Little Women, The Irishman, and the Fear of Growing Old

In both the 2019 remake of Little Women and The Irishman, Greta Gerwig and Martin Scorsese provide a nuanced take on what it’s like to grow old. Gerwig chooses to explore this through the lens of a young woman in the Civil War-era United States, while Scorsese comes at it from the perspective of an aging truck driver-turned-criminal in the 1950s. Both films are very different on the surface, but provide quite touching and interesting takes on the same emotions and experiences.

In Little Women, on Meg’s wedding day to John, her and Jo have an interesting conversation about love, marriage, and growing up. In response to what Jo feels like is having her sister taken away, she sadly remarks; “I can’t believe childhood is over”. Jo’s character, throughout the film, actively resists the idea of marriage, violently turning down Laurie’s proposal to her on the hill. Marriage, for her, is the end of childhood. The end of one’s childhood also marks the end of joy, complete freedom, and happiness. Jo is afraid to grow old because it means being a woman in the world with responsibility, expectations, and duties.

It’s evident even in the color grading, that Gerwig is implying that the thought of growing up is scary and unknown. In the scenes that take place seven years prior to the present, during the March sisters’ childhood, the colors are softer and bathed in an orange, while the present-day events are surrounded by an icy blue. The four sisters are also much sadder, with Meg living in poverty with John, Jo feeling completely lonely, (as expressed in her groundbreaking monologue in the attic), Beth accepting the fact that she’s going to die, and Amy deciding to give up on art as a whole. The four young women have come to realize that the world is cruel, unforgiving, and, oftentimes, lonely. This endless uphill battle constitutes their coming-of-age.

In The Irishman, Scorsese paints the life of Frank Sheeran as thrilling and exciting - that is, until the very end of the film. Frank relays his crimes with fervor, explaining how everything he did led to the mysterious disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa. Frank refuses to give too many details that would incriminate the other characters. There’s an air of opulence as he retells the events, with bright cinematography and catchy music to accompany the scenes. This bubble is burst when the FBI agent reminds him that everyone in this story, except for Frank, is dead - he has no reason to lie for anyone since he’s the only survivor left. This is when the film comes to a screeching halt. The crushing weight of being utterly alone in your old age hits the audience like a ton of bricks at the mention of this. Like in Little Women, Frank is completely lonely in his adulthood, still clinging to the glory of his younger years.

The final shot of The Irishman is what ties the overarching theme together. After Frank tells his story, the camera pulls away to show him sitting in a chair, in the room of the hospital surrounded by no one. It’s just him. Alone. The emptiness that he’s surrounded by is lonely, overbearing and suffocating. It’s haunting to see that, in the end, Frank ended up becoming Jo March’s worst fear - completely and utterly alone.

Despite these two films being wildly different in terms of tone, plot, and direction, both directors deal with the universal phenomenon of growing old, as well as the fear and loneliness that accompanies this. Both of these films are beautiful in the way they express the same feelings in disparate ways. Little Women and The Irishman help remind us that we aren’t alone in these feelings. By making their main characters feel alone, we, as the audience, don’t have to.