a love letter to Greta Gerwig

by Lauren Deaton

To know me is to know how deeply I love Greta Gerwig; and while this might seem dramatic, she is my hero, my inspiration, and my favorite writer/director in the entire world. A corner of my dorm room is carefully adorned with my Lady Bird and Little Women posters, a piece of the wall above my desk holds a picture of Greta and my favorite monologue from Frances Ha. In other words, if I ever go through a day and I don’t mention Greta Gerwig there’s probably something seriously wrong with me. 

First Encounter

The first time I watched Lady Bird I was sitting alone in my room, huddled in my bed with my computer next to me and a pile of blankets on top of me. Upon first watch it wasn’t the mother-daughter relationship I was hyper-fixated on (although this would come to be incredibly important to me and be the subject of my college essay), it was Julie and Lady Bird’s relationship. I remember sitting there, staring at the screen with tears rolling down my face, feeling like I’d been struck in the heart as Lady Bird showed up at Julie’s house instead of prom, and Julie looked at her and said, “Some people just aren’t built happy.” Never, in my entire life, had I found myself feeling so fully seen by a film. In this one moment, of tender reconciliation between teenage girls and the deeper understanding of emotional health and mental states, it felt like my soul had been stared into. This was the definitive moment I fell in love with Greta Gerwig’s work. 

The Little Women Phenomenon

Growing up, there were a lot of days I ended up staying home sick from school for one reason or another; and many of these days meant my mom staying home with me, us curled up on the couch or in her bed watching the 1994 version of Little Women. Some of my sharpest and most treasured memories from childhood involve watching that movie with my mom, from Amy’s clothespinned nose, to the infamous snow day in the film, there’s so much I so deeply cherish. So, in 2019, when Greta Gerwig released her version of Little Women, it was love at first sight. I was head over heels for the film the moment it began, the color palette, the incredible cast and performances, the beauty of the screenplay and the film as a whole, all of it completely captivated me. The tenderness and earnestness in the girl’s love for each other, the hillside confession, all of Amy’s monologues, it was beautiful and right in front of me, and it was mine. 

Whenever I tell people about my story with Little Women now I always tell them that it’s like the 1994 version was for my mom, and the 2019 version was for me, and the story itself was for us to share. 

In Search of More

After quickly falling in love with Little Women, Greta Gerwig became a central point of my interests and my life. I grew quickly interested in the way she writes, the specific vigor and involvedness with which she directs, and even in the roles she’s acted in. When I first watched Frances Ha I had no idea Gerwig had any writing credit on it, I thought she was just the main actress. In reality, Gerwig co-wrote the film with her partner Noah Baumbach while also starring in the film. The film, which is essentially about a struggling 27 year old dancer, is really about female friendship above all else–as basically all of Gerwig’s work is. There’s this moment in the film, where Frances (Gerwig’s character) delivers this monologue about how she wants to be in love, and she says, “...it’s that thing when you’re with someone…and you love them and they know it…and they love you and you know it…but it’s a party…and you’re both talking to other people…and you’re laughing and shining…and you look across the room…and catch each other’s eyes…but-but not because you’re possessive…or it’s precisely sexual…but because…that is your person in this life.” And although Frances is talking about what she wants out of romantic love, she’s also talking about what she already has found in her incredible friendship with her best friend. 

At its core, Gerwig’s work is about feminine love. About the ways women love each other, the deep tenderness of it all, the fierceness of it, the sheer depth and terror of it. 

Lovely (Difficult) Womanhood

Gerwig’s work resonates so deeply with me because she allows her women to take up space–they are embodied people, messy, confused, a little lost, but lovable nonetheless. Gerwig’s characters feel like people–like someone you know, or in some cases someone you are. They are believable, and broken-hearted, and full of life. You scream, and cry, and rejoice along with them, it feels as if they could walk through the door at any moment. 

For me, no one’s work has ever shook me quite as deeply as Greta Gerwig’s; it’s like her work is reflecting pieces of my own mind back to me. The empathy, care, and pieces of herself that she pours into her work just feel so tangible and evident. I love Greta because she makes me feel seen; watching her films feels like being sure I have a place in the world, like it’s okay for me to take up space. I am so utterly thankful for her, for her work, for the way it’s woven its way into my life and changed it for the better. I am who I am in part because of Greta Gerwig. I may not be a poet, but Greta definitely is. Greta, I love you. Thank you for everything. 

Edited by Kate Castello