Two sides of the same Little Women coin
Monday, December 22, 2025
One of the most adaptable and evergreen titles in American literature that has been reimagined for the big and small screen remains Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, originally published in 1868. Including television and foreign versions, there have been at least 14 renditions of this story over the past 100-plus years, with seven adaptations made for the cinema. The oldest surviving version is the 1933 iteration directed by George Cukor and starring Katherine Hepburn, while the most recent is the 2019 version directed by Greta Gerwig. Our CineVerse group recently compared and contrasted these two editions over the past few weeks.
Cukor’s film is a more faithful adaptation of the book, although the 1933 movie certainly doesn’t cover every subplot or secondary character from the source novel. The friction between Amy and Jo, for example, isn’t depicted. Professor Bhaer is imbued with musical talents in this version instead of Laurie. Cukor and company condense a good portion of episodes in the novel to fit within the limited runtime, so that the picture appears to progress at a speedy pace, with some awkward transitions between sequences. Consider how quickly Beth’s illness and death are treated, for example, and how each of the March sisters – except for Jo – isn’t given an opportunity for much character development, making three of the sisters relatively interchangeable.
One of the facets that makes this iteration particularly interesting is the timing of its release, during the depths of the Great Depression – even though the setting is actually the American Civil War. Audiences in 1933 would have been keenly attuned to many of the themes of economic struggle, personal sacrifice, and class distinction. According to essayist Katherine Kellett: “Cukor's film strongly exemplifies the nation's attitudes and the general esprit of social reform of the early 1930s…The film invokes an emphasis on food, frugality, and conservation, embodies a spirit of activism and social reform, and imbues a nostalgic longing for hearth, home, and familial responsibility and morality. As a result, Cukor's Little Women becomes a kind of allegory for the ideals set forth in the nineteen-thirties to allay the prevailing fear and poverty: an activist spirit grounded in unbreakable ties to family and community.”
A lot of big-name talent is attached to this production, including original producer David O. Selznick, who was replaced by Marien C. Cooper (who that same year co-directed and produced King Kong); esteemed director Cukor; genius maestro Max Steiner, who composed the score; co-screenwriter Victor Heerman, who had earlier directed Animal Crackers for the Marx Brothers and later wrote screenplays for Magnificent Obsession and Stella Dallas; and a young Hepburn, who that same year won her first Oscar for the film Morning Glory (Little Women was only her fourth movie). A tomboy in her youth and herself raised in New England, Hepburn felt drawn to this role.
The commitment to authenticity is clear throughout the 1933 rendition. Drawing from audience polling, Selznick and his collaborators aimed to create a version that felt true to Alcott’s original setting. Hobe Erwin’s meticulously crafted sets closely mirrored the March family’s home, while Walter Plunkett’s costume designs highlighted both the family’s modest means and their interconnectedness. The dresses, deliberately worn and patched, could be shared among the sisters across scenes, emphasizing both their poverty and the close family bonds. Plunkett, who later designed for Gone With the Wind, carefully balanced historical accuracy with narrative purpose in his designs.
This 92-year-old picture was a big hit for RKO and was voted one of the 10 best films of that year. It’s also regarded as one of the first translations of a classic novel that became a box office success while also remaining faithful to its print source. Its success inspired Selznick and other producers to believe that classic stories had box office appeal and should be considered for big-screen adaptations.
Interestingly, this is a pre-code Hollywood movie released before the enforcement of the Hays Code and stricter censorship. Many studios caught heat in the early 1930s for more violent and prurient content; more conservative viewers appreciated Little Women’s emphasis on wholesome family values.
This is also the work that catapulted Cukor to the upper echelon of Hollywood directors and which forged a stronger bond between he and Hepburn, a partnership that would result in eight films and two television movies. After reading Alcott’s book prior to filming, Cukor said: “I was startled. It's not sentimental or saccharine, but very strong-minded, full of character, and a wonderful picture of New England family life. It's full of that admirable New England sternness, about sacrifice and austerity.”
