Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

Rating: PG-13
Runtime: 1 hour, 45 minutes
Director: Kelly Fremon Craig

Quick Impressions:
I went in so suspicious of this movie. I couldn’t help it. Judy Blume’s novel Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret is an enduring classic for a reason. It’s such a wonderful book that feels relevant, immediate, and real no matter how many decades pass. It’s my favorite Judy Blume novel. My mom read it aloud to me when I was about Margaret’s age, circa 1990. She was reading it for the first time, too, and both of us were surprised about how much we connected to the story. (In fact, sometimes I remember bra shopping with Margaret’s mom, being there when Nancy got her first period, or chanting, “We must, we must, we must increase our bust.” Then I have to remind myself, “That’s not your life, Sarah.”) (I’m a bit like Homer Simpson at times, remembering myself in classic works of fiction.) The book directly addresses topics that are deep and real, essential aspects of the human person—puberty and religion—in a realistic, accessible, relatably humorous way. It’s very hard to do that well, especially when you’re writing for juvenile audiences. Often when a book would truly reach young readers, overly concerned adults make sure it never reaches them. (I’m also a big fan of Blume’s novel Forever. I read that as a teenager and was impressed by its frank, real, yet non-salacious look at sexuality and love. It’s hard to find books on such topics that are insightful, forthcoming, and earnest without losing their humanity and humor.)

I’ve seen so many beautiful middle grade and YA novels absolutely destroyed in their translation to the big screen, so I was worried about this one because all the trailers seemed to be taking the tack of, “At last this beloved classic is coming to theaters…” Usually that approach means they’re going to gut the whole thing of true power, and fill it up with glib, superficial nonsense, stupid jokes, and shameless materialism. That just happens so much. I was also suspicious of the casting of Kathy Bates as Margaret’s grandma because I just never imagined the character as Kathy Bates. (But I mean, I wouldn’t have since I was reading the book the same year Misery came out.) I also didn’t think Rachel McAdams seemed right. I was excited to see the movie because my daughter and I read the book together a couple of years ago, so I hoped we could watch it together as a mother/daughter activity. Later I learned that her mindset was exactly the same as mine. She enjoyed the book, loved the idea of a mother/daughter movie, but was deeply suspicious the movie was going to screw up the story by missing the point of what makes it work on the page.

But, in fact, I am thrilled to report that this new film perfectly delivers the emotional heft of Judy Blume’s novel. (In fact, it even delivers Judy Blume. I’m pretty sure I saw her out jogging!)

My daughter and I loved this so much. She spent the whole movie whispering intermittently, “That’s me! That’s you! That’s Daddy when the whole house breaks! That’s Nanny trying to get me to come to her house! That’s me and you! That’s how I make friends! This is exactly like what goes on in our house every day! That’s me and you again! That’s you! Does the person who made this know us?” just a non-stop stream of very accurate whispers. (It was a stormy night here, so the auditorium was pretty empty.) By the end of the film, we were holding hands, leaning into each other, and crying copiously. It was an immensely satisfying trip to the movie theater. And both Rachel McAdams and Kathy Bates were great! I don’t know why I doubted them. They’re fantastic in their roles. Actually, McAdams gets more of the spotlight as the mother than I remember from reading the book, probably because (even as an adult) I was focused mostly on Margaret and seeing things from her point of view. The plot thread with her parents is crushingly sad, and her inability to quit volunteering for stuff really spoke to me. Kathy Bates is magnificent, too. (I don’t know why I doubted she would be! In hindsight, I have to admit giving the role of the most glaringly sympathetic and charismatic adult character to an Oscar-winning actress is a great strategy for success.)

The Good:
My daughter decreed afterwards, “I want to see this again, but the boys won’t understand it. Maybe Daddy would appreciate the way it shows a relationship like ours, but the other boys won’t get it.”

“Because Daddy’s not like the other boys,” I teased, one of her favorite jokes.

“No,” she insisted. “They won’t understand. It won’t be the same to them. I told Gray I cried in The Fabelmans because it was just like you and me, and he was like, ‘Really?’ He doesn’t see it the same way.”

I do think my sons also love their mothers, but she’s right that this is a movie geared toward a certain audience. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book I associate more with getting your period or going bra shopping, and the movie is pretty faithful to the book. (Norman Fishbein’s name is changed to Norman Fisher, and I feel like Margaret’s mother is showcased a bit more, so that she almost becomes a co-protagonist. That seems smart because little girls who read the book grew up into women who might want to see the movie.) But the basic plot points are all intact. (The pads she uses in the movie have an adhesive strip, but in the version I read to my daughter, I think they did, too. Certainly that would be more useful to young girls watching today. I know my mom and I read the original edition and spent a long time discussing how you used to need a little belt and so forth.)

