Little Women (1994)
Jun. 9th, 2022 03:16 pmBack on my bullshit watching all the Hollywood adaptations of Little Women! Distressed to inform you that I apparently never reviewed the 1933 Katherine Hepburn Little Women, which is unfortunate, as that is the main point of reference to which I intended to compare the 1994 Winona Ryder version.
In particular, it’s interesting that the 1933 version leans way harder on the Jo the tomboy characterization than 1994. Possibly this says something about the complicated development of gender roles over the twentieth century, but it’s also possible that it just comes down to the different energy the actresses brought to the part. Hepburn was BORN to play rowdy tomboy Jo, whereas Ryder comes across as more of a gamine.
This version also HELLA ships Jo/Laurie. Christian Bale plays Laurie with an adorable goofy energy that is an amazing foil for Jo’s silly sense of humor; the screen lights up whenever they’re together. However, for all that the movie ships Jo/Laurie, they are clearly doing their best by Professor Bhaer. He is old enough to be her father, but if you follow the book, that’s inevitable (not everyone has heard the gospel of Hot Young Professor Bhaer); and he’s kind-hearted and thoughtful, and criticizes her writing mainly because he feels that she’s capable of work better than the derivative stories she’s currently writing.
There’s an interesting parallel here between Jo & Laurie & Amy: Laurie comments that both he and Amy are making second-rate copies of others’ work, similar to Jo’s derivative stories at this point. The difference is that Jo keeps writing and finds her own voice, whereas Laurie and Amy both quit when the going gets tough.
(On the art theme, there’s also an interesting moment where Laurie complains that Jo can scribble all day if she wants, where he’s supposed to chuck his music in favor of business, and Jo points out that society is not all that thrilled about women writers… It’s interesting to reflect that in 19th century America, art isn’t really an appropriately gendered activity for either men or women; hence the recurring image of artists as “long-haired men and short-haired women.”)
Given the Jo/Laurie angle, you might imagine the film would have a down on Amy, but actually its portrayal is sympathetic (particularly young Amy, played by Kirsten Dunst; you don’t cast Kirsten Dunst if you want audiences to dislike a character). The 1933 and 1949 films are both basically Jo’s story; the 1994 version is more interested in the sisters as a group. In particular, it’s the first film to include the scene where Amy burns Jo’s book, nearly prompting a lasting rift until Amy falls through the ice and Jo saves her.
However, the fiery passion with which the filmmakers ship Jo/Laurie does mean that they don’t really sell Amy/Laurie. The actress cast for grown-up Amy is very mannered, and in the scenes where he interacts with her, Laurie seems stiff, too. This has to be intentional - he’s essentially playing the part of a fop, trying to bury his broken heart beneath silly flirtations - but the stiffness doesn’t sell them as a happy couple.
Not least because it’s coupled with a speech by Laurie about how he’s always known he’s meant to be part of the March family, suggesting that he would marry any available March girl if he can’t have Jo! He walks this back later - at least, he SAYS that he’s interested in Amy, not her family - but is he? Is he REALLY. Are we 100% convinced he wouldn’t kill off John Brooke and marry Meg if no other March girl were available?
(Speaking of John Brooke, this movie just takes the poor man apart. He’s so dippy! Walking home with Meg all “I don’t approve of women in the theater!” He comes across as extraordinarily priggish and it’s impossible to see what Meg sees in him.)
When![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
littlerhymes and I were reading Little Women, littlerhymes suggested that what Jo and Laurie REALLY needed was a twenty-first century style courtship: they both go off to college and spend their twenties meeting other people and doing other things, and when they are about thirty they meet again and realize that they have grown up enough that they actually could make it work at this point.
This, at any rate, is absolutely the energy that Winona Ryder and Christian Bale bring to these parts. In fact, they may not have needed to wait till they're thirty: Jo’s heart is already changing by the end of the movie. After Beth dies, Jo writes to Laurie, saying (in voiceover) “Come home to us”; but, significantly, that’s not what the letter on the screen says. It says, “Come home to me.”
You wonder if they changed the voiceover after realizing it would be Just Too Tragic to have Laurie come home married to Amy after Jo sends him a letter asking him to come back to her. The film puts enough effort into establishing Jo and Professor Bhaer’s compatibility that you feel they may be happy even if he was her second choice; but you have to wonder if Laurie and Amy won’t be kicking themselves in a year.