While it’s not widely considered a Christmas movie (only the first half-hour is set during the holiday season), Cukor’s version of Little Women “might be one of the most important movies ever made in terms of the evolution of Christmas movies,” posits Mainlining Christmas blogger Erin Snyder. “Its success was pivotal in Hollywood's shift from more adult-oriented content to family-friendly fare. It's worth noting that, with a few exceptions, the first ‘talkie’ Christmas movies came out after Little Women. It's not unreasonable to wonder if the opening scenes of Little Women directly inspired the production of subsequent movies…. It's not much of a stretch to wonder if the Christmas movies of the 1940s were partly born out of the start of this adaptation.”
Gerwig adopts a radically different approach in her 2019 retelling. Here, the narrative follows two timelines: the present, which begins the film, and flashbacks to the March sisters’ childhoods, with the story continually shifting between these timelines. The advantage to this approach is that it frames the narrative from the start as definitively Jo’s tale and POV, and indicates that this will be a story about a blossoming author and intrepid female whose previous younger experiences have helped shape the strong, independent woman she has become. The drawback is that the transitions between time frames can be abrupt and confusing to the viewer, especially fans of the book and previous film adaptations in which the story was told linearly.
“Gerwig taps into a radical proposition – she unearths a reflective sense of memory and nostalgia within the conversation she fosters between the film’s two timelines,” according to reviewer Tomris Laffly. “Her structure of well-paced flashbacks, laced with emotional peaks and soothing cadences, is first a surprising puzzle and then a source of all, but never disrespectful to Alcott’s intentions.” BFI critic Nikki Baughan also admired this bifurcated storytelling style, writing: “Gerwig focuses on the novel’s key coming-of-age themes rather than individual moments: the loss of childhood, the importance of forging one’s own path, tentative steps towards female emancipation. It is a fresh, dynamic approach that may seem spun from modern feminist thought, but actually makes explicit ideas that Alcott vocally espoused (the line about her canoe [‘I’d rather be a free spinster and paddle my own canoe’], for example, is taken from a letter she wrote to her sister).”
This version begins with the adult Jo attempting to sell her writings to a publisher and concludes with a more confident Jo negotiating editorial changes with that same publisher, which creates a neat bookending device that thematically reinforces the idea of Little Women being an inspiring story about female creativity and empowerment. Gerwig’s work also significantly changes the ending of Alcott’s book to better reflect 21st-century feminist sensibilities. In the novel, Jo has her Little Women book published, but ultimately marries Professor Friedrich. In the 2019 film, Jo decides to remain single, but she changes the ending of her Little Women book, at her publisher’s request, so that the protagonist (herself) chooses to continue the romance with Friedrich.
The 2019 movie, perhaps more than any previous adaptation, also makes clear that Jo is an obvious stand-in for Alcott. And it delves more deeply into the inner lives of its characters – especially Amy, who is more fleshed out and shown as an occasional antagonist to Jo. Additionally, this version looks upon marriage as a complex blend of love, money, and social reality, with Jo’s conclusion presented as a conscious compromise between creative autonomy and commercial demands. In tone and approach, the newer film embraces a distinctly contemporary, feminist perspective, while the 1933 version leans toward a warm, romanticized portrayal of domestic life and traditional female roles.
Arguably, in this adaptation, there’s better chemistry, as well as more realistic conflict, between the March sisters as well as the actresses playing them. Also, viewers benefit from a more chromatic and well-appointed experience thanks to the decision to shoot in color and imbue a more lavish production design, with an admirable attention to period authenticity and distinctive costuming evident. The 2019 movie improves upon its 1933 predecessor in multiple ways: cinematography, runtime, widescreen canvas, better casting of key roles (especially Laurie and Amy), and a more realistic approach that tones down the saccharine sweet sentimentality.
However, many still prefer Hepburn’s spirited and tomboyish performance as Jo over Saoirse Ronan, as well as the chronologically consistent storytelling of the 1933 version, which is also slightly more of a Christmas film than the 2019 redo.
