Lizette Mynhardt, Jesse McQueen, Karen Scobie, Lizie Moffatt and Mari MacDonald in “Little Women”, Photo by Moriah Campbell
I read Louisa May Alcott’s classic for the first time back in 2020. It was one of my early lockdown reads. Excited to see Greta Gerwig’s acclaimed film, I wanted to get properly acquainted with the original text since hearing that Gerwig’s adaptation had honoured the story while simultaneously paying tribute to the publishing pressures placed on Alcott by mid-19th century social mores. Wren Theatre’s presentation of Little Women, nestled in Alumnae Theatre’s cozy studio space, is a more conventional retelling, which should suit most people drawn to the material just fine—both passionate fans of the book and interested newbies alike.
With their father off fighting in the American Civil War, the March sisters bicker and bond as they grow up under to the warm guidance of their mother, whom they affectionately call Marmee (Jesse McQueen). They have their differences, but are a tight-knit family. The eldest, Jo (Lizette Mynhardt), is a hot-headed tom boy with aspirations of being a writer, of living independently! Always sketching away, the precocious youngest, Amy (Mari MacDonald), also has artistic impulses and is prone to clumsy attempts at ladylike sophistication. They have a mutually antagonistic relationship while the other two sisters provide a buffer—the mature and diligent Meg (Lizie Moffatt) and the ailing, kindhearted Beth (Karen Scobie).
As the story unfolds, there is both joy and heartbreak as these little women grow into adulthood. The characters depicted here include: Theodore Lawrence “Laurie” (Devin Bell), Jo’s best friend who has unreciprocated romantic aspirations; John Brooke (Jordan Imray), Meg’s suitor; the servant embraced as one of the family, Hannah (Drea Burck); their father, Mr. March (Daniel Christian Jones); a local priest and doctor (Dash Grundy); and the wealthy, tyrannically old-fashioned and cantankerous spinster, Aunt March (Anne Shepherd).
The performances range from stiff and formal to warmly persuasive. I am partial to MacDonald’s very amusing Amy, who is consistently compelling even in background action. The strengths and weaknesses all sort of even out in Tatum Lee’s handsome production, which has a quaint and rustic charm. The lovely period costumes are on point. Natalia Morales’ set is a snug living room and foyer—the working fireplace and Gillian MacLeod’s vaguely sepia-toned lighting really pulls it together. The space is filled with a light, ambient haze that completes the nostalgic vibe.
Scott Davidson’s adaptation, which confines everything to the March home and surrounding yard, plays like a highlight reel of the story. It zips through at a brisk clip, while affectionately luxuriating in most of its key moments. I don’t miss the various cotillions that feature in the novel. It is baffling to me, though, how Jo and Amy’s big fight is never addressed—no burning of Jo’s manuscript after a slight, no Amy falling through the ice and their eventual reconciliation. These are, I believe, pivotal and iconic moments and its a shame to lose them.
One of my favourite bits is retained: when Marmee lifts the veil of her calm, steady disposition and confides to Jo that she’s “angry nearly every day of my life.” For me, that revelation is one of the most resonant in the story—a glimpse into her imperfect humanity, her constant struggle to maintain a dependable facade and noble model for her daughters. McQueen and Mynhardt do it justice.
It is unfortunate that a production of Cabaret was playing in the adjacent Mainspace. For the most part, the sound didn’t bleed through, but there was a rather surreal moment when “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” eerily drifted into a heartfelt scene between Marmee and Jo. Them’s the breaks in multi-space venues!
Little Women
running November 29 to December 7, 2024
Alumnae Studio Theatre (70 Berkeley Street)
running time: 2 hours (with intermission)
Devin Bell and Mari MacDonald in “Little Women”, Photo by Moriah Campbell