I’m climbing the stairs at the Alumnae Theatre, headed to see Wren Theatre’s Little Women, based on the classic novel by Louisa May Alcott. When I emerge into the theatre’s third-floor studio, it feels like I’ve stepped back in time to Civil War-era New England.
Beneath a canopy of green vines under the building’s arched roof, the performance space has been transformed into a warm, cozy nineteenth-century domestic drawing room. A small fireplace casts a soft glow, while a modestly decorated Christmas tree stands in the corner beside a settee and a piano. A white picket fence wraps the front of the house.
When the production begins, it’s Christmas Eve, and the March sisters are immersed in various pursuits. Meg carefully adjusts ornaments on the tree, Beth fills the room with a gentle piano melody, and Amy focuses intently on her sketches . . . until the calm is delightfully disrupted by the exuberant entrance of Jo, whose confident stride and jaunty tricornered hat announce her bold, unconventional spirit.
This vibrant opening scene draws us back through the centuries for a satisfying evening of domestic theatre focused on the small dramas of the March family home. Director Tatum Lee, acclaimed for her production of Wren Theatre’s The Drowning Girls last season, brings an intimate, yet dynamic vision to Scott Davidson’s adaptation of Little Women – a vision in which Natalia Morales’ living room set will provide a literal and emotional centre for the March sisters’ journeys through love, loss, and personal growth.
Little Women aficionados will recognize how this interpretation streamlines elements of Alcott’s novel in order to center the four sisters’ individual arcs and their close bond. For example, Grandfather Laurence and his relationship with Beth are elided. And Jo’s mentor and eventual husband Professor Bhaer is mentioned, but never appears – which keeps the focus squarely on her personal and professional development. For similar reasons, moments like Amy burning Jo’s manuscript are omitted, and the story simplifies the context of Amy’s European tour with Aunt March, and Meg’s challenges with motherhood. The result of these adjustments is a tight, clear family narrative of just 105 minutes, which is skilfully unified by recorded voiceovers provided by Jo, reflecting back from an unspecified future time.
Given the story’s ultra-tight focus on the four sisters, the beating heart of this production is the four actors who portray them. Lizette Mynhardt is a delight in conjuring aspiring writer Jo’s fiery independence and restless ambition, as well as the deep love she feels for her family. From the moment of her first appearance, her every line and gesture emblematizes Jo’s inner conflict between societal expectations and her creative dreams. And her heartfelt scenes with Karen Scobie’s Beth and Devin Bell’s jovial and generous Theodore “Laurie” Laurence are particularly striking.
Lizzie Moffatt delivers a graceful and sincere performance as eldest sister Meg — ably balancing refinement with devotion to her family. Her tender moments with Jordan Imray as Mr Brooke are especially poignant. Meanwhile, Karen Scobie imbues musical prodigy Beth with quiet strength and almost ethereal resolve. Her warmth resonates throughout the play, and when tragedy strikes, its emotional weight leaves a palpable impact on both her family and the audience. Finally, Mari MacDonald deftly captures the artistic, beauty-seeking Amy’s transformation from a coy, vain and impulsive girl into a confident and sophisticated young woman. Sparkling comedic moments in the first half of the play gradually give way to a poised maturity, especially in her later interactions with Laurie.
Rounding out the cast, Jesse McQueen portrays matriarch Marmee with compassion, intuition and self-assured strength: she is at once self-aware and a rock, anchoring the sisters in their trials. Anne Shepard’s Aunt March is a delightful, scene-stealing foil to the sisters’ optimism and energy, while Andrea Burck’s brusque yet doting Hannah provides the equivalent of a steady backbeat to the family home. As for the male actors? Since the focus here is “Little Women”, there is a little less for them to do – though Daniel Christian Jones does conjure a thoughtful cypher as Mr March, and Dash Grundy convinces as Dr. Bangs and the priest.
The production’s thoughtful design enriches the storytelling. The costumes, custom-created by Lee from original sketches, capture the essence of each character while reflecting their growth from adolescence to adulthood. Likewise, the sisters’ hairstyles transition from loose in the first act to styled up in the second, reflecting their maturation. And Amy’s second-act wardrobe, with its distinct European elegance, reflects both her travels with Aunt March and her love of beauty – while Aunt March’s perpetual hoop-skirted gown underscores her immovable attitudes.
In the end, what makes Wren Theatre’s Little Women so compelling is its ability to conjure for us this full-blown bygone world, and within it to balance the story’s overall emotional resonance with its signature moments of humour, hope, and humanity. On the night I attended, there were many children in the audience – which I found a fine testament to the story’s intergenerational appeal. Little Women’s well-known narrative provides a comforting familiarity, like a favourite meal – and here, this predictability allows the audience to immerse in the nostalgia of the experience . . . and then within it to discover new notes and small surprises.
For from the moment you enter the fireplace-lit performance space, this Little Women delights and satisfies. Its themes of family, sisterhood, resilience, and sacrifice remain timeless and speak to contemporary realities with surprising immediacy. So whether you’re revisiting this beloved story or discovering it for the first time, the ascent to the Alumnae Theatre’s third floor performance space is well worth the climb – and maybe even a return trip.
Wren Theatre’s Little Women continues at the Alumnae Studio Theatre until December 7, 2024. (The studio theatre is accessible by stairs only.) Tickets can be reserved here.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2024