Any translation of Alcott’s tome consistently underscores themes of austerity, sacrifice, and suffering. The March family is continually compelled to help others in need and show compassion to the less fortunate. It’s a message that would have resonated among Great Depression audiences watching the 1933 iteration. Recall that the family was previously much more prosperous but has learned to do without in the years their patriarch has been away at war. Hardship, disease, hunger, and death visit the March clan throughout this story, but the family rises to every occasion.
Likewise, any reimagining will emphasize the inseparable bonds of family. As distinctly different as the March sisters are in personality and characteristics, they and their mother support each other, regardless of period challenges or romantic rivalry. Little Women reminds us of a simple but immutable truth: family is forever.
And no matter the director, Little Women will always abide as a coming-of-age story, in this case a narrative particularly about the maturation of Jo March: how she blossoms into a talented writer and strong, independent woman who, despite rising above her small-town beginnings, never forgets her roots.
But Gerwig’s vision is singular in how it better accentuates the often overlooked merits of female creativity, ingenuity, and determination. Perhaps Jo’s most famous line in the 2019 version is: “Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they've got ambition, and they've got talent, as well as just beauty. I'm so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for.” The makers of the 2019 film also remind viewers time and again that, historically, women’s choices have been constrained by limited opportunities. Amy tells Laurie: “I'm not a poet. I'm just a woman. And as a woman, there's no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or support my family. And if I had my own money, which I don't, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. And if we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition because it is.”
However, Gerwig’s translation is not necessarily a radically feminist revision that consistently rejects 19th- and 20th-century notions of love, marriage, and the established patriarchal order of those times. Choosing to marry and raise a family doesn’t have to mean acquiescing or abandoning feminine agency altogether, her film posits. Let’s not forget that Meg appears vindicated in happily choosing John as her husband and becoming a mother, despite the financial sacrifices that accompany that decision; and Amy, who demonstrates agency dabbling as a talented but fledgling painter in Paris, surprisingly ends up marrying Laurie and apparently abandoning her to stick pursuits. By the conclusion, both Meg and Amy appear happy and well-adjusted in the domesticated roles they chose.
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of the 1933 version of Little Women, click here. To hear a recording of our discussion of the 2019 Little Women adaptation, click here.
Cukor’s film is a more faithful adaptation of the book, although the 1933 movie certainly doesn’t cover every subplot or secondary character from the source novel. The friction between Amy and Jo, for example, isn’t depicted. Professor Bhaer is imbued with musical talents in this version instead of Laurie. Cukor and company condense a good portion of episodes in the novel to fit within the limited runtime, so that the picture appears to progress at a speedy pace, with some awkward transitions between sequences. Consider how quickly Beth’s illness and death are treated, for example, and how each of the March sisters – except for Jo – isn’t given an opportunity for much character development, making three of the sisters relatively interchangeable.
One of the facets that makes this iteration particularly interesting is the timing of its release, during the depths of the Great Depression – even though the setting is actually the American Civil War. Audiences in 1933 would have been keenly attuned to many of the themes of economic struggle, personal sacrifice, and class distinction. According to essayist Katherine Kellett: “Cukor's film strongly exemplifies the nation's attitudes and the general esprit of social reform of the early 1930s…The film invokes an emphasis on food, frugality, and conservation, embodies a spirit of activism and social reform, and imbues a nostalgic longing for hearth, home, and familial responsibility and morality. As a result, Cukor's Little Women becomes a kind of allegory for the ideals set forth in the nineteen-thirties to allay the prevailing fear and poverty: an activist spirit grounded in unbreakable ties to family and community.”
A lot of big-name talent is attached to this production, including original producer David O. Selznick, who was replaced by Marien C. Cooper (who that same year co-directed and produced King Kong); esteemed director Cukor; genius maestro Max Steiner, who composed the score; co-screenwriter Victor Heerman, who had earlier directed Animal Crackers for the Marx Brothers and later wrote screenplays for Magnificent Obsession and Stella Dallas; and a young Hepburn, who that same year won her first Oscar for the film Morning Glory (Little Women was only her fourth movie). A tomboy in her youth and herself raised in New England, Hepburn felt drawn to this role.
