Comfortingly faithful to the message of the novel, with a little extra bite.
I flatter myself that I am fairly familiar with Louisa May Alcott’s wonderful Little Women – I’ve read it many times, and have seen every film adaptation (of which the 1949 version is of course the best). While I love the story of the four March sisters growing up together during the American Civil War, a criticism – if I must have one – would be that the characters can all too easily tip over into Pollyanna territory, being interminably good and noble in the face of adversity. To my delight, Anne-Marie Casey’s adaptation of the novel, directed by Loveday Ingram and currently showing at the Liverpool Playhouse, does not fall prey to this.
These iterations of the March sisters – beautiful eldest Meg, tomboy writer Jo, sweet-natured pianist Beth, and headstrong artistic Amy, played by Jade Oswald, Natalie Dunne, Megan Richards, and Jewelle Hutchinson respectively – are flawed: proud, vain, inflexible, selfish. Adaptations of Little Women will often use the story’s small time jump to smooth out such traits – in their adulthood, the sisters become docile, gracious, stoic – but in this case that really only applies to Meg, a character arc which is believable, given her chosen life path. The other sisters, while older and in many ways more mature, still have flares of their childish tempers and airs and graces: even Beth, the renowned ‘good’ sister, bears her trials with an at times angry and bitter resignation, masterfully showcased by Megan Richards in her stage debut.
While we lose or amalgamate some characters in this production (the elderly Mr. Lawrence does not feature, nor is Mr. March ever shown), its overall themes of self-possession, the importance of loving and of being loved, and living life as truly and as best as you can remain steadfast. This is true even while the show expands on or brings to the fore parts of the plot that are not often dwelled upon, perhaps as they are slightly less savoury: our charming boy next door Laurie (Perry Williams) is a drunken and layabout wreck for a time in Act 2, and Marmee (Juliet Aubrey), by all accounts an angel on earth in the novel, makes a speech about her ongoing battle with her bad temper throughout her life. It is this sort of humanising that really makes the most of the fantastic source material, letting us hope that if these characters, with all their flaws, can still strive to be good, maybe we can too.
The costumes are pitch-perfect: just the right side of plain, but in colour schemes that let the fresh-faced March sisters shine. Belinda Lang’s brilliantly comedic Aunt March sports a series of opulent gowns befitting a lady of her station, but they seem dark and dim compared to the simple palate of the other March ladies’ dresses. Small costume tweaks make big differences, from the flash of a scorch mark on the back of Jo’s dress shown when she tumbles comedically to the floor (movement being just one of Natalie Dunne’s fortes) to the adjustments to dresses and hairstyles that signify time passing and growth, both literal and figurative. The staging is deep and fascinating: tall, thin tree trunks stretch up out of the audience’s line of sight, feeling cosy and enclosing (bolstered by the recurring warmly-lit Christmas tree) or stark and lonely, depending on the lighting. The clever use of light and set pieces transforms the stage from the March family home to the bright lights of New York City, and even into a frozen lake; a dramatic accident which you’d be forgiven for thinking would be very hard to stage is vividly depicted by simple use of sound, lighting, and some precise physical movement from our actors.
Comfortingly faithful to the message of the novel, with a little extra bite, this show was a wonderful start to the festive season (if I can be forgiven for starting the celebrations in November). Little Women is showing at the Liverpool Playhouse until November 8th.