Louisa May Alcott’s beloved novel has been fortunate in its screen adaptations, and this one, adapted and directed by actress Greta Gerwig, is one of the best. It captures the spirit of the work with grace, affection and great good humor, while managing to be both touching and a mite daring. The 'daring' aspect arises from Gerwig’s decision to tell the familiar story of would-be writer Jo March (Saoirse Ronan), her three sisters—down-to-earth Meg (Emma Watson), musically-inclined Beth (Eliza Scanlen) and precocious Amy (Florence Pugh)—and their devoted mother Marmee (Laura Dern) not in straightforward chronological order, but via shifting time frames. The device might have had a disorienting effect were her script less skillful. As it is, she manages to tie the various threads together so that nothing is lost and the emotional high points stand out all the more strongly. Gerwig also emphasizes the connection between Jo, the aspiring author who brings her sensationalist stories to the brusque publisher Dashwood (Tracy Letts), and Alcott herself: the semi-autobiographical element of the narrative has rarely been so effectively conveyed, even as the core of the story remains. Awaiting the return of their ill paterfamilias (Bob Odenkirk) from the Civil War, the March women must fend for themselves. Not that they are entirely alone on their Concord homestead: their wealthy neighbor, the widower Mr. Laurence (Chris Cooper), consistently shows the family his support, and his grandson Theodore (Timothée Chalamet), affectionately called Laurie, becomes an integral part of the family unit and suitor to Jo, though—as quickly becomes clear—not precisely a welcome one as far as the independent girl is concerned. There is also formidable Aunt March (Meryl Streep), the rich old lady intent on securing financially sound marriages for her nieces. For the most part, of course, the young women ignore her advice, choosing to wed for love. Little Women has always had an underlying feminist slant, of course, but Gerwig brings it to the fore, and Ronan, with her feisty performance, italicizes it. She and the other actresses dominate the proceedings, with the males—including Louis Garrel as Jo’s mentor, the learned Friedrich Bhaer—receding into the background. The one exception is Chalamet, who embodies Laurie so completely, yet so unconventionally, that he very nearly steals the film. Gerwig’s adaptation also scores in visual terms, capturing the mid-nineteenth century setting with seeming effortlessness. Some might ask whether we needed another version of Alcott’s book. The answer is that perhaps every generation deserves a retelling suitable to its own time—and if so, Gerwig’s does the present age proud. Highly recommended. (F. Swietek)