Little Women. REVIEW.

Given the text's numerous iterations as TV shows, stage productions, and feature films—including a pair of silent-era editions, 1933's magnificent Katherine Hepburn-starrer by George Cukor and Gillian Armstrong's excellent 1994 version (Gerwig's film is easily on par with those latter two gold-standard versions)—the noticeable freshness of this new "Little Women" is no small feat. But it shouldn't be a surprise, should it? In truth, Gerwig's artistic expression has always had a distinct auteurial stamp; a disarming uniqueness that shined through in mumblecores and Noah Baumbach collaborations alike, and that predates even her semi-autobiographical directorial debut.

It is a smart twist for “Little Women” loyalists as much as an inventive way-in for first-timers.The filmmaker generously pours her signature buoyancy into a novel she clearly knows inside and out here (spoilers ahead), infusing the yarn with the lived-in intimacy of "Lady Bird" and the womanly resilience and camaraderie that defines much of "Frances Ha." Furthermore, she successfully converts her authority over the book into gold, orchestrating the story's segments melodically and in a non-linear fashion. In doing so, Gerwig makes a bold claim: she unearths a reflective sense of memory and nostalgia within the dialogue she creates between the film's two timelines. Her well-paced flashback structure, laced with emotional peaks and soothing cadences, is initially perplexing and then awe-inspiring, but never disrespectful to Alcott's intentions.

Gerwig's command of "Little Women" does not end with her comfort in this configuration. Equally important is how she grasps and conveys the story's pleasant nature, which resembles the inviting warmth of a blanket on a cold winter day. Gerwig's "Little Women," like its predecessors, is cozy when the Marches gather around the fireplace or at a dining table for Christmas lunch. And it's a joy to see this friendly disposition (always aided by pitch-perfect costumes, Yorick LeSaux's snug cinematography, and a richly textured production design) gradually give way to something desperately romantic. Yes, on the one hand, Gerwig's film gently criticizes the traditional view of marriage as an institution in which men are financially expected to care for women.. But on the other, it also celebrates love and matrimony as choices equal to career dreams—Meg does, after all, choose to start a family and defend the validity of her decision to Jo in an understatedly feminist scene.