(OK, in an effort to give this blog a little rhythm and consistency, I've decided every Tuesday will be a "From the Vault" day, that is, a short essay on a movie, book, song, etc., from the past that has continuing influence. Some of the stuff will be pretty old, as in, before most of us found our way to this planet.)
I learned yesterday that Lynn Redgrave* died. She wasn't as famous as some of the other people in her family, or as outspoken, but Lynn's work was wonderful, particularly in Georgy Girl (1966).
Plain, sloppily dressed Georgy is what my mom would rather impolitely refer to as big-boned. She lives in a flat in swinging London, which actually is still working class drab, though you do kind of expect John, Paul, George, and Ringo to careen around a corner with a pack of girls in hot pursuit. Her roommate is the stylish Meredith, who happens to be pregnant by her boyfriend, Jos.
Georgy is the perpetual third wheel who suddenly gets the boy, then finds she really doesn't need the boy, thank you very much. And whether you read this as early feminism or Georgy's inability to form a relationship, it's interesting, and mildly shocking, and definitely stays with you.
Check out this trailer for the movie to get a feel for what Georgy is all about.
I love that there are book clubs popping up all over, but I think movie clubs are just as fun. Georgy Girl is one of those films you could talk to your girlfriends about for hours. Check it out!
*Lynn lost her job on the television series House Calls because, a breast-feeding mom at the time, she was fired when she brought her child to the set. Lynn sued and lost, but this makes her instantly cool in my book.