Shivi's Take: Greta Gerwig

 Shivi's Take: Greta Gerwig

Greta Gerwig, I think I love you. 

There’s just no other way to begin this. If you’ve ever watched a Greta Gerwig film, you probably understand this reaction. And if you haven’t, this is me gently (but also kind of threateningly) nudging you to step into her world. Because once you do, you’ll never see storytelling, girlhood, or even Barbie the same way again.

Hi, I’m Shivika Sharma, a film student, storyteller, and someone who gets way too emotionally attached to directors with vision. Welcome to Shivi’s Take, my space under Monologues with Movies where I reflect on the artists, films, and cinematic moments that shift something in me. Today, we’re talking about a woman who has redefined modern coming-of-age cinema. A multi-talented force who writes, directs, acts, and most importantly, feels.

Let’s start with Lady Bird (2017). I remember watching it for the first time and thinking 'wait so not all movies need to be slow paced and boring? The structure is brilliant, it flows like a memory. It doesn’t follow a neat arc but instead moves through sharp, emotionally charged moments that feel fleeting yet unforgettable. Scenes begin and end mid-thought, like how we recall life. That’s what makes it feel real. And the subtle humour? It's gold. I don’t want to spoil anything, but the first scene itself had me gasping—Lady Bird literally jumps out of a moving car during an argument with her mom. It’s unhinged and perfect (also gives some ideas).

Saoirse Ronan as Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson is flawless casting. Her character is dramatic, difficult, sensitive, and infuriating, yet you can’t help but root for her. The mother-daughter relationship, especially with Laurie Metcalf’s stunning performance, captures something painfully accurate about the way love and frustration co-exist. It’s more than just a rebellious teen narrative. It’s layered, aching, and intimate.

But here’s the thing. As much as I love Gerwig’s emotional rhythm, I sometimes wish she pushed herself beyond the safety of softness. Her visual language can be a little too clean. Even in chaos, her worlds feel a bit polished. And while that works for Lady Bird and Little Women, it created some tension in Barbie (2023), where the themes were heavy, but the treatment sometimes veered too close to being metaphorically on-the-nose or overly aesthetic. I admire her ambition, but Barbie felt, at times, caught between being a feminist satire and a commercial film trying not to scare its sponsors. It didn’t always dive as deep as it could have.

Even in Little Women (2019), which I loved for its restructured timeline and Jo’s brilliant emotional arc, there were moments where the sentimentality leaned a little too hard. Gerwig is an emotional director, which is beautiful, but sometimes it risks softening the edges of complex narratives. I don’t want her to stop being tender—I just want to see her tackle messier, riskier stories that don’t end with bows tied neatly.

Still, what I love most is seeing her behind the scenes. Greta Gerwig is a spirit. There’s something magical about how she moves on set—dancing, talking, breathing life into every shot. She’s warm, involved, and joyful, and it’s clear she loves the process as much as the final product. And she’s not just a director. She acts, she writes, she’s choreographed montages, probably colour-coded a binder or two. She’s always been multifaceted, and that’s incredibly reassuring to people like me—people trying to tell stories from every angle possible.

Greta Gerwig inspires me not because she’s perfect, but because she’s figuring it out in front of the world. She reminds me that you can be sincere, artistic, occasionally over-romantic, sometimes predictable, but still make something deeply moving. Her films might not please everyone, but they always feel. And that feeling stays. She is an inspiration for someone like me, a filmmaker who wants to tackle emotions in a raw state and make something out of it. 

So Greta, if you ever read this, thank you. For making girlhood visible. For treating feelings with dignity. For telling stories that don’t scream, yet linger.

Thankyou for reading!