The film tells of the four rather impossibly honourable March sisters and their somewhat unbelievably wise Marmee (a dubious moniker if I ever heard one). At face value, it is not hard to see why most people would have been hard pushed to even want to watch the film - you have got to be in the right mood to see this. But if you are, the experience is well worth it. For Swicord has fashioned a script that is at once engaging and involving, and director Gillian Armstrong (the highly praised Australian, who unfortunately is also responsible for a very awful film entitled Fires Within) has managed to coax some very moving and convincing performances from her talented cast, and she manages to juxtapose the sweet sentimentality of the tale with a firm, more currently relevant backbone.

At the core of the film lies wild, impetuous Jo (Winona Ryder); the second eldest of the siblings, she is the one with dreams of independence, blessed with a keen and intelligent mind. Through her eyes, the clarity with which she sees and observes the ones she loves around her, the audience is given a clearer picture of the March family. The eldest sister, Meg (Andie MacDowell look-a-like, Trini Alvarado), is the most traditional of the lot, with conservative, somewhat archaic views, ever willing to play the maidenly damsel to her paramour, and later husband, John Brooke (Eric Stoltz in a "sort of" cameo role). Beth (the smashing Claire Danes), the third child, is a quiet and timorous homebody with whom Jo shares her closest bond, and who serves as Jo's greatest inspiration. The youngest, Amy (played at first by Kirsten Dunst, then later by Samantha Mathis), is the romantic with an iron will and an insightful mind. And there's also Marmee (Susan Sarandon), their calm and noble mother, who holds the family together as their father is away at war. Rounding off the main cast are the two men in Jo's life: Laurie (a charming Christian Bale), the childhood friend whose heart she breaks, and the mature Friedrich (a suitably mature Gabriel Byrne), with whom Jo eventually marries.

Through a series of domestic trivialities [burnt hair dramas, luxurious breakfasts, weddings, births, illnesses and death] to somewhat weightier issues [women's emancipation, individual integrity, the civil war], the buoyant script steadfastly chugs along to the film's satisfying conclusion. The dialogue is rich (if a little odd; people say things like "Oh, glorious food!" - ?) and rolls off convincingly from the actors' tongues. The film is also amply aided by a deeply moving and mood enhancing great score (my personal favourite is a piece entitled "Spring") which resonates with subtle meanderings that mirror the emotional upheavals on screen. This film is a triumphant winner in every department, quite against some very major odds.

Sarandon is probably the only woman who could take on the role of Marmee and still emerge with a sense of professional dignity, not to mention career, intact. In the book, her character is so insufferably stoic and noble, you sometimes want to shake her hard and tell her to wake up to the realities of the war ("Your husband's fighting a war and you've got four daughters to bring up singlehandedly! You need therapy!!). But through Swicord's pen and Sarandon's interpretation, the character is now more tempered and convincing as a struggling single parent who seeks to instil basic common decency in her children. Unfortunately, she is still saddled with dialogue that reads more like campaign slogans than how a normal person would ever speak - every time she opens her mouth, a shining pearl of wisdom departs, illuminating the minds of the audience. Thus, it is much to Sarandon's credit that she somehow manages to compensate for this and make the character likeable and even a little real.

As Meg, Trini Alvarado (previously in Stella with Bette Midler), lends good support. The role is the least complex of the lot, with Meg an old fashioned lass who's just a little bit of a stick in the mud, always concerned with the current mores and etiquette. Alvarado redeems her character by displaying a sense of warmth that engages you. As her husband, the awful tutor John Brooke, Stoltz is called upon to be a little supercilious and a little in awe of his wife and her family - it is rare to find the actor in such a light role (his debut was in Mask, and he's been in Rob Roy, Bodies, Rest and Motion, The Waterdance; all heavy going dramas), and he seems to enjoy it, making the most of the small part.

As Beth, Danes, star of the much praised, but now cancelled TV series My So-Called Life, is a rare find. At once vulnerable and yet so alive, the actress shapes the thankless task of being the sister who dies, into a sympathetic, but not irritating nor spineless, character. For once, Beth's demise is not overwrought, over-acted or overly weepy. Instead, Danes makes the inner strength which was the link between Beth and Jo, come alive at the pivotal scene where Jo witnesses her beloved sister's demise. Her death scene is quiet, understated and is one of the most beautiful pieces of acting I've seen recently.

Casting falters a little in the casting of Amy. Though Dunst (the very frightening child from Interview with a Vampire) is just the right mix of impish romanticism and naivete, Mathis (best known for Pump Up the Volume and being the last girlfriend of River Phoenix) tends to speak her lines as if reciting through a haze of old world romance which makes her a little unconvincing - she sometimes looks half asleep. But Dunst continues to display great promise and gets many of the best lines in the film - hopefully she doesn't do a Drew Barrymore on us; hers would be an interesting career to watch.

Byrne (Siesta and numerous other bombs which always showcased good acting on his part nonetheless) lends solid support as the older, poorer and intellectually equal suitor who eventually wins Jo's heart. It is an easy role for such an accomplished actor; his saddened eyes will win over the audience eventually.

As the younger, brasher and morally ambivalent Laurie, Bale (best remembered for his debut in Empire of the Sun) shines in a role that could easily have been dislikeable. It makes this reviewer feel extremely old to realise that the actor is actually old enough to break hearts now - what happened in between Empire and now? Whither now our youth? Whatever. Bale effortlessly charms as the lonely boy with a burning desire to be a part of the March family. It is also an example of very subtle acting on Bale's part as he perseveres in retaining a sense of righteousness for his character; for even when Laurie runs to Paris after being rejected by Jo and treats Amy in a cynical and cruel manner, we are never allowed to feel as if he is anything but a hurting gentleman. It is unfortunate for us, the audience, that the actor does not work more often.

Ryder, in her best costume-era turn to date, garnered an Academy Award nomination for this role. Her Jo begins as an innocent, if determined, young tomboy with a wild hellion streak, idealistic about the world in which she resides. Slowly, as the film progresses, she matures into a thoughtful, though no less idealistic, young lady, eventually an accomplished woman in her own right. Through all these tricky transitions, Ryder shines as she brings her own brand of girlishness and understated strength to the part. Her Jo is at once endearing, fallible and believable. However, try as they might, they could not quite make Ryder ugly enough (in the book she is the most aesthetically challenged of the sisters). Suffice to say that this is a definite improvement over her turn as May Welland in Scorcese's The Age of Innocence (for which she also got a nod from Oscar), where her simpering smile was a little hard to swallow, although appropriate for the role. It is good to see a young actress maturing so well.

The film is a sumptuous celebration of family, love and friendship. Barring some dubious casting (most notably of Mathis), it is almost perfect. However, I have one great contention: the on-screen chemistry between Ryder and Bale is so palpable and effective that one cannot help but feel more for Laurie's crushing agony than for Jo's happiness when she finally lands her man in the form of Friedrich. Although the audience realises that it is terribly important that she does not end up with the rich and beautiful Laurie, we cannot help but feel a little churlish toward her German professor, even right up to the very end.

Whatever it is, though, Little Women is an instant classic: as a film that dares to be honest, upright and decent, and which strives so very earnestly to be so, it is an overwhelming success. We can only hope for more.

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© Copyright 1997. If you've got anything to add, write me at terrybrogan@hotmail.com. Or don't. Whatever.