| Scene from Little Women (2019) |
If one was to talk about Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women" prior to the Greta Gerwig-directed adaptation, there would be one common refrain: Amy March is the worst March sister. This isn't up for debate. The internet is littered with articles claiming that the youngest sister was somehow a character not worthy of sympathy for a variety of reasons including (but not limited to) burning Jo's manuscript and stealing Laurie away from Jo. It's all a bit vindictive when looked at through Alcott's prose, but what Gerwig has done is something that no other adaptation has been able to do. Not only is it grappling with the themes of women being in charge of their own narrative, but it's also in some ways course-correcting the public conversation around the characters by contemporizing them, adding an emotional depth to the relationships that secretly make it bolder than even the equally beloved 1994 adaptation.
As much attention is once again thrown onto Jo, audiences have become enraptured with Amy this time around, and it's easy to see why. There is something to seeing her played with vulnerability the way that Florence Pugh has, giving layers to a role that's easy to write-off as flat and villainous. After all, she is in some ways piggybacking off of Jo's achievements. She is the least sympathetic role because of this. What Pugh does is add depth to the character by making her decisions not come from a place of malice, but sometimes out of a desire to be a great artist and never getting the respect she deserves. After all, Jo wants it too but thinks "it sounds crass when she says it." Already it's finding ways to take that comment and explore how the public has agreed with that statement, even when they really shouldn't.





