Remakes & Reboots: Little Women (1994) vs. Little Women (2019)

Hollywood has long had a love affair with adapting classic literature throughout the decades. It usually has more to do with the industry’s aversion to creating anything original. Yet, it’s fun to see how different filmmakers interpret many of these acclaimed properties that have stood the test of time. Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet immediately springs to mind, from Franco Zeffirelli’s traditional 1968 take to the 1996 modern-day psychedelic interpretation from Baz Luhrmann. And the tragic star-crossed romance was reinterpreted in the Broadway musical West Side Story.

In addition to Shakespeare, Hollywood has enjoyed adapting Jane Austen’s works for the screen. There have been many lush variations of Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Sense and Sensibility, ranging from big-budget fare to smaller-scale BBC miniseries. Not to mention the popular 1995 teen hit Clueless being a loose adaption of Emma. And Pride & Prejudice has inspired everything from Bridget Jones’s Diary with Renee Zellweger, the gay romance Fire Island and (ahem) Pride & Prejudice and Zombies for all you horror Austen fans.

American writer Louisa May Alcott has often been compared to Austen, although they are stylistically very different. Alcott shot to fame in 1868 with her two-volume novel Little Women, the coming-of-age tale of Jo March and her three sisters in Civil War-era Concord. The heartfelt and feminist-tinged story became an American classic with its episodic, slice-of-life storytelling. And Little Women, much like Austen’s masterworks, has been through the Hollywood machine many times over, with a screen version every other decade, almost a dozen TV iterations, and even a splashy Broadway musical.

I’ve long been a fan of Little Women, as the novel brilliantly chronicles the writer’s journey through Jo March, a character that has inspired many writers like myself. And for me, the two most recent film adaptions capture the novel’s spirit, although they offer very different viewing experiences. Think of Little Women as a warm cup of hot chocolate. The 1994 version starring Winona Ryder is the traditional mug filled with marshmallows by the fireside. While the Greta Gerwig-directed 2019 adaption, starring Saoirse Ronan, is that same mug spiked with a dash of spiced rum.

So, let’s travel to 1860’s Concord, Massachusetts, where Jo March puts pen to paper, telling the tale of Marmee and her “little women” as they survive the specter of the Civil War.

Little Women (1994)

Chad’s Grade: A-

It’s hard to believe, but the 1994 Little Women was the first female-led film adaption, with director Gillian Armstrong, screenwriter Robin Swicord, and producer Denise Di Novi all guiding this iteration of the beloved novel. The project was initially developed as a vehicle for Winona Ryder, who, during the 1990s, was in her Gen-X ingenue prime. In 1994, Ryder was on a hot streak, earning a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for The Age of Innocence and headlining the generation x defining Reality Bites. And she capped off her big year with Little Women by earning another Oscar nomination, cementing her as one of the decade’s brightest stars.

Split into two sections, Little Women follows the March sisters, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, as they adjust to a life of near poverty brought on by the rationing during the Civil War. With their father off fighting on the battlefield, they are guided by their beloved mother, Marmee, as they navigate various coming-of-age tribulations. Many of the girls have creative aspirations, like Beth with her piano playing and Amy enjoying painting. But it’s Jo March who has the most ambitions with her writing, crafting wild, adventurous stories and plays that the girls perform in their attic. 

The second section jumps ahead as the girls must adjust to the challenges of adulthood following the war’s end. Much of this part focuses on Jo as she tries to figure out her complicated feelings for her best friend Laurie, the wealthy neighbor the girls adopted as a brother figure. Pushing against the constraints of traditional womanhood, Jo moves to New York to pursue her writing, finding her superficial stories challenged by the handsome Professor Frederick Bhaer. With the tragic death of her sister Beth, Jo begins to write honest, meaningful work inspired by her sisters and abandoning the shallow, gore-filled adventures from her childhood.

If you have never read the Little Women novel, the 1994 version is the perfect introduction to the March family. The filmmakers do an exceptional job hitting all the major story beats with near-perfect pacing, notably the transition from the first to second “volume” sections. Australian director Gillian Armstrong really shines here, giving the production a rich, handsome look that enhances the natural chemistry of her actors. And the family-friendly PG rating makes this ideal viewing for children of all ages.