If you’re a fan of the book, I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t like this movie. And it’s great for mother/daughter bonding.

As a child, I could relate to the novel a lot because it has such universal themes and concerns relevant to anyone who has ever been a sixth-grade girl. And I was always very close to my grandma. She wasn’t Jewish, and she didn’t live in New York. A lot of the time, she lived at our house (funny because she and my dad had a relationship a lot like Darrin and Endora on Bewitched). (Come to think of it, my other grandma didn’t get along with my mom well. My parents frequently lamented that they got along well with most people so easily except for their mothers-in-law.) So I’m comfortable with a strong-willed, theatrical grandmother figure. There’s a part in this movie when Kathy Bates just stands behind them in the street and watches sadly as they drive away. It’s the opposite of Judi Dench in Belfast. She so much does not want them to go, and she’s not making a secret of that. Watching, I thought, Oh that is so something my grandma would do!

I also longed for belonging at Margaret’s age. Religion wasn’t my point of confusion, but I just kept moving so many times that I always felt a bit like a stranger, even to my own extended family. Occasionally I’d think, “It would be nice to have a big, loving Jewish family,” or, “I wish I had a big, warm Italian family,” like you see in the Olive Garden commercials. (Eventually I became Catholic.)

I identify with Margaret’s confused one-sided dialogues with God more as an adult. It’s just so hard to figure out what you should be doing in this life! At least when you’re a child, people tell you a bunch of confusing, impossible stuff to do. When you’re the parent, you have to decide how to present religion and the world to your child. (My method of, “Well here it all is! Isn’t it so weird?! You tell me!” may not be the best!)

I remember a few years ago reading a book by Pope Benedict and praying, “God, he’s so certain of what he says, but I don’t have that kind of certainty. I’m not sure I agree with him, and I’m not sure I can agree. I’m not sure I should agree. How do I know I’m even really Catholic?”

The next morning, the pope resigned. News outlets were like, “This never happens.” And I was like, “Oh no! I’m never reading pope books again!” It’s like I asked God questions but didn’t really want an answer. Prayer is such a strange endeavor. Spirituality is an inexorable and yet never fully comprehensible part of us. (At least now that I’m not trying to conceive, my periods are regular!)

I’m constantly asking myself, “Am I raising my child in the way I should be? Is our religion right for her?” I have a crisis of conscience every day. I feel like there’s been a massive paradigm shift, and I don’t know which way is up. I’m constantly confused! (My desire is to do no harm, but so many texts about religion seem to say, “Oh nothing is worst thing you can do! You did the most evil of all by doing nothing!”)

Rachel MacAdams has a line in this about how difficult life is, and that really struck a chord with me. I’m like, “Yeah!” My daughter really felt that one, too.

The whole cast of this movie is good. (I wasn’t expecting Benny Safdie to turn up as the dad. I didn’t notice him in any of the trailers, and honestly, I worried that maybe they were changing the story for the screen.)

Elle Graham looks exactly the way I visualized Nancy Wheeler when I read the book. I also think Kate MacCluggage is pretty perfect as her mom. Amari Alexis Price makes a really likable Janey. Katherine Mallen Kupferer seems so ideal as Gretchen that I feel like I’ve seen her play Gretchen before, which I know is impossible. Zack Brooks is hysterically ideal as Philip Leroy. And I liked Echo Kellum as Mr. Benedict, but I wish he had a few more lines.

Best Scene Visually:
The best visual elements in the film are the eyes of Abby Ryder Forston, the young actress who plays Margaret. (I just realized she was young Cassie in Ant-Man.) She does so much non-verbally. It’s a wonderful performance. The way she widens her eyes successfully communicates her thoughts and feelings so well. Her facial expressions alone make entire scenes work. She couldn’t be more perfect for the part. The looks on her face perfectly punctuate how familiar and relatable these situations are. I can’t imagine anyone doing it better. She reminds me so much of my daughter, not in looks but in tortured expressions.

Best Scene:
In this cinematic version, I felt the storyline of the mother’s estranged parents much more deeply than I ever have when reading the book. I always found this part of the book relatable. I saw my dad’s father once when I was six months old, and then not again until I was eleven. We did speak on the phone occasionally. But I really didn’t know him at all until he paid us a surprise visit one summer. It’s very odd to meet grandparents for the first time when you’re eleven. (His mother and his second wife were with him.) That had just happened not too long before my mom and I read the novel together. (The relatable theme was a coincidence. She just found it at the thrift store.)

