Just as the titular character Margaret Simon asks God over and over again if her period will ever come, fans of the beloved Judy Blume novel have been asking for 50+ years when Margaret's story would be adapted for the screen. Although Blume has resisted turning a majority of her books into movies and was adamant that Margaret would never see the silver screen, prayers of fans of the 11-year-old protagonist have been (finally) answered with the release of Kelly Fremon Craig's adaption, scheduled for theatrical release on April 28, 2023.
Set in 1970 (the same year as the novel was published), the movie opens with Margaret Simon (Abby Ryder Fortson) returning home from a summer spent at camp. She's barely had time to set her trunk down before her grandmother Sylvia (Kathy Bates) spills the beans that Margaret and her parents Herb (Benny Safdie) and Barbara (Rachel McAdams) are moving out of their apartment. In fact, they're moving out of New York City entirely and settling in a suburb in. . . New Jersey. Margaret is distraught at leaving her home and grandmother behind. Still, she bravely opens herself up to the experience, soon falling in with her neighbor Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham) and two other friends, Janie and Gretchen (Amari Alexis Price and Katherine Kupferer). Together the four girls form a secret club where they swap secrets and gossip while doing arm exercises because they must, they must, they "must increase [their] bust." (I remembered that line from the book. Truly, who could forget it?).
In addition to the struggles of early adolescence, Margaret, a child of a Jewish father and a Christian-raised mother, is also facing a religious crisis. Having been kept religion-free by design, with the promise she can choose her own religion as a grown-up, Margaret seeks to find a religious space where she can feel God. She prays frequently, but, even after trying temple and several different varieties of Christianity, admits that she still feels God the most when she's alone.
Her religious turmoil comes to a head when her estranged Christian grandparents come to visit, meeting Margaret for the first time. Sylvia returns hurriedly from a trip to Florida when she learns the other grandparents are on their way and the night quickly turns into a fight for Margaret's religious ideology. Margaret ends the squabbling by shouting for everyone to stop and that she doesn't even believe in God. Margaret stops talking to God, but that doesn't mean she won't have a change of heart before the end of the movie even if she never resolves the issue of Christianity or Judaism.
In the midst of Margaret's struggles with preteen parties games, friends starting their periods, and her first crush, this adaptation breaks from the source material to put more spotlight on Margaret's mother Barbara. The move to New Jersey means that she has stopped teaching art classes and can now devote her time to more traditional pursuits, like becoming a better cook, picking out new furniture for the living room, and joining every PTA committee possible. (In my family growing up, we would have called the woman that Barbara was trying to embody an "Übermom."). These new tasks don't come organically to Barbara and we see her struggle to live up to her own idealized version of womanhood out in suburbia.
I felt that this insertion helped round out the story in ways that allow women who loved Margaret in earlier decades to see themselves as older women reflected in the film. Just as Margaret is dealing with the pains of growing into womanhood, Barbara's plotline illustrates that those pains never really go away. Just as Margaret compares her chest to the more-developed busts of some of her peers, Barbara compares her messy home and mid-day pajamas to the immaculate home and crisp color-blocked outfit of her neighbor. Women of all ages struggle with preconceived notions of femininity and what it means to be a woman, even if the struggles don't always look the same.
Admittedly, it's been 15-ish years since I read the book, so the addition of Barbara's plot points didn't strike me as particularly sacrilegious. And, while I remembered liking the novel, I didn't remember much of the story beyond Margaret praying and angsting over getting her period. Going in, I did remember the stark contrast I felt in relation to Margaret and her peers. In my middle school experience, puberty was a dirty word, admitting to having a crush was humiliating, and beginning menstruation was a shameful secret.
I remember feeling at odds with this group of girls who so desperately wanted to be seen as and feel like women. I, like their busty classmate Laura (played beautifully—painfully—by Isol Young), was always taller and hit puberty earlier than most of my peers. To me, it was a cruel, inescapable spotlight when I wanted nothing more than to be invisible, to look like everyone else. But, Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret offered a different perspective—one I wish I had been able to digest more of at the time. Margaret and her friends live in a world where womanhood is exciting and these changes, while scary sometimes, are embraced and even celebrated.
I think that time breeds familiarity and with that, along with a lot of unlearning, I've since embraced my own womanhood (even including menstruation). Looking back, I wish that I'd had a support system closer to Margaret's to uplift me through that tumultuous time. My hope that this movie would give space for girls now and in the future to be open and honest and excited for this time of change was met and exceeded. Margaret and her friends are allowed to be silly and giggle and talk about boys and express desires and fears about their periods without ever being the butt of the joke by the script or the camera. Their experiences as girls and young women are explored and honored in this film. When Nancy's brother and friend burst in on them, laughing and mocking the girls as they recite "We must, we must, we must increase our bust," the scene doesn't position the audience on the side of the boys laughing at the girls. Instead, the action and audio are frenetic, increasing the feeling that you too are a part of the club and have been pounced upon by mean little boys.
I appreciated the care and emotional weight given to these characters by writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig, and it's no wonder that Judy Blume gave her permission for this project to be the one to bring Margaret to the silver screen. This is the first time I've seen Abby Ryder Fortson act and she captured the essence of Margaret fully. I was so impressed with her and Elle Graham for their ability to play all the emotions of adolescence so faithfully. Their chemistry, along with the other girls (Amari Alexis Price, Katherine Mallen Kupferer, and Isol Young), is in the same league as other women-driven movies like Little Women (2019) and Bend It Like Beckham (2002). Rachel McAdams almost steals the show as Barbara, offering an honest portrayal of a woman and mom who has to try and doesn't always get it right. Benny Safdie is pleasant (if a little forgettable) as Margaret's dad, while Kathy Bates is gloriously, deliciously lush as Sylvia.
The choice to keep the movie rooted in the '70s, the era Margaret first entered the scene, is wise. Not only does it eliminate any painfully rote attempts to turn Margaret's monologues into texting (or the honest depiction of the girls' mean-spirited gossip about Laura into bullying via Instagram or TikTok), it presents another bid to connect current readers and lovers of the book with previous fans. I obviously never lived in the 1970s, but watching I saw my mother who would have been close to Margaret's age, and my grandmothers who would have been around Barbara's. Margaret's experience is, I think, somewhat universal, and so I was always able to relate to the story even despite the anachronisms. The unexpected, joyous part of this film for me was feeling connected to the women in my life, being able to see them in so many iterations and ages.
While sharp-eyed viewers will spot the beloved author in a cameo appearance as one of Margaret's new neighbors in New Jersey, my viewing began with a clip of Judy Blume herself reading the opening pages of her classic book. I'm not sure if this was because my screening was early access or if this snippet will open every run, but I would hope it's the latter.
In addition to being a lovely homage to the prolific children's book author, I interpreted this opening as an indirect response to the renewed attempt of conservatives to ban children's books in both school and public libraries. Since its publication in 1970, Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret has faced numerous censorship attempts based on the frank depictions of menstruation and religion (or lack thereof). Making the list of 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books from both 1990-1999 and 2000-2009, the novel actually did drop out of the top 100 during the 2010s. However, new laws proposed in Florida attempting to prohibit any discussion of periods in schools puts Margaret right back on the fire.
The subsequent heartwarming and tender film is a direct juxtaposition to the notion that Margaret's world is too mature or pushing an agenda. Margaret is simply navigating the world at large during a vulnerable age and asserts over and over that she wants to be in control of her own thoughts.
The American Library Association is set to release the 2022 list of the top ten most challenged books in the US only a few days after this publication goes live as a part of their programming for National Library Week 2023.
Maybe we'll see Margaret there too.
4.5 Stars out of 5.
End Credits: 3/5
Soundtrack: 4/5 (Scored by Hans Zimmer!)
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