The commitment to authenticity is clear throughout the 1933 rendition. Drawing from audience polling, Selznick and his collaborators aimed to create a version that felt true to Alcott’s original setting. Hobe Erwin’s meticulously crafted sets closely mirrored the March family’s home, while Walter Plunkett’s costume designs highlighted both the family’s modest means and their interconnectedness. The dresses, deliberately worn and patched, could be shared among the sisters across scenes, emphasizing both their poverty and the close family bonds. Plunkett, who later designed for Gone With the Wind, carefully balanced historical accuracy with narrative purpose in his designs.
This 92-year-old picture was a big hit for RKO and was voted one of the 10 best films of that year. It’s also regarded as one of the first translations of a classic novel that became a box office success while also remaining faithful to its print source. Its success inspired Selznick and other producers to believe that classic stories had box office appeal and should be considered for big-screen adaptations.
Interestingly, this is a pre-code Hollywood movie released before the enforcement of the Hays Code and stricter censorship. Many studios caught heat in the early 1930s for more violent and prurient content; more conservative viewers appreciated Little Women’s emphasis on wholesome family values.
This is also the work that catapulted Cukor to the upper echelon of Hollywood directors and which forged a stronger bond between he and Hepburn, a partnership that would result in eight films and two television movies. After reading Alcott’s book prior to filming, Cukor said: “I was startled. It's not sentimental or saccharine, but very strong-minded, full of character, and a wonderful picture of New England family life. It's full of that admirable New England sternness, about sacrifice and austerity.”
While it’s not widely considered a Christmas movie (only the first half-hour is set during the holiday season), Cukor’s version of Little Women “might be one of the most important movies ever made in terms of the evolution of Christmas movies,” posits Mainlining Christmas blogger Erin Snyder. “Its success was pivotal in Hollywood's shift from more adult-oriented content to family-friendly fare. It's worth noting that, with a few exceptions, the first ‘talkie’ Christmas movies came out after Little Women. It's not unreasonable to wonder if the opening scenes of Little Women directly inspired the production of subsequent movies…. It's not much of a stretch to wonder if the Christmas movies of the 1940s were partly born out of the start of this adaptation.”
Gerwig adopts a radically different approach in her 2019 retelling. Here, the narrative follows two timelines: the present, which begins the film, and flashbacks to the March sisters’ childhoods, with the story continually shifting between these timelines. The advantage to this approach is that it frames the narrative from the start as definitively Jo’s tale and POV, and indicates that this will be a story about a blossoming author and intrepid female whose previous younger experiences have helped shape the strong, independent woman she has become. The drawback is that the transitions between time frames can be abrupt and confusing to the viewer, especially fans of the book and previous film adaptations in which the story was told linearly.
“Gerwig taps into a radical proposition – she unearths a reflective sense of memory and nostalgia within the conversation she fosters between the film’s two timelines,” according to reviewer Tomris Laffly. “Her structure of well-paced flashbacks, laced with emotional peaks and soothing cadences, is first a surprising puzzle and then a source of all, but never disrespectful to Alcott’s intentions.” BFI critic Nikki Baughan also admired this bifurcated storytelling style, writing: “Gerwig focuses on the novel’s key coming-of-age themes rather than individual moments: the loss of childhood, the importance of forging one’s own path, tentative steps towards female emancipation. It is a fresh, dynamic approach that may seem spun from modern feminist thought, but actually makes explicit ideas that Alcott vocally espoused (the line about her canoe [‘I’d rather be a free spinster and paddle my own canoe’], for example, is taken from a letter she wrote to her sister).”
This version begins with the adult Jo attempting to sell her writings to a publisher and concludes with a more confident Jo negotiating editorial changes with that same publisher, which creates a neat bookending device that thematically reinforces the idea of Little Women being an inspiring story about female creativity and empowerment. Gerwig’s work also significantly changes the ending of Alcott’s book to better reflect 21st-century feminist sensibilities. In the novel, Jo has her Little Women book published, but ultimately marries Professor Friedrich. In the 2019 film, Jo decides to remain single, but she changes the ending of her Little Women book, at her publisher’s request, so that the protagonist (herself) chooses to continue the romance with Friedrich.
