Film adaptations of popular novels are rarely this faithful.
It’s not merely a matter of director/scripter Kelly Fremon Craig retaining all the crucial plot points of Judy Blume’s 1970 coming-of-age classic; it’s easy enough to check such boxes. But Fremon Craig also captures the book’s essential tone and atmosphere, along with the blend of eagerness, humiliation, humor, excitement and stubborn determination that fuels the young protagonist’s journey into nascent womanhood.
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| Margaret (Abby Ryder Fortson, right) — determined to purchase her first bra, but horrified by the process (check her expression!) — gamely navigates a fraught-with-peril visit to a department store, in the company of her sympathetic and knowing mother (Rachel McAdams). |
Everything — every performance, dramatic hiccup, youthfully exaggerated tragedy and excruciating embarrassment — feels authentic.
(The degree to which this is true became obvious quite quickly, during last Saturday’s preview screening, when Constant Companion, in a blend of amazement and horror, kept mumbling things such as “Oh, gawd,” “Just like it happened” and “That was me.”)
Although remembered primarily for 12-year-old Margaret’s desperate desire to experience her first period — the frequent subject of her chats with God, and the major reason Blume’s novel has long been the target of blue-nosed book-banners — the parallel plot line, touching on Margaret’s exploration of religion, is equally crucial.
The film retains the book’s 1970 setting, and events take place during Margaret Simon’s sixth-grade school year. As the story begins, in a sweetly fleeting montage, Margaret is shown having a blast at summer camp. She then returns to her New York City home, and the tightly knit family unit that includes her parents (Rachel McAdams and Benny Safdie, as Barbara and Herb) and grandmother Sylvia (scene-stealing Kathy Bates, blessed with impeccable line delivery).
Unfortunately, this happy reunion is tarnished by the news that her parents are moving them to a New Jersey suburb, leaving Sylvia — Herb’s mother — behind. Distressed by that, and the thought of never seeing her friends again, Margaret is crushed.
But she rebounds quickly, thanks to an immediate visit from new neighbor Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham), a boldly confident girl who’s proud of her developing breasts, and somewhat astonished by Margaret’s, ah, lack of same. Upon learning that they’ll be in the same sixth-grade class, Nancy invites Margaret to become the fourth and final member of a “secret club” that includes Janie Loomis (Amari Alexis Price) and Gretchen Potter (Katherine Mallen Kupferer).
Although the latter two girls seem kind and pleasant enough, Nancy — as self-appointed club leader — frequently enhances her own ego, at the not-always-subtle expense of the others. It’s perhaps unfair to call Nancy a “mean girl,” since she never seems deliberately spiteful, but her audacious behavior often pushes the others — and particularly Margaret — beyond their comfort zone.
Peer pressure, even when harmless, can be intimidating. Besides which, Margaret wants to “fit in,” and views being accepted by Nancy as the fast track to that goal.
Graham navigates the role unerringly, ensuring that we never wholly dislike Nancy. Besides, her self-professed maturity is helpful at times, although her “wisdom” often owes more to youthful urban legends. The best, and most cringe-worthy example: the means by which she “helps” the others via absurd exercises and repetition of the mantra, “We must … we must … we must increase our bust!”
(Ah, the 1970s. Such an innocent time.)
Margaret has grown up in a blended family; Herb is Jewish, Barbara Christian. For reasons that initially are unclear, they’ve allowed Margaret to eschew any sort of religious affiliation until she’s old enough to make an informed choice; this also impacts her conversations with God. With encouragement from her teacher, Mr. Benedict (Echo Kellum, note-perfect as the sort of middle-school teacher we’d all love to have had), she devotes her term project to a study of religion.
She therefore attends a Jewish service with her grandmother — Bates positively shivers with delight, when Sylvia proudly introduces her granddaughter to everybody — and later attends a Protestant service and explores Catholicism.
Margaret also surprises her mother with a delicate question: Why have they never spent time with the other set of grandparents? The answer, which reveals religion’s potential for divisive conflict and anguish, proves quite upsetting … and extremely instructive.
(Sylvia and Barbara’s parents never meet each other in Blume’s book. They do so in this film: Fremon Craig’s sole departure from the source material. This decision is dramatically understandable … but goodness, it’s hard to watch.)
These major issues are accompanied by all manner of delightful, endearing and even awkward sidebar encounters that’ll remind adult viewers how ghastly some aspects of middle school were. Nancy has a crush on the cutest boy in class; Margaret is chagrined to find herself the target of geeky Norman Fisher (Simms May), when she’d much rather be noticed by Moose Freed (Aidan Wojtak-Hissong).
Jealous classmates — led by Nancy — spread lies about the impossibly tall and well-developed Isol Young (Laura Danker), a shy girl who suffers in silent humiliation. (We grieve for her.)
On a lighter note, Barbara — who has forsaken her art career to become an involved “school Mom” — succumbs to her own dose of peer pressure, by accepting far too many PTA assignments from Nancy’s equally assertive mother (Kate MacCluggage, chirpily condescending).
McAdams makes Barbara the perfect mother: never pushy, willing to let Margaret make low-caliber mistakes, but always attentive, for those times when her daughter needs her. This dynamic is the film’s heart; McAdams and Fortson make the mother/daughter bond feel genuine.
McAdams also sells the story’s most powerful moment, when Barbara confesses the reason behind her parents’ absence from their lives.
Herb is amiable, tolerant and patient, although Safdie’s gaze often reflects a bittersweet element (with good reason). Herb clearly is devoted to his daughter, but he recognizes that she’s at the cusp of — for awhile — needing her mother, more than she’ll need him.
Price is adorable as Janie, the smallest member of the secret club, and also the kindest: absolutely somebody you’d want as a best friend. She and Margaret have much in common, while Gretchen gravitates more toward Nancy. Kupferer makes Gretchen somewhat mischievous, and bold in the manner of Nancy; Margaret and Janie often feel overwhelmed by them.
All this said, Fortson anchors the film, giving Margaret an endearing blend of charisma, intelligence and vulnerability. Her chats with God reflect curiosity, mild defiance and — at her low moments — heartbreaking despair. Fortson totally owns the camera; we cheer Margaret’s minor triumphs, and sympathize with the “failures” that seem catastrophic to a 12-year-old who wants only to “fit in” as smoothly and comfortably as possible.
Hans Zimmer’s gentle underscore is accompanied by a wealth of period-specific pop tunes that’ll certainly raise smiles of recognition from older viewers.
What else can be said? Since true perfection is an impossible goal, let’s settle for acknowledging that Fremon Craig’s captivating film gets pretty darn close.
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