Directing: A-
Acting: A-
Writing: A-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B+

It’s a bit ironic that Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret is the most “godly” film I have truly enjoyed since I actually considered myself religious, over two and a half decades ago—and yet, it’s also quite pointedly neutral on religion. The trailers before the film advertised so many “inspirational” films about the power of faith, I almost began to get worried. Thankfully, I already knew how critically acclaimed this movie is. Frankly, without knowing that, I’d never have had any interest.

I suppose I might have, had I ever read the widely and long beloved “middle-grade novel” by Judy Blume. But, unlike the vast majority of the people reviewing this movie and comparing it favorably to the source material, I have not. I did not even realize, until seeing this film, how much of a massive pop culture blind spot it really was for me. When the eleven-year-old girls started chanting, “We must! We must! We must increase our bust!”, it brought back memories of my mother playing around, and reciting the same chant when I was a teenager. I never had any idea that it was a reference to a pop culture touchstone originally published in 1970 (when my mother was 18, incidentally).

Which is to say, I can only judge this film on its own merits—the only way any film should be judged, even if it’s been adapted from a beloved novel. I really couldn’t tell you how great an “adaptation” it is. I can only tell you that it stands firmly on its own, that this would be an objectively wonderful film even if it were released exactly as is without the novel ever having been published. The only disappointing thing about it is how it was never made earlier.

It could be argued that nothing is more important in film than tone—not just establishing tone, but nailing it, and maintaining it. This has to be the greatest compliment that can be given to Kelly Fremon Craig (The Edge of Seventeen), the 42-year-old director who also co-wrote the script with the now-85-year-old Judy Blume. The tone here is so singular, in fact, that I struggle with the words to define it. Dramedy with a touch of sweetness, I suppose?

Movies like this typically have an uncomfortable sort of earnestness, or are too treacly. Neither is the case here. It’s not even especially nostalgic in tone, even though it’s clearly pleasing many audiences who are nostalgic about the novel. Its tone is fairly matter-of-fact and straightforward, which effectively makes it feel like how good it really is sneaks up on you.

The decision to set the film in the year in which the book was published (1970) was both crucial and correct. Eleven-year-old Margaret spends so much time speaking directly to God, much of it praying for relatably trivial things like a successful party or for her breasts to finally grow in, her innocence just wouldn’t play as well in the present-day, with kids wildly worldly, informed, sophisticated and even cynical by comparison. Yes, even at age eleven. Margaret’s rites of passage may be universal, but they get greater purity in the telling without the distractions of modern trappings.

Margaret is played by Abby Ryder Fortson, who is 15 now but was 13 during production, playing 11. I want to single her out as a phenomenal youmg performer, but I was particularly stuck by the performances of all the kids in this movie. They’re all so good, it’s a bit stunning. There once was a time when child actors were so reliably stilted on film, it was easy to assume getting great, nuanced acting out of children was impossible. I don’t know what changed, casting tactics or directing styles or what, but those days are clearly over. Bad child acting is actually the exception these days, and Are You There, God? is like the poster film for the new era.

But I haven’t even gotten to what is my favorite thing about this movie, and that is the specificity of a young girl “becoming a woman”—without trauma. Margaret is neither ignorant about nor afraid of getting her period; on the contrary, she’s eager and excited about it. She and her friends chat openly about it. She has a perfectly healthy relationship with her mother (a well-cast Rachel McAdams) with whom she can talk about it all openly: her desire to get a bra, the inevitable moment when her period comes. I can’t speak to the common experiences of women and girls with these things in reality, obviously, but I certainly know how these things are typically depicted onscreen. This film stands apart.

And sure, there’s drama here, but none of it is tied directly to a young girl’s body changing in ways that are predictable yet feel unpredictable. Instead, the drama is about the lessons learned in kindness and friendship—particularly between girls—and, somewhat pointedly, the tensions between different religions.

The religious aspect fascinates me, and I had to look up the plot of the book to see if it was as significant there (it was). Margaret prays frequently to a god she doesn’t know how to categorize—which, clearly, is an intentional theme—because her parents have deliberately chosen not to raise her with any faith. Her parents, her mother having been raised by conservative Christian parents and her father (Benny Safdie) have been raised by Jewish ones, are both so disillusioned with their religion that they think the’ve done Margaret a favor, but it leaves Margaret feeling somewhat aimless.

With the exception of hardline extremists from either side, these explorations of religion make Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. a movie with unusually broad appeal, particularly in an era with increasingly niche tastes. This is a movie that can easily entertain the pious and the atheist alike. It might work only slightly better than either on the agnostic. There’s a sequence in which Margaret’s estranged grandparents make a surprise visit, and her paternal grandmother (Kathy Bates, an always welcome presence) also shows up, the resulting tension erupting into an argument that is the most contrived moment in the film, a little too neatly resolved.

Not that it has to be anything different, given that this film’s real target audience would be kids around Margaret’s age, or maybe just a tad older, with some experiences behind them to make Margaret more relatable. That is clearly the power of this story, though, and the beauty of stories about adolescents that work this well: it doesn’t matter how old you are, if you can remember being that age, it really hits home.

*Spoiler alert! They aren’t just reading it for the articles!*

Overall: A-