CHASING AMY
Director Greta Gerwig’s Little Women makes sense of misunderstood sister
Amy March, the youngest of the women in Little Women, has historically been the least liked of the four. Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 coming-of-age novel positions her as a foil to her older sister Jo, the author’s semi-autobiographical stand-in, and by contrast emphasizes Amy’s youthful selfishness and materialism. She eventually outgrows these traits, but they leave a lasting impression on many young readers.
The latest adaptation of
Little Women, now in theatres, suggests Amy is just misunderstood — a realization those same readers might reach as they reflect on the novel as adults. Similar to how she approached her solo directorial debut, Lady Bird, filmmaker Greta Gerwig challenges the black-and-white notion of likability that boxes in so many women, real and fictional. She exposes the childhood insecurities and adulthood practicalities underlying Amy’s behaviour, embodied by a capable actress: Florence Pugh, playing opposite Saoirse Ronan as Jo. (For those of you with short memories, Ronan also starred in Lady Bird.)
While Gerwig tweaks elements of the classic story — she allots more screen time to Amy than other versions have, for instance, and jumps back and forth between the March sisters’ girlhood and young adulthood — she remains faithful to the core of what Alcott wrote. Jo is still stubborn and passionate about her writing. Amy, the pesky little sister, is jealous of Jo but has her own artistic ambitions. Meg (Emma Watson), the eldest, imparts wisdom and isn’t ashamed of her desire to live a more traditional, domestic life. Beth (Eliza Scanlen), the third sister, is as sweet and gentle as ever.
Gerwig also borrows from the book a distressing scene in which Amy, upset that Jo and Meg left her at home to attend a play with their neighbour, Laurie (Timothée Chalamet), burns one of Jo’s stories out of spite. Amy defiantly reveals what she has done once Jo returns, and her immediate reaction to Jo’s outrage over the loss of her hard work is rather impudent. Soon enough, Amy realizes the error of her ways. They make amends after Jo helps save her from drowning in a nearby pond.
Instances like this contribute to the idea that Amy is more spoiled than her sisters, that she gets away with more. Sacrifice is a theme woven throughout Little Women, which takes place during the nation’s bloodiest war. As the girls’ father (Chris Cooper) serves in the Union Army, their mother, Marmee (Laura Dern), tries to instil in them an ability to live with less. For the most part, it works: Meg happily marries poor, while Jo writes for little pay. Beth, due to her poor health, is unable to contribute much.
Amy listens to the family’s wealthy Aunt March (Meryl Streep), who takes note of Jo’s disregard for marriage and tells the youngest March: “You are your family’s last hope.” She accompanies her aunt to Paris, where she takes painting classes and is courted by a rich, boring man. She also encounters a slightly older Laurie, who has got over Jo and questions why Amy is settling for a man she might not love.
In a powerful scene that clearly exhibits Gerwig’s stamp on the story, Amy informs Laurie that she isn’t ashamed of her desire to marry rich. As a woman, she isn’t able to make enough money to earn a living, and whatever she earns would belong to her husband anyway. Even their children would be his property.
“So don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is,” she says.
As an adult, Amy’s pursuit of wealth matures into one driven not by materialistic self-interest, but by a realistic view of how the world operates. Though Amy ends up with Laurie, her childhood crush, Gerwig doesn’t paint the character as someone who again wriggled “out of the hard parts in life,” as a teenage Jo says of her sister, but as a woman for whom the practical path simply wound up a pleasurable one, too.
Also remarkable in this year’s Midsommar, Pugh has earned best supporting actress nominations from nearly a dozen critics associations.
Her performance in Little Women obtains the difficult balance of capturing Amy’s bright and brash nature in one moment, her solemn and reserved behaviour in the next.
Somehow, Gerwig’s Amy
March steals the show. But this time, she worked for it.
Filmmaker Greta Gerwig challenges the black-and-white notion of likability that boxes in so many women, real and fictional.