Adaptation Comparison: Little Women

Today, I’m staying home for the people driving trucks and delivering needed materials/items.

I had it in mind to do a post like this shortly after I saw the 2019 version of Little Women, comparing it to the beloved 1994 version that’s been a favorite of mine for many years. However, I got busy writing Oscar reviews and never quite circled back around to it. I do want to write about it, though. Again, the 1994 adaptation holds a dear place in my heart, so the new film had a tall order in store for it, but while I’d say my overall preference remains with the version from my childhood, this most recent edition still brings some qualities that make it stand out in its own right (spoilers for both versions – as well as the book, obviously.)

I’ll admit that the 1994 cast is etched pretty indelibly in my mind. When I picture Jo, Beth, Marmee, or Laurie, for example, I very definitely think of Winona Ryder, Claire Danes, Susan Sarandon, and Christian Bale. All of them captured my imagination and chrystalized my impressions of the characters. The 2019 cast has some clear heavy hitters in it – for my money, the best are Saoirse Ronan’s Jo and Florence Pugh’s Amy, both bringing their own spins to the roles. A few of the other parts, though, feel a bit elusive. I love Laura Dern and Timothée Chalamet, but both feel slightly off to me as Marmee and Laurie, Dern a little too modern and Chalamet more like Marches’ kid brother (especially in the adult sections.)

Likewise, the 1994 version is the winner for me when it comes to some of the most iconic scenes: Jo and Laurie dancing at the party, Mr. Laurence giving Beth the piano, the proposal scene, Jo sitting at Beth’s deathbed. Even small moments like the March sisters wistfully packing up their Christmas breakfast to give to the Hummels – if I close my eyes, I can picture them perfectly. The movie nicely weaves together a smooth narrative despite copious necessary edits to the source material, and it all coalesces into a beautiful adaptation.

The 2019 version, in turn, is a little riskier. It feels a bit self-conscious at times as it forges its own separate path from the 1994 adaptation, and there are moments when the chances it takes aren’t altogether successful (it really bugs me that Jo wavers on her earlier rejection of Laurie toward the end, and as great as Florence Pugh is as Amy throughout the movie, there’s no way anyone can buy her as a 12-year-old in the younger scenes.) That said, there are other times when its approach really lands, and it creates some utterly-fabulous scenes. I really like the device of weaving in scenes of Jo/Alcott(?) with her publisher, negotiating over the price and the details of the story (like whether Jo ends up married or not,) and the nonlinear narrative really enhances the film at points, creating great moments of poignancy by juxtaposing the past and the present.

It’s no secret that one of the 2019 film’s biggest assets is its portrayal of Amy. Kirsten Dunst is wonderful in the 1994 version, but the older version with Samantha Mathis seems to pale a little after her, and she never quite feels like “our” Amy. Not so with Pugh in the new film, issues with age and believability aside. The film really breathes life and understanding into the older Amy, showing the connective tissue between the girl and the young woman as well as demonstrating the ways that Amy and Jo, always at each other’s throats, aren’t nearly as different as they might think. Amy laying out to Laurie the reasons that she plans to marry a rich man really contextualize her attitude for the world she lives in, much more reminiscent of Angelica Schuyler in “Satisfied” than the shallow/materialistic modern implications we tend to place on viewpoints like that. The film also does the story a major service of fully committing to the Amy/Laurie romance. It’s in part another gift of the nonlinear narrative, because we see Laurie and Amy in scenes together before we even see him meet Jo in the past, but on the whole, the new film does a much better job on selling me on these two than the 1994 movie. It does so, however, somewhat at the expense of Jo/Laurie, which never quite pops onscreen like it does in 1994.

A few other sentimental favorite aspects of mine from the 2019 adaptation. I’ve always loved Beth and Mr. Laurence together, and I really like how this movie emphasizes their gentle friendship – I think the scene of Jo and Mr. Laurence comforting one another after Beth’s death is probably the one that made me cry the hardest in the whole movie. Some of the added dialogue throughout the film is simply wonderful (the 1994 version does this well too,) my favorites being Jo and Amy’s debate about whether Jo’s book is worth reading and Jo and Meg’s conversation before Meg’s wedding. And finally, I just adore the absolute noise and chaos of so many of the sister scenes, all the chattering and laughing and mayhem. This is especially true when Laurie brings Jo and Meg home after the party and sees all the March girls in their element. There’s something so warm and inviting about their collective sisterly madness, and it’s clear from one look that Laurie is in love with it already.

Altogether, two very different adaptations, and while I’m not prepared to have the 1994 version unseated in any way, the new version takes some interesting chances and brings a lot of great stuff to the table as well. I’m glad to have both to appreciate in their own ways.