LITTLE WOMEN is quite possibly the one book written post-Shakespeare that has the most number of film adaptations to its credit. Louisa May Alcott's novel, after all, offers a fine host of roles, particularly for women--of the March girls alone, there's the eldest sister Meg; the frail but saintly Beth; spoilt baby of the family Amy; and last but most certainly not least, spunky tomboy Jo. (This is not to forget the smaller, but still integral, supporting roles of Laurie, Mr Lawrence, Professor Bhaer, and of course, Marmee March.) The story is an engaging one too, following the lives of the March sisters--in particular Jo--as they grow and deal with change, with love, and even with death. Even though the story itself is tied to a particular setting in the 1860s (and even then the historical setting is almost peripheral), the characters and their relationships with one another--siblings, parent/children, friends and lovers--are simply timeless. That's probably why the novel has seen as many attempts to have it committed to film as it has.
I hate to make a snap judgement, having not seen any more versions of Little Women than the 1994 one, but I believe that this version, made by RKO studios and starring a delightful Katharine Hepburn as Jo March, has every right to be considered the definitive film version of the Alcott novel. The writing, for one thing, is exceptional. Although never quite the novel's substitute, it condenses the book marvellously, sketching the characters and relationships of the girls quickly and efficiently, and never skipping over the best parts of the book (for example, Laurie's profession of love for Jo). Of course the screenplay will never measure up to the book--it is rare that a film could surpass the wealth of detail and beauty of description available from the written word. But nothing's perfect, and this screenplay, by Sarah Y. Mason and Victor Heerman, is as close as an adaptation can get while retaining its own distinct flavour as a film.
As for the casting, I have very few complaints about it, since Hepburn--all angles and attitude, all loud-voiced and tomboyish--is perfect as Jo and is ably supported by Frances Dee as Meg, Henry Stephenson as the sweetly paternal Mr. Laurence and Douglass Montgomery as Laurie (though he plays the role a tad too fey for my liking). Special praise must be reserved for both Jean Parker (Beth March) and Paul Lukas (Professor Fritz Bhaer): Parker for bringing an impossibly sweet and lovely character to life, and making the audience genuinely grieve for Beth when she takes her leave of her family; Lukas for managing to avoid making Professor Bhaer a hard, frightening man with whom the audience simply cannot imagine Jo being in love (as is *my* impression from the book). I was rather disappointed with Joan Bennett as Amy, and that is of course partly attributable to the fact that the character isn't particularly sympathetic in the novel either, so it isn't really fair to expect a miracle from Bennett. Still, Bennett seemed to me to be the most lifeless of the sisters--one might think this an unfair judgement, since anyone acting opposite the powder keg that is Katharine Hepburn could easily be deemed lifeless if he or she weren't able to hold his/her own against her. Still, the arguably less well-known Frances Dee and Jean Parker had no problem with it.
In the final analysis though, there is no doubt that this film, however 'ensemble' the cast, belongs only to Hepburn. Her performance, although somewhat mannered and brassy at times (not necessarily simultaneously, thank goodness!), is nothing short of brilliant. She's sad, she's funny, she's touching, and as she does in her best roles, she transcends her own (pretty formidable!) character to breathe life into Jo as only she can. Witness the simple scene in which Jo breaks down, alone, at night, after having sold her hair for her mother's travel expenses... or the scene when Jo truly believes that scarlet fever is going to take Beth from her, and she trudges up into her own attic, the weight of the world on her shoulders, and collapses into tears. There is also nothing more charming than Hepburn as she gallops down the stairs in a frock which she burnt by leaning against the fireplace, or when she runs like a free, untamed spirit through the woods when chased by Laurie. Strange, sweet, funny Jo--this complex combination of jealous child and strong woman, stubbornly refusing to relinquish the familiar while adamantly placing her family above her own interests always... it really is a role that seems to have been written for Hepburn, just as she seems to have been born to play it. It is perhaps for LITTLE WOMEN as much as for MORNING GLORY (released in the same year) that Hepburn won her first Oscar in 1933. Nobody photographs Hepburn as flatteringly as her good friend and director George Cukor either, so some of the close-up shots of her in LITTLE WOMEN are simply breathtaking in having managed to capture her beauty, her youth and her personality all at once.
