with Abby Ryder Fortson, Benny Safdie, Rachel McAdams, Kathy Bates
Margaret (Abby Ryder Fortson) is the only child of a Jewish dad and a Christian mom. At least that is how her parents started out, in a religious culture. Since Margaret was born, they have not followed any structured faith, and since Margaret’s mother’s very Christian parents have cast her off because of her marriage to a Jew, she has been told it is up to her to decide her own faith.
Margaret sort of goes faith-shopping. She tries out a temple with her grandmother Sylvia, who dotes on her. She goes to a Christmas service with her so called friend, who is more concerned about getting a bra and acting like a teen ready to get felt up than anybody seeking a spiritual life.
But what makes the movie worth watching, and what has held up beautifully 50 years after the book was published by Judy Blume, its author, are the earnest pleas to God by the girl in the title role. She really wants help, and doesn’t see why if there is a god there should not be some coming her way from up there.
Adolescence as an American girl is fraught. There is the mean girl tribe. There is the anxiety surrounding puberty. There are strange crushes unbidden on boys completely wrong for you. Margaret experiences all of these, and lucky for her, she has kind, understanding parents, and grandparents even who wish her well. She may even find a new friend after being led astray by some false ones.
Rachel McAdams plays the mother who doesn’t fit into her new suburban neighborhood. She has just moved from the upper west side of Manhattan because her husband’s promotion enables them to live a bit larger than before. Barbara is an artist, used to having her time be her own, not playing to conventions of dressing just so by 9 AM. The other mothers in the neighborhood press her to participate in typical parent activities, like making stars for a mural. At first she plays along but like her daughter, Margaret, she realizes that she doesn’t want to conform. The movie, like the book, takes place in the 1960s and the costumes and production design reflect that period when women stayed at home to take care of the kids. Their biggest challenge might be picking the right furniture for the living room to match the rest of the modern decor.
The acting especially by the girls is spot on. Kathy Bates as Sylvia, Margaret’s father’s mother, is always welcome. Camera work accentuates the restricted feelings of both daughter and mother as they navigate the suburbs. Even though the movie is set several decades ago, like the book, its tone feels contemporary, its story timeless.
What makes this novel, and now the movie, classic, is the way it combines issues of spirituality with dilemmas of physical growth, cultural conformity, family conflicts, all in a seamless story about a girl moving away from her comfort zone just as she is entering middle school. The director’s screenplay hits every nail on the head. Any mother who has raised a teenage girl will find scenes harrowing and recognizable as we suffered through the “talk.” Sex, menstruation, body care. Kathy Bates gets the enviable role of the loving Jewish grandmother. Not so lucky are those who play Barbara’s parents, evangelical Christians, especially when they show up unexpectedly and we hope for the unreasonable reconciliation to take place over dinner.
But the movie is about the eleven year old growing up. It honors her every struggle in a way that is rare in movies intended for that audience.