GEORGY GIRL - DVD review

Hey there, Georgy Girl, swingin' down the street so fancy-free,
Nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there . . . inside you

A British folk group, The Seekers, crossed over into pop to produce the Oscar-nominated title song from this 1966 black-and-white comedy of bad manners, where things are far from black and white. In part, the tune suits the film perfectly. But it's also partly misleading.

You're always window shopping but never stopping to buy.
So shed those dowdy feathers and fly . . . a little bit.

This is the film that made Lynn Redgrave a star, but the Cinderella transformation that the song implies isn't anywhere near what you get in the film. If you've seen "A League of Their Own" and homely outfielder Marla, you've got an image that pretty much matches the physical appearance and personality of Georgy—a Plain Jane introvert with the nurturing heart of an extrovert that only needs confidence to bring it out. But Georgy is dowdy at the beginning of the film, and dowdy at the end. She wears sweaters that are too baggy and generally dresses like a cross between Edith Bunker and a rumpled Humphrey Bogart. Feminine, she's not.

Three years after her debut in "Tom Jones," Redgrave embraced the offbeat role of Georgy with gusto, and received an Oscar nomination for her trouble. Georgy is a slightly chunky ("She's like some enormous lorry driver") 22-year-old Londoner who works as a children's dance instructor and is herself still backwardly innocent and childlike. Meanwhile, her roommate, the mod-dressing Meredith (Charlotte Rampