I’m not really into ‘over sentiment’, as a rule. Nostalgia is a different story. I can lament about the good old days of last Tuesday with a wistful sigh, but in the moment, I can’t do twee.

I feel awkward, embarrassed and also awkward again.

But Little Women was truly hand-claspingly, heartwarmingly lovely. It just was.

I’ve read the book (Louisa May Alcott, 1868), knew the narrative and appreciated the relationships between the sisters, their mother and auntie, and their forces to be reckoned with – all executed via very different ways and personalities.

But, as I think needs to be done when transferring your attention from one art form to another, with a known origin text, the slate is wiped clean ready to experience it in its own right.

…inspired by Alcott’s experiences growing up with her three sisters, Little Women is the story of the March family: mother Marmee and her daughters, beautiful Meg, tomboy Jo, sensitive Beth, and spoilt Amy, as they struggle to survive in New England during the American Civil War.

Adapted by Anne-Marie Casey, and directed by Brigid Larmour, last night I appreciated Little Women all over again, taking utter delight in each and every member of the cast, in the simple but effective sets (winner of best use of a chaise longue (on the chaise longue, on the chaise longue), is..!

I felt a warmth in my heart from seeing four sisters jousting and thrashing as personalities clashed, identities forged and then quick as a flash normal service resumed as they loved and supported one another – their different temperaments coming together as beautifully as their vocals as they stood round the piano singing Christmas carols.

Each character (and actor) brought its own charisma into proceedings, and dialogue (those glorious New England accents!) was snappy, smart, almost lyrically delivered. As for 2 hrs 20 we stepped out of Manchester and into the wonderful world of the March family (and suitors).

Jo (Rachael McAllister), or

Josie-pheeeeen!

Aunt March (Susan Twist)

the ‘original tomboy’ was as rambunctious as you’d hope. A great big ball of energy, only ever tempered and channelled by her love of writing.

Rachael McAllister commanded that stage, as attention-grabbing in moments where she was soft and gentle as in those when she was hitching up her skirts and launching herself (and snowballs) at an unsuspecting (but highly appreciative) Laurie – the noted and recently orphaned rich son and neighbour returned, Daniel Francis-Swaby, delivering a scene-stealing dry-witted yet endearing depiction.

Precocious, pocket-princess Amy (played utterly and totally on point by Julia Brown) was as naughty and entitled as her ‘literary film adaptation with an American civil war backdrop’ counterpart, Scarlett O’Hara at her best/worst.

Meg, eager to settle into her longed for society destiny of finding her rich betrothed (a sharp yet always subtle comedic performance by Jessica Brydges), instead found love, not money, in her role as wife and mother.

Playing her poor but honourable suitor, John Brooke, was hard-working Tom Richardson who, in the second half, took on the role of German, Prof Bhoer. Playing such chalk and cheese characters with the equally appropriate and required levels of under and overstatement, Tom Richardson owned both.

Oh but Aunt March, Aunt March. Susan Twist’s gloriously domineering, matriarchal spinster. Sweeping in and out of proceedings, delivering a damning, devastating and very very funny commentary on proceedings, with the secretly pleasing effect on the audience akin to that of the arrival of the pantomime villain (with an added touch of panache).

And Beth, poor sweet tragic Beth. I knew it was coming: We all knew it was coming, but the more we became invested in the show, the characters, the less we wanted to believe it would come to pass. Perhaps it was just me living in denial, but the more Meg Chaplin enchanted on stage with her sweet natured performance, the innocent calm amidst her sisters’ sometimes chaotic and stormy lives, the harder it landed (and it landed hard) when she took her leave from life, whilst laid out on the chaise longue (on the chaise longue. On the chaise longue).

Now. I’m metaphorically sitting on my metaphorical cliche-writing hands, here. I’m desperately wrestling with not using an obvious, perhaps lazy tagline here.

The past life TV high cheese entertainment publicist and press release writer in me is busting to get out with this next sentence and I apologise for my weakness for word play.

(Sorry Kacey)

And so from Little Mo to Little Women (with a huge raft of stage and screen roles in between) we had the pleasure of Kacey Ainsworth in the altogether more subtle yet equally strong matriarchal role of the mother (or Marmee) to the March girls.

A quiet but firm presider over, well proceedings, Marmee is a role which provides a steady hand on the tiller. A role which requires giving off the air of all is calm on the outside, whilst providing subtle but certain clues as to the battles being fought and won on the inside.

And, you know it’s Christmas in the arts and entertainment world when the fake snow machine comes out. As sarcastic as that sounds I certainly mean it with an air of childish excitement and gratitude.

Back to my press office days, it used to make an appearance in October when shooting covers for the Christmas editions of the TV magazines. Honestly, seeing that first synthetic flake was akin to taking in your first mince pie of the season or hearing your first It’s Christmas bellowed out by the patron saint of Christmas songs, Noddy Holder.

Over the last week, I’ve been lucky enough to bag a brace of theatre stage snowfalls. As a white flurry rained down upon the cast in the closing moments of this play, I was ironically left with a lovely warm feeling.

And just as Prof Bhoer had passionately urged Jo to do so in her writing, whilst the original story and premise may be over 150 years old, this wonderful theatrical production truly found its own unique voice.

And me? Not a twee feeling to be felt (although the nostalgia for last night is real).

Little Women is at HOME Mcr until 23 December 2023.

For full cast and crew details, and to buy tickets, visit https://homemcr.org/production/little-women/.