Review: Little Women (2019)

Little Women
Cert: U / 135 mins / Dir. Greta Gerwig / Trailer



Greta Gerwig, a celebrated, dedicated and ascending storyteller of note, seems to have used her not inconsiderable clout to assemble what can only be described as A Dream Cast*¹, and then used that pooled talent to craft the kind of twee, perfunctory, relentlessly-soundtracked costume drama which could have been knocked out by any TV director. So well done, I guess.

Now admittedly I am not in the target demographic for this, I haven't read Little Women or seen any of the fifteen previous screen adaptations, but I don't feel particularly enlightened for having been introduced to the story now. I can see what Gerwig has added structurally in her rendition, and while that's an interesting play I just couldn't find anything within the story itself to engage me. I don't believe in 'girl films' and 'boy films', just stories worth telling and worth telling well. This is characters shrieking over one another for two-and-a-quarter hours while I play Hunt The Redeeming Feature.

Is this a test?
Because if so, I'll be happy to wear a badge saying 'I Failed'.

Oh, I don't know. Costume drama things, I suppose.
I mean I can see that it's a bit more than that, but it's definitely still similar to them.



Well if you're not bothered about the Skywalker family this December, the choice is between this, Cats and Playing With Fire. So good luck.



Sunday afternoon, wouldn't hurt.



It is not.



I imagine so.



There is not.



Level 1: Amilyn Holdo is in this.





*¹ Two things here, though. 1) Saorise Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson and Eliza Scanlen are all fantastic but do not, repeat not, look like sisters - am I to assume this is in some way intentional? 2) Despite him being 'a name' in 2019, I have only seen Timothée Chalamet in one thing, he was very good in it but I am now so fucking done with his shit it's not true, moping around the set with his pouting, winsome, simpering mannerisms like a haunted flannel soaked in Lambrini and regret. There, I said it.
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