Tina Gordon’s new comedy “Little” humorously begins with Skee-Lo’s hit lyrics: “I wish I was a little bit taller.” The joke is hardly subtle, but it helps set the proper tone, reminding viewers of the times they wished they were just “a little bit” more of something else.
The childhood fantasy of becoming an adult and the adulthood fantasy of returning to childhood are common themes explored in pop culture, perhaps most successfully in “Big,” the popular 1988 Tom Hanks dramedy by which “Little” is inspired.
Still, this Will Packer production carefully strays away from its origins, by way of the subjects it chooses to explore and the perfectives it seeks to validate.
“Little” tells the story of entrepreneur Jordan Sanders (Regina Hall) who unlike her ’80s parallel, begins the film as an adult. In a voice-over, she recounts the tale of her “come up,” or transformation from a relentlessly bullied but bright child to a confident tech mogul.
One could say that she has “made it” as she comfortably sits in a beautiful penthouse apartment with a closet full of spectacularly fashionable clothes. From the high throne of her ivory tower, she judges and torments all those around her — just as she was once judged and tormented in her youth. However, her reign of terror ceases when she steps on the toes of a little girl, who uses her “magic” wand to cut Jordan down a size — literally — placing the mogul back into her tormented, 13-year-old body (Marsai Martin). Needless to say, hijinks ensue.
This film represents yet another in a long string of recent modern “updates” to beloved film franchises — “Creed,” “Ocean’s 8,” and “What Men Want,” just to name a few. These films often take classic, straight-forward genre conventions, and place them within the context of perspectives not often represented on the big screen.
Fortunately, within this model, “Little” is able to achieve great and unusual success, deftly capturing the original spirit of “Big” for a new audience. Beyond simply paying homage to many of the original’s best elements, “Little” also compels its viewers to ponder the differences between the respective childhood experiences of a young black girl and young white boy. It pushes us to think about how the young black Jordan was “othered” and outcasted among her schoolmates, with whom she would never simply be able to fit in. While a young white Josh (Hanks) may have been more likely to see those around him as friends and supporters as he theoretically grew into adulthood, Jordan was perhaps more likely to see these people as enemies, unable to recover from her early ostracism.
Though none of this is explicitly stated in the film, “Little” carefully adheres to the rule of “show don’t tell,” calling our attention to its themes with just-right comedic beats. Connor (Mikey Day) — a parody of a stereotypical Silicon Valley entrepreneur — is particularly intriguing in this regard. Jokes scripted at his expense (with varied success) highlight the double standard innate within the story of his success: As a white man from a wealthy background, his struggles could never be the same ones Jordan overcame to get to this point in her life.
The film stays entertaining, but it does not neglect the fundamental question that underlies Jordan’s unique transformation: How might the trauma of a difficult childhood, and the attempt to overcome it, affect one’s development?
Martin’s turn as the 13-year-old Jordan brilliantly captures the character’s stunted maturity while simultaneously highlighting the utter absurdity of the situation. Her comedic timing is impeccable, and her presence formidable, provoking a smile every time she’s on screen. Meanwhile, Issa Rae is convincing as April, Jordan’s tortured personal assistant. Her performance as a timorous employee who slowly learns to assert herself before her uber-confident boss, elevates the pair’s undeniable “odd couple” chemistry.
Perhaps Martin’s greatest feat is her ability to make us forget that she is not an adult within a child’s body. But this may also be fitting of the 14-year-old — she herself devised the premise of the update, thereby becoming the youngest executive producer in Hollywood history. It’s not surprising that it’s Martin’s performance, aided by her two co-stars, which makes this film the entertaining ride that it is.
Despite several teachable moments,“Little” is still far from flawless. Several jokes fall flat, including one at the start that pivots on gender identity. Toward the end, the film’s message gets lost, muddled in a sea of aphorisms. Though the happy music at the film’s conclusion seems to suggest that Jordan and April have grown — Jordan physically, as she returns to her adult body — the lesson, or moral, in their journeys remains unclear.
Yet, even as “Little” falters, it manages to find value in three complex, stereotype-defying depictions of black women. In viewing these characters and comparing them to their original counterparts in “Big,” Gordon gives us a lens through which to examine the similarities and differences in our own experiences and wonder how they shape our identities.
With and despite its imperfections, “Little” is a truly entertaining and worthwhile springtime flick that will get you away from your newsfeed, while still giving you something to think about. As the characters in the film might say, it’s “black girl magic” on full display.
Grade: B+
