A beautifully blissful feature none of us really deserve, but one we absolutely need.
The March sisters' - comprising of the writer Jo, painter Amy, actress Meg and musical Beth - come of age in the aftermath of the Civil War, determined to live their lives on their own terms. Featuring one of the starriest ensembles of the year, including - but not limited to - Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Eliza Scanlen, Timothée Chalamet, Laura Dern and Meryl Streep, Gerwig's interpretation marks the novel's seventh feature-length adaptation.
Hired as the project's writer before its director, Greta Gerwig's screenplay is a beautifully poetic piece of writing crafted with so much thought and consideration towards the characters who populate the tale and their loving relationships with one another. Paying perfect tribute to Alcott's original while leaving an indelible mark of her own, Gerwig ingeniously structures her screenplay to weave between the different time periods non-linearly, developing an extraordinary rhythm without ever feeling disorientating to audiences unfamiliar with the novel. Masterfully layered and precisely executed while never losing the irresistible warmth that radiates throughout it, it takes an unbelievably talented writer to balance something so perfectly and Gerwig does it with ease.
That same warmth and emotion are imbued throughout Gerwig's utterly sublime direction, compassionate and welcoming at every turn; the film clocks in at a solid 135 minutes but not once does it come close to overstaying its welcome, another testament to Gerwig's storytelling gift. The world she introduces you to, despite never holding back on the social and economic hardships of the era, is one you never wish to leave, so lovingly bound together by a writer-director with an unmistakable affection for her source material.
Gerwig's ability to parallel events across the two time periods, enriched by such breathtaking cinematography from Yorick Le Saux, allows her Little Women to soar; the decision to identically frame two similar events with very different outcomes not only showcases an extraordinary level of visual craft but it is too a glorious storytelling decision that enhances the emotion ten-fold, made possible by Nick Houy's powerful editing. It's difficult to imagine any other director crafting such a remarkable piece, with Gerwig offering deeply-felt sentiment to her imagining of the March sisters.
While this is mostly an ensemble effort, Saorise Ronan leads from the front with unparalleled conviction. Gerwig has evidently poured a lot of herself into Jo March and Ronan runs with the interpretation, delivering a soul-stirring performance that explores the character's creativity and independence which she begins to grapple with as the years - and her childhood - passes. Timothee Chalamet is the perfect Laurie, playing against Ronan (especially) so superbly. His unwaveringly natural charisma and amiable personality is a perfect match to the role, with Chalamet's Laurie's twinkling adoration for the sisters the same we as an audience hold towards them even after spending just a few minutes with them. His supporting performance captures this with such delight, and it's an utter joy to witness.
Topping off what can only be described as a banner year, Florence Pugh's work as Amy threatens to steal the show altogether. Of them all, Pugh displays the most growth over the seven-year time gap, illustrating Amy's development from somewhat of a spoiled brat into, in the words of Aunt March, "her family's last hope". Despite the greater difference between the 1861 and 1868 Amy, it is undoubtedly the same character, proof of Pugh's attention to detail and great understanding of the character. Eliza Scanlen, in a more limited role, works such refined wonders too, carefully-realising the innocence, nativity and fragility of Beth in such an understated way that the character arc cuts deeper the more it progresses as a result.
Getting this far and not mentioning the seriously and unsurprisingly terrific work of both Laura Dern and Meryl Streep only reinforces the collective brilliance of this cast. Both Dern and Streep's characters represent very opposing examples of mother figures; the homely Marmee a far cry from the curt Aunt March, once again illustrating the wonderful duality running through this wonderful adaptation. And to close without mentioning the splendid efforts of composer Alexandre Desplat would be too great an oversight. Desplat's luscious score manages to feel both familiar and unique unto the film, a stunning achievement working in perfect harmony by successfully enriching the gorgeous environment cultivated by the film.
There's unlikely to be a version of Little Women better than Gerwig's deeply nostalgic yet wonderfully contemporary realisation of the well-worn tale. It is pure magic, bound with such compassion and authenticity and emotion, hardly putting a foot wrong in the process. Gerwig thrives on both the writing and directing front, empowering her cast to achieve brilliance of their own, with Ronan, Chalamet and Pugh shining brightest. Little Women is one of the year's very best films, a marvellous accomplishment that has already found a special place in my heart.
Summary: I've thought long and hard about a negative word I can say about Greta Gerwig's Little Women. I can think of absolutely none. A beautifully blissful feature none of us really deserve, but one we absolutely need.