In particular, it’s interesting that the 1933 version leans way harder on the Jo the tomboy characterization than 1994. Possibly this says something about the complicated development of gender roles over the twentieth century, but it’s also possible that it just comes down to the different energy the actresses brought to the part. Hepburn was BORN to play rowdy tomboy Jo, whereas Ryder comes across as more of a gamine.
This version also HELLA ships Jo/Laurie. Christian Bale plays Laurie with an adorable goofy energy that is an amazing foil for Jo’s silly sense of humor; the screen lights up whenever they’re together. However, for all that the movie ships Jo/Laurie, they are clearly doing their best by Professor Bhaer. He is old enough to be her father, but if you follow the book, that’s inevitable (not everyone has heard the gospel of Hot Young Professor Bhaer); and he’s kind-hearted and thoughtful, and criticizes her writing mainly because he feels that she’s capable of work better than the derivative stories she’s currently writing.
There’s an interesting parallel here between Jo & Laurie & Amy: Laurie comments that both he and Amy are making second-rate copies of others’ work, similar to Jo’s derivative stories at this point. The difference is that Jo keeps writing and finds her own voice, whereas Laurie and Amy both quit when the going gets tough.
(On the art theme, there’s also an interesting moment where Laurie complains that Jo can scribble all day if she wants, where he’s supposed to chuck his music in favor of business, and Jo points out that society is not all that thrilled about women writers… It’s interesting to reflect that in 19th century America, art isn’t really an appropriately gendered activity for either men or women; hence the recurring image of artists as “long-haired men and short-haired women.”)
Given the Jo/Laurie angle, you might imagine the film would have a down on Amy, but actually its portrayal is sympathetic (particularly young Amy, played by Kirsten Dunst; you don’t cast Kirsten Dunst if you want audiences to dislike a character). The 1933 and 1949 films are both basically Jo’s story; the 1994 version is more interested in the sisters as a group. In particular, it’s the first film to include the scene where Amy burns Jo’s book, nearly prompting a lasting rift until Amy falls through the ice and Jo saves her.
However, the fiery passion with which the filmmakers ship Jo/Laurie does mean that they don’t really sell Amy/Laurie. The actress cast for grown-up Amy is very mannered, and in the scenes where he interacts with her, Laurie seems stiff, too. This has to be intentional - he’s essentially playing the part of a fop, trying to bury his broken heart beneath silly flirtations - but the stiffness doesn’t sell them as a happy couple.
Not least because it’s coupled with a speech by Laurie about how he’s always known he’s meant to be part of the March family, suggesting that he would marry any available March girl if he can’t have Jo! He walks this back later - at least, he SAYS that he’s interested in Amy, not her family - but is he? Is he REALLY. Are we 100% convinced he wouldn’t kill off John Brooke and marry Meg if no other March girl were available?
(Speaking of John Brooke, this movie just takes the poor man apart. He’s so dippy! Walking home with Meg all “I don’t approve of women in the theater!” He comes across as extraordinarily priggish and it’s impossible to see what Meg sees in him.)
When
littlerhymes and I were reading Little Women, littlerhymes suggested that what Jo and Laurie REALLY needed was a twenty-first century style courtship: they both go off to college and spend their twenties meeting other people and doing other things, and when they are about thirty they meet again and realize that they have grown up enough that they actually could make it work at this point. This, at any rate, is absolutely the energy that Winona Ryder and Christian Bale bring to these parts. In fact, they may not have needed to wait till they're thirty: Jo’s heart is already changing by the end of the movie. After Beth dies, Jo writes to Laurie, saying (in voiceover) “Come home to us”; but, significantly, that’s not what the letter on the screen says. It says, “Come home to me.”
You wonder if they changed the voiceover after realizing it would be Just Too Tragic to have Laurie come home married to Amy after Jo sends him a letter asking him to come back to her. The film puts enough effort into establishing Jo and Professor Bhaer’s compatibility that you feel they may be happy even if he was her second choice; but you have to wonder if Laurie and Amy won’t be kicking themselves in a year.
