Lauren Gunderson's new adaptation of the classic novel runs through Dec. 21.
I had forgotten that Little Women opens at Christmas until I started rereading the book in anticipation of Portland Center Stage's production of Lauren M. Gunderson's new adaptation: Louisa May Alcott'S LITTLE WOMEN, a co-production with Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park.
For those whose memory needs refreshing: Little Women follows the four March sisters – Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy – through their coming of age during and after the Civil War. Under the guidance of their mother, Marmee, they navigate love, loss, poverty, and the pursuit of their ambitions in a world with narrow expectations for women.
Gunderson's adaptation draws not only from the novel but from Alcott's letters, making explicit what readers have long understood: this is a semi-autobiographical story (emphasis on the "semi"), with Alcott herself as Jo. In this telling, Jo isn't just tomboyish – she’s ready to throw off the trappings of womanhood altogether, reflecting Alcott's own feelings that she had a "boy's spirit."
The curtain rises on Alcott (played with swagger by Beasley) at her writing desk, speaking directly to the audience as she prepares to immortalize her sisters as the Marches. This framing gives the material a contemporary lens and a modern feminist streak, with the play more or less comfortably bridging the 150ish years between when it was published and now.
The challenge of adapting a novel originally published in two volumes is evident in the production's brisk pacing. Director Joanie Schultz moves the story along at a clip, and while this energy keeps the evening lively, some nuance gets sacrificed, such as the differences between the sisters. Especially at the beginning, the sisters other than Jo all seem to blur together, which is in part due to the scenes Gunderson has chosen to include. The exception is Amy, who Sammy Rat Rios skillfully manages to convey as the youngest, silliest, and vainest of the bunch, even when she’s not speaking.
They become more differentiated as they grow up – Hannah Fawcett's Meg grows more distinct as a model of traditional femininity as she matures into adulthood, while Jo and Amy get the kind of perspective that can only come from new experiences. Beth (played by Brianna Woods) is the one most at odds with her depiction in the novel: rather than a timid and reserved contrast to her more assertive sisters, she's just as lively and energetic as the rest, at least until later in the show.
The non-sister cast is genuinely delightful. Rocco Weyer won my heart as Laurie, the neighbor boy unlucky enough to fall in love with free-spirited Jo. Kieran Cronin proves equally winning as John Brooke (Meg's steady suitor) and Friedrich (Jo's German professor friend), bringing warmth and depth to both. Connan Morrissey makes the most of Marmee (as the family’s moral compass, this is admittedly not the most dynamic role) and shines in her brief appearance as crusty Aunt March.
Scenic designer Chelsea M. Warren's set works smartly within its simplicity, providing several beautiful visual effects that enhance the production without overwhelming the intimate family story.
This is a solid, heartfelt production that succeeds in making a classic story feel fresh and relevant while honoring both Alcott's novel and her lived experience.
As always, dramaturg Kamilah Bush's program note is worth reading. Her exploration of how different Americans would have experienced Christmas during the Civil War era adds valuable historical context to the March family's modest celebrations.
Louisa May Alcott'S LITTLE WOMEN runs through December 21. Details and tickets here.
Photo credit: Jingzi Zhao
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