The 2019 movie, perhaps more than any previous adaptation, also makes clear that Jo is an obvious stand-in for Alcott. And it delves more deeply into the inner lives of its characters – especially Amy, who is more fleshed out and shown as an occasional antagonist to Jo. Additionally, this version looks upon marriage as a complex blend of love, money, and social reality, with Jo’s conclusion presented as a conscious compromise between creative autonomy and commercial demands. In tone and approach, the newer film embraces a distinctly contemporary, feminist perspective, while the 1933 version leans toward a warm, romanticized portrayal of domestic life and traditional female roles.
Arguably, in this adaptation, there’s better chemistry, as well as more realistic conflict, between the March sisters as well as the actresses playing them. Also, viewers benefit from a more chromatic and well-appointed experience thanks to the decision to shoot in color and imbue a more lavish production design, with an admirable attention to period authenticity and distinctive costuming evident. The 2019 movie improves upon its 1933 predecessor in multiple ways: cinematography, runtime, widescreen canvas, better casting of key roles (especially Laurie and Amy), and a more realistic approach that tones down the saccharine sweet sentimentality.
However, many still prefer Hepburn’s spirited and tomboyish performance as Jo over Saoirse Ronan, as well as the chronologically consistent storytelling of the 1933 version, which is also slightly more of a Christmas film than the 2019 redo.
Any translation of Alcott’s tome consistently underscores themes of austerity, sacrifice, and suffering. The March family is continually compelled to help others in need and show compassion to the less fortunate. It’s a message that would have resonated among Great Depression audiences watching the 1933 iteration. Recall that the family was previously much more prosperous but has learned to do without in the years their patriarch has been away at war. Hardship, disease, hunger, and death visit the March clan throughout this story, but the family rises to every occasion.
Likewise, any reimagining will emphasize the inseparable bonds of family. As distinctly different as the March sisters are in personality and characteristics, they and their mother support each other, regardless of period challenges or romantic rivalry. Little Women reminds us of a simple but immutable truth: family is forever.
And no matter the director, Little Women will always abide as a coming-of-age story, in this case a narrative particularly about the maturation of Jo March: how she blossoms into a talented writer and strong, independent woman who, despite rising above her small-town beginnings, never forgets her roots.
But Gerwig’s vision is singular in how it better accentuates the often overlooked merits of female creativity, ingenuity, and determination. Perhaps Jo’s most famous line in the 2019 version is: “Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they've got ambition, and they've got talent, as well as just beauty. I'm so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for.” The makers of the 2019 film also remind viewers time and again that, historically, women’s choices have been constrained by limited opportunities. Amy tells Laurie: “I'm not a poet. I'm just a woman. And as a woman, there's no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or support my family. And if I had my own money, which I don't, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. And if we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition because it is.”
However, Gerwig’s translation is not necessarily a radically feminist revision that consistently rejects 19th- and 20th-century notions of love, marriage, and the established patriarchal order of those times. Choosing to marry and raise a family doesn’t have to mean acquiescing or abandoning feminine agency altogether, her film posits. Let’s not forget that Meg appears vindicated in happily choosing John as her husband and becoming a mother, despite the financial sacrifices that accompany that decision; and Amy, who demonstrates agency dabbling as a talented but fledgling painter in Paris, surprisingly ends up marrying Laurie and apparently abandoning her to stick pursuits. By the conclusion, both Meg and Amy appear happy and well-adjusted in the domesticated roles they chose.
Similar works
- Jane Eyre (1847, book)
- Anne of Green Gables (1908, book)
- Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (1910, book)
- Pollyanna (1913, book)
- The Sound of Music (1965)
- The Trouble with Angels (1966)
- How to Make an American Quilt (1995)
- The Virgin Suicides (1999)
- Now and Then (1995)
- In Her Shoes (2005)
- The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (2005)
- Bridge to Terabithia (2007)
- Lady Bird (2017)
- Brooklyn (2015)
- Women Talking (2022)
