Mark Schroeder’s Movie Reviews

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

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Grade: B

As far as Young Adult books go, Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. – now a movie – is an OG. [I try very hard to respect punctuation and other syntax in movie titles. Wouldn’t want to leave out that period at the end.] It opens with Blume reading a passage from it for a small audience. It goes on long enough to have made me wonder if there was going to BE a movie, which means it was enough time to set a tone. It’s a fun appetizer.

Even if you haven’t read the book (which I never did, for some reason), Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. will get you up to speed quickly and easily, thanks to this warm sunny accessible film. Our narrator and protagonist is Margaret, an almost-12-year-old 6th grader. She’s an only child who has lived in New York City her whole life up to this point, where she is unexpectedly uprooted to a New Jersey suburb. People who remember 1970 (the year it takes place, and the year the book came out) will enjoy playing Name That Tune. This is a strong soundtrack. There’s a recurring musical piece in the score, during the happy moments, that is so melodic and skillfully composed, it could have been a Beach Boys or Byrds song. The dirge-like piano in the sad parts is cut from the same cloth as American Beauty.

Margaret rapidly but reluctantly makes new friends, and is even invited into an exclusive 3-girl clique, led by classmate Nancy, who lives in “the bigger house up the street.” Nancy is a bit shallow and surfaced, but gets humbled in a poignant scene where it’s revealed that she lied to Margaret about something. The way this is handled is just right, without belaboring it. A pastime this clique has is rhythmically sticking out their chests while chanting “We must! We must! We must increase our bust!” – because they are impatient to start “growing.” Maybe some women who see the film can let me know if they did that.

This is the kind of movie that is seen and experienced through the eyes of one character. Margaret is in every scene. A downside to a film like this is that the narrative can be a bit limited. Sometimes, I wanted to be privy to more conversations and bits between characters that didn’t involve our main one. Thankfully, they find a way to make that happen a couple times. The actors step up to the plate with wonderful commitment and chemistry. When people are dancing, bantering, and laughing so hard they can’t talk, that’s when Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. is allowed to let loose and breathe freshness, in the midst of a somewhat boxy, episodic story. Benny Safdie and Rachel McAdams are the parents, Kathy Bates is the grandmother, and a star-making turn comes from young Abby Ryder Fortson as Margaret.

I would have flipped the order of the last two scenes – ending it with the scene in the yard, instead of the one in the bathroom. I get why the last scene is there (and I wouldn’t want it to not be there), but it makes for a jarringly abrupt ending. It seemed like an unusual basket to put all your eggs in and choose to finish your movie with. I felt there was some misplaced cheer, and concluding in the yard would have expanded the scope, with something EVERYBODY can relate to. In a movie that otherwise does a fine job of making everyone feel included, I felt left out and sad.

I know you’re there, readers. It’s me, a person who is definitely not in the target audience, but still had an enjoyable time. We know who it’s really for, but for the most part, it manages to let everyone else in, too.

Grade: B

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2 responses to “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.”

  1. […] does a great job making everyone feel included, more so than Barbie and Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. Watching it, I never felt dismissed, dissed, or left out. I felt completely welcomed and invited […]

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  2. […] last few years, appearing in Happy Gilmore 2, Oppenheimer, Licorice Pizza, Pieces of a Woman, and Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. Whatever he’s trying to do here with The Smashing Machine left me so empty, and couldn’t be […]

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