Portrait of sisterhood: Beloved classic still resonates in Northlight’s spirited ‘Little Women’

“Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” — 3 stars

Northlight Theatre’s buoyant premiere of “Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” incorporates two wonderfully effective framing devices.

One comes courtesy of playwright Lauren Gunderson, who tips her hat to Alcott by bookending the play with the novelist herself, wearing a red velvet “scribbling cap” and played by the charismatic Tyler Meredith, who also takes on the role of Alcott's fictional counterpart: protofeminist Jo March.

Designer Sotirios Livaditis provides another: a literal, gilded frame set slightly askew. It is an ideal visual for director Georgette Verdin's carefully considered, affectionate staging of the beloved, 19th century, coming-of-age tale about four New England sisters.

Alcott's semiautobiographical novel, like Gunderson's play, is a portrait of sisterhood. But it is also a portrait of an artist. Correction, artists.

The narrative centers on Alcott stand-in Jo March, an aspiring writer who fights for personal autonomy. But she isn’t the family's only burgeoning artist. Oldest sister Meg (Janyce Caraballo) acts; Beth (a nicely understated Demetra Dee) plays piano; and youngest sister Amy (Yourtana Sulaiman) paints (a nod to Alcott's youngest sister Abigail May Alcott Nieriker, a successful painter).

They’re inspired by ahead-of-her-time Marmee (Lucy Carapetyan), who encourages Jo to “write, my girl, gain self-possession.” Best friend and would-be suitor Laurie (a most personable John Drea) also supports their efforts, as does curmudgeonly Aunt March (Carapetyan, whose performance is accompanied by a clever bit of stagecraft).

Most impressive is the extent to which these young women nurture, sustain and encourage each other's pursuits, artistic and otherwise. At a time when women still struggle for self-determination, that message resonates.

While the gently humorous “Louisa May Alcott's Little Women” remains faithful to the novel, Gunderson contemporizes characters' language and attitudes. Case in point: Jo’s rejection of Laurie's marriage proposal so she can “paddle her own canoe” as a “literary spinster.”

“It’s about my autonomy,” explains Meredith’s fiercely independent, imminently likable Jo, who values her liberty too much to relinquish it to a man.

Meredith and Drea are delightful. It helps that their characters are the play’s most fully realized. The others lack dimension. Verdin’s actors are certainly skilled, but they're limited having to play a type: gentle Beth, self-absorbed Amy, levelheaded Meg, perceptive Marmee, whose confession about struggling to control her temper suggests another side of the March family matriarch. Rounding out the cast is Erik Hellman, who plays Meg’s husband John, and Jo’s soulmate Friedrich.

Except for a few overly precious moments (including a bit with umbrellas late in the play), Verdin’s direction is lively and reflects attention to detail.

Note marketing director Mara Mihlfried's “Little Women” dolls, which accompanied the release of the 1949 film, and are included among Nicolas Bartleson’s props. Nice touch.

Designer Raquel Adorno puts a sly spin on the period costumes, which feature hand-painted floral designs (echoed in Livaditis’ set) that serve as “an homage to the Alcotts’ support of their daughters’ artistic sensibilities,” according to Verdin. The embellishments also suggest connection and unity between the March family and those close to them.

Note also, Adorno's injection of whimsy via the deliciously unconventional design of the March sisters’ footwear. All except Jo, who favors sturdy shoes and harem pants, which she wears under a skirt hemmed slightly higher than her sisters’.

Lastly, Livaditis earns kudos for his unfussy, autumnal set consisting of apple trees, piles of books, a wheeled writing desk and a few other set pieces all located beneath a model of the Alcott family home. Minimal but effective, it sparks the imagination. Bravo.

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Location: Northlight Theatre, North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, 9501 Skokie Blvd., Skokie (847) 673-6300

Showtimes: 1 and 7:30 p.m. Wednesday; 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Friday; 2:30 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; 2:30 p.m. Sunday through Jan. 5. 1 p.m. Dec. 26, 7:30 p.m. Dec. 29. No shows Dec. 25 or Jan. 1.

Tickets: $49-$91

Running time: About 2 hours, 20 minutes, with intermission

Rating: For all ages