In this film, I felt so bad for Margaret’s mother in this scene. I’m not sure why the full heft of that has never hit me in the book before. I’ve always felt bad for her, but I think the actresses’ emotions help me to empathize with the mother’s situation, just to feel it more.

We see that all the adults put too much pressure on Margaret here and try to speak for her, which forces her to crisis (a crisis where she ostensibly says, “I make my own choices,” but truly seems to be saying, “I love my mother.”). This is really well done.

I also really like Kathy Bates in this part of the film because even though the character is impeding a reunion with the other grandparents, she’s just so right. In many ways, she’s showing up to help her daughter-in-law and certainly to protect her granddaughter. Her behavior here also forces a situation that makes it easier for the mother to assert her own will for her own household (because it’s easier to yell partially at your “interfering” mother-in-law than just at your manipulative estranged parents who’ve been withholding their love for over a decade).

Plus this segment mentions Jeopardy! I’m always up for a good Jeopardy! reference.

Best Action Sequence:
A part of the book that has always stuck with me is the scene where Nancy gets her period. The movie dramatizes this particularly well, I think.

The Negatives:
Honestly, this may be my favorite movie of the year (which was not what I was expecting). I feel like other YA movie adaptations did half the work for it, though. (Have you seen how disappointing some movies adapted from wonderful novels are?)

What I love about this story is that Margaret is actually, earnestly seeking answers to questions that will continue to matter for the rest of her life. She has this great teacher who helps her craft a research topic that is actually useful and edifying to her. And then the answers she finds are not pat or stupid (or completely satisfying). I cannot stand it when stories pretend they’re giving you this deep, meaningful quest, and then it’s all wrapped up in a bumper sticker slogan. I hate that more than anything. It makes me want to vomit (in terror—just kidding. I also love The Simpsons.) If you’re not finding messy answers, you’re not asking the right questions.

I’ve had about enough superficiality, honestly. This movie is just such a refreshing change of pace. And it’s so relatable. As we watched Nancy first burst into the house and lead Margaret away, my daughter noted, “That’s us,” as mother and daughter exchanged a look. When they arrived in Nancy’s bedroom, my daughter decided, “This is the only way I ever make friends.” (And Nancy reminds us of one of her friends.) And then when her mother frowns anxiously at all her disastrous cooking, we exchanged glances because I have a mishap with dinner every single day that I cook. These things just kept happening. There’s a great moment when Margaret’s dad gets his dinner and sits in a folding chair because they don’t have any furniture and insists he’s marvelously content! (This is so much like my husband.) When Margaret has an awkward bit of flirting with Moose Freed (Aidan Wojtak-Hissong), I was like, “This is how I interact with people now, and I’m forty-four years old.”

The one thing I did feel bad about is not paying enough attention when my daughter started her period. I remembered my mother telling me (while reading this book) about how when she started, she thought she had cancer for two days because nobody had told her anything about periods. And I remembered when I started, of course. Then I thought, “Why am I so self-obsessed?! Why didn’t I make a bigger deal about it when my daughter started?!”

Then on the way home, my daughter started talking about how I made such a big deal about it when she started her period—for two years leading up to it, to the point that she and her friend would ask each other, “Is your mom constantly wanting to talk about changes that may happen in your body like every day?”

I remembered none of this. But one scene in this film—where Margaret’s mother is slow to reveal something—reminded me so much of when my daughter finally asked me if Santa Claus is real. (We have an outrageous amount of lore built up about him in our house. He leaves such long notes! And don’t get me started on the Easter Bunny! What a character!) I remember driving around and around the block and finally saying to her, “Well, there are many possibilities. One is that Santa is literally real and does deliver presents to children all over the world.” (Indefinite pause.) She finally prompted, “Yes, and what’s another possibility?”

We have so many awkward conversations. I remember buying her a book about gender identity and sexual orientation, and then when she asked me about something in the book, I had to admit, “I haven’t read the book yet!”

I don’t have any major points of criticism about this movie. The big drawback for me is that it makes me wish I were a better writer who could produce wholesome, edifying middle grade fiction. That’s not what I write, unfortunately.

These are not the types of performances that will win Oscars, of course. But as a literary adaptation, this film is outstanding, and it also has a lovely score by Hans Zimmer and a very fun soundtrack.

(Also, for any concerned parents who are wondering, the film does show the diagram of a penis in Gretchen’s father’s medical book, but it does not show any of the pictures in Margaret’s dad’s Playboy. We just see the girls looking at the magazine.)

Overall:
We loved Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. My daughter loved it even more than I did, and I think she’s scheming up another trip to see the movie again with my mother-in-law in the future. Now I’m excited to show her the movie Eighth Grade, so she will finally understand why I’m constantly walking around saying, “It’s gonna be lit!”