Nothing about this film is perfect; after all, perfection is too high a standard to be applied to adaptations (and most other films!). But LITTLE WOMEN really does have a little something to offer everybody--a sweet, timeless story about love and growing up and family. It's something that everyone can relate to, and that's probably more than enough.
I hate to make a snap judgement, having not seen any more versions of Little Women than the 1994 one, but I believe that this version, made by RKO studios and starring a delightful Katharine Hepburn as Jo March, has every right to be considered the definitive film version of the Alcott novel. The writing, for one thing, is exceptional. Although never quite the novel's substitute, it condenses the book marvellously, sketching the characters and relationships of the girls quickly and efficiently, and never skipping over the best parts of the book (for example, Laurie's profession of love for Jo). Of course the screenplay will never measure up to the book--it is rare that a film could surpass the wealth of detail and beauty of description available from the written word. But nothing's perfect, and this screenplay, by Sarah Y. Mason and Victor Heerman, is as close as an adaptation can get while retaining its own distinct flavour as a film.
As for the casting, I have very few complaints about it, since Hepburn--all angles and attitude, all loud-voiced and tomboyish--is perfect as Jo and is ably supported by Frances Dee as Meg, Henry Stephenson as the sweetly paternal Mr. Laurence and Douglass Montgomery as Laurie (though he plays the role a tad too fey for my liking). Special praise must be reserved for both Jean Parker (Beth March) and Paul Lukas (Professor Fritz Bhaer): Parker for bringing an impossibly sweet and lovely character to life, and making the audience genuinely grieve for Beth when she takes her leave of her family; Lukas for managing to avoid making Professor Bhaer a hard, frightening man with whom the audience simply cannot imagine Jo being in love (as is *my* impression from the book). I was rather disappointed with Joan Bennett as Amy, and that is of course partly attributable to the fact that the character isn't particularly sympathetic in the novel either, so it isn't really fair to expect a miracle from Bennett. Still, Bennett seemed to me to be the most lifeless of the sisters--one might think this an unfair judgement, since anyone acting opposite the powder keg that is Katharine Hepburn could easily be deemed lifeless if he or she weren't able to hold his/her own against her. Still, the arguably less well-known Frances Dee and Jean Parker had no problem with it.
In the final analysis though, there is no doubt that this film, however 'ensemble' the cast, belongs only to Hepburn. Her performance, although somewhat mannered and brassy at times (not necessarily simultaneously, thank goodness!), is nothing short of brilliant. She's sad, she's funny, she's touching, and as she does in her best roles, she transcends her own (pretty formidable!) character to breathe life into Jo as only she can. Witness the simple scene in which Jo breaks down, alone, at night, after having sold her hair for her mother's travel expenses... or the scene when Jo truly believes that scarlet fever is going to take Beth from her, and she trudges up into her own attic, the weight of the world on her shoulders, and collapses into tears. There is also nothing more charming than Hepburn as she gallops down the stairs in a frock which she burnt by leaning against the fireplace, or when she runs like a free, untamed spirit through the woods when chased by Laurie. Strange, sweet, funny Jo--this complex combination of jealous child and strong woman, stubbornly refusing to relinquish the familiar while adamantly placing her family above her own interests always... it really is a role that seems to have been written for Hepburn, just as she seems to have been born to play it. It is perhaps for LITTLE WOMEN as much as for MORNING GLORY (released in the same year) that Hepburn won her first Oscar in 1933. Nobody photographs Hepburn as flatteringly as her good friend and director George Cukor either, so some of the close-up shots of her in LITTLE WOMEN are simply breathtaking in having managed to capture her beauty, her youth and her personality all at once.
Nothing about this film is perfect; after all, perfection is too high a standard to be applied to adaptations (and most other films!). But LITTLE WOMEN really does have a little something to offer everybody--a sweet, timeless story about love and growing up and family. It's something that everyone can relate to, and that's probably more than enough.