As Jo March, Ryder gives a wonderfully nuanced performance, fully earning her Best Actress Oscar nomination. Where other actresses play up the plucky tomboy elements, Ryder has a softer touch, highlighting Jo’s awkward and introspective nature. Ryder is matched by a young Christian Bale as Laurie in one of his first adult roles. This is still my favorite version of the character, as Bale brings an earnest tone to the playful Laurie that compliments Ryder’s quieter Jo. And they share fantastic chemistry in the film’s best scene when Jo turns down Laurie’s marriage proposal. Both actors bring devastating emotions to the realization that their relationship is platonic and not romantic.

The rest of the cast is filled with reliable veterans and young actors who would grow into major stars. A young Kirsten Dunst makes for a feisty and spirited Amy, proving that she was a child star to watch following her audacious turn in Interview with a Vampire. Claire Danes strikes a quiet tone for the shy Beth, and her death scene is the film at its most heartbreaking. Susan Sarandon brings a heavy dose of wise feminism to the matriarchal Marmee. And the film’s most daring casting choice was Gabriel Byrne as Fredrich Bhaer, highlighting the May/December nature of his romance with Jo.

The 1994 version also blends several details of Alcott’s personal history into the narrative. Little Women was always heavily autobiographical, based on the author’s real-life relationship with her sisters. The film was the first to touch on the Alcott family’s embrace of the philosophical movement Transcendentalism, a belief in spirituality, nature, and idealism over scientific thinking based on material things. This is highlighted in Jo’s many romantic scenes with Frederick as they bond over authors like Henry David Thoreau and Walt Whitman, who were practitioners of the new age style belief. And director Armstrong mixes in the Transcendent emphasis on nature with many visual flourishes, like Hannah dropping rose petals over the girl’s dolls after the death of Beth. This gives the film an almost meta feel, inspired by the meta style of the classic novel.

I do have minor quibbles with this version. The movie’s focus on Ryder’s Jo resulted in sacrificing screen time with the other sisters, notably Beth’s visits to play Mr. Laurence’s grand piano. Also, elder sister Meg vanishes halfway through the film once she marries John Brooke. And Samantha Mathis is a bland adult Amy, losing all the sass that Kirsten Dunst brought to the younger incarnation.

Little Women opened during Christmas 1994 and became a critical hit while performing relatively well at the box office. It’s an adaption that has aged beautifully, featuring many future stars in their prime. Also, the movie is filled with winter wonderlands and Christmas imagery, making this a great holiday watch for the whole family.

Many, like myself, thought Hollywood had its definitive adaption to the beloved Alcott novel. That is until writer/director Greta Gerwig decided to do a bold remake 25 years later.

Little Women (2019)

Chad’s Grade: A

It was a surprise when director Greta Gerwig announced she was writing an updated take on Little Women, teaming with producers Denise Di Novi and Robin Swicord, both of whom worked on the 1994 version. This would be Gerwig’s second shot at directing after earning a Best Directing Oscar nomination for the acclaimed indie Lady Bird. Despite being armed with a big budget and an all-star cast, Hollywood was skeptical. Did the world need another remake of the classic tale about the March sisters, a novel with dozens and dozens of adaptations? 

The answer is yes, as this remake emphasizes the adult versions of our heroines. And director Gerwig leans into the meta nature of the novel, blending author Alcott’s lesser-known works into the narrative. She also employs a nonlinear structure, where the film starts with the sisters as adults, then flashbacks to the classic childhood stories from the book’s first volume. This creates a fascinating deconstructionist element, with the movie playing like a conversation between director Gerwig and author Alcott. One can sense that Gerwig brings her more modern voice during the “adult” sections but still honors the classic novel with the “childhood” flashbacks.

There’s no need to rehash the plot as the core story elements are the same, filtered through the screenplay’s more cinematic structure. One of the joys of watching this version is seeing the same scenes from earlier adaptions and comparing them with Gerwig’s unique take. For instance, the first meeting of Jo and Laurie at the dance party is more spirited and playful versus the 1994 film’s portrayal of two shy, awkward souls connecting. Or when Jo weeps over her sheared hair, which plays the same, a comic beat that needs no updating.

This version also plays like an ensemble, with all the sisters receiving near-equal screen time while keeping Jo as the central figure. In particular, Amy, the beautiful sister who manages to snatch Laurie from Jo, gets a fresh coat of paint. This new incarnation plays her less like a superficial drama queen but frustrated by living in her more talented sister’s shadow, wanting her painting to be “great” or not do it all. And the low-key Beth is more fully developed, especially in her sweet relationship with the senior Mr. Laurence as she plays his grand piano.

I wish that Gerwig had cast more Americans for this adaption of classic American literature. Nonetheless, Irish actress Saoirse Ronan is a splendid Jo, inhabiting a rebellious and tomboyish portrayal. This woman proudly rejects the restraints of her sex but is unprepared for the isolation that may entail. I also enjoyed Laura Dern as a warm and grounded Marmee, and Meryl Streep makes for a biting and scene-stealing Aunt March. There’s just a wealth of riches with Chris Cooper, Bob Odenkirk, Emma Watson, and Eliza Scanlen all doing strong work in their various roles.

But it’s Florence Pugh who lights up the screen with her complex version of Amy, earning a well-deserved Oscar nomination. Her monologue on how marriage is an economic proposition for a woman in the 1800s, a choice that will define her quality of life, is a showstopper. She’s less of a superficial gold digger and more of a young girl wise to how the world works. Pugh convincingly plays Amy from a tween girl to young woman, no split casting required. And she helps sell the romance with Laurie later in the film with an uneven Timothee Chalamet. As Laurie, Chalamet is wonderfully boyish in the flashbacks, but he never convincingly ages older during the character’s courtship with Amy, causing a strange romantic chemistry.

Gerwig proves she is a talent to watch in her sophomore directing effort as she confidently shapes this large production. The beautiful costumes and production design have a tactile and lived-in feel, eschewing the typical period gloss of other historical set films. She allows her actors to form a natural chemistry, particularly the sisters who fight, play, and tease as most siblings do during their teenage years. The director’s camera capture many visually striking shots, like Jo running through the crowded New York streets with ambitious joy after she’s sold her first story. Or the sickly Beth embracing her sister among the beach’s swirling sand as Jo vows to keep the tide of death at bay. And Gerwig isn’t afraid to embrace the more complex themes found in Alcott’s masterpiece, crafting a layered interpretation of the classic novel.

This is apparent in Gerwig’s bold choice to imbue Jo March with a subtle gender-queer theme. Alcott famously never married in real life, and Gerwig underscores this fact during the many scenes of Jo’s dealings with a curmudgeonly magazine publisher. As Jo negotiates the percentages of her “little women” book in the film’s bold meta-twist finale, she promises the editor a happy life of matrimony for the story’s main heroine. This is intercut with the novel’s swooning romantic chapter of Jo chasing Frederick (played by dashing French actor Louis Garrel) as she admits her love under an umbrella of rain. Here Gerwig beautifully splits the difference with a fresh modern spin that Alcott was never allowed to tell but still gives fans of the novel Jo March’s traditional emotional ending. Which version is the truth? Gerwig never shows her hand, letting the audience decide for themselves.

My only negative criticism is that the flashback structure can confuse those unfamiliar with the source material, as Gerwig never establishes a visual language for the different time frames. I’ve read the book many times, and even I paused in confusion during certain moments in the film.

The 2019 Little Women was a big commercial and critical hit during the lucrative holiday season, grossing an impressive $108 million domestically. The movie also earned six Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, but Gerwig was criminally not nominated for Best Director, a major oversight. While many were skeptical of another adaption of the classic Alcott novel, this Little Women managed to carve out its own identity. It now sits on my shelf proudly next to the 1994 version, and I love both equally.

In Conclusion:

I always get irked when Little Women is considered a “girl’s” story, especially when the film adaptions are labeled “chick flicks.” While both the novel and many movies do focus on the March sisters, at its heart, this is a story of a writer finding their voice and how they view the world through the written word. Little Women is required reading for anyone who wants to pursue writing, male or female.

The two most recent film versions are highly recommended. It’s fascinating as both are so stylistically different from one another, offering different viewing experiences although they are telling the same story. The 1994 version is a traditional and engrossing celebration of the beloved novel that’s perfect viewing for all ages. While the more complex 2019 incarnation highlights the meta nature of Alcott’s narrative, forming a feminist conversation between modern filmmaker and classic author.