For some reason, probably general curmudgeonliness, I tried to resist Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. I failed.
Yes, the story is sentimental, but it’s about the importance of familial and romantic love — of kindness, honesty, and openheartedness. In this age, which is so defined by cruelty, being invited to pay attention to tenderness feels like a balm. And there’s so much warmth in director Barbara Tomasic’s production that embracing it is, well, irresistible.
In 1868 and 1869, Louisa May Alcott wrote the two novels that make up the story we now know collectively as Little Women. Alcott and her real-life sisters provided the template for the characters in these novels: like Alcott, Jo, the novels’ protagonist, is a writer, for instance. And, like Alcott, who enjoyed being called Lou, Jo goes by a traditionally male name, in defiance of gendered expectations. So, in this play, we get a double-barreled celebration of female independence and creativity.
Episodic in its structure, Little Women is a coming-of-age story that focuses on sisterly relationships — and husbands. Jo is dedicated to becoming “a spinster novelist”, so what is she to do with the deepening affection she shares with Laurie, the orphaned young man who lives nearby with his rich grandfather? Meg, who is regarded as the prettiest sister, is also the most gender compliant: will she obey when her parents tell her she’s too young to marry?
In the early going, Kate Besworth’s performance as Jo felt less than completely spontaneous to me: some line readings sounded overly thought-out. But Besworth settled into a charming performance that shows off her comic chops and emotional resourcefulness. Across from her, Conor Wylie delivers a quirkily effective portrait of Laurie. It feels like Wylie is channeling the character through his own eccentricities, rather than aiming for personal erasure. Whatever he’s doing, it works.
Elizabeth Barrett doesn’t lean into Meg’s vanity, which is sometimes emphasized, opting instead for romantic bafflement and, as always, her work is emotionally true. Kaitlyn Yott is hilarious as the bratty youngest sister Amy, and Ming Hudson is touchingly understated as the timid Beth.
It might be easy to forget how important Marmee (as the sisters call their mother) is to the story but, in her wry, grounded performance, Erin Ormond reminds us that Marmee provides the solid, feminist foundation upon which this family is built. In another set of grounded performances, most notably an academic named Dr. Bhaer, the multiply-cast Nick Fontaine rounds out the cast.
The heart of Jennifer Stewart’s set is appropriately elemental: a hearth, a set of stairs, and numerous set pieces that can be moved around. Stewart expands on this with her backdrop, a faded, elegantly rendered line drawing of foliage that looks like it might have been copied from nineteenth-century dinnerware.
Barbara Clayden’s costumes speak sympathetically to the period and the characters.
Is that it? Do I have nothing to complain about? Well, it is a little odd that, after championing female independence — including freedom from marriage — so strongly, the plot resolves in… happy marriages. But, if I’m being honest, even during my most intense period of fuck-the-patriarchy resistance, weddings reduced me to tears. Humans crave companionship, whether or not it involves romantic partnering. The key, of course, is choice, an argument Little Women makes clearly. And the script reminds us that Alcott herself never married.
So no. No, I have nothing substantial to complain about.
LOUISA MAY ALCOTT’S LITTLE WOMEN by Lauren M. Gunderson. Directed by Barbara Tomasic. An Arts Club Theatre production. On the Granville Island Stage until January 4. (Tickets and information)
PHOTO CREDIT: Clockwise from lower left: Ming Hudson, Kaitlyn Yott, Kate Besworth, Elizabeth Barrett, and Erin Ormand. (Set by Jennifer Stewart. Costumes by Barbara Clayden. Photo by Moonrider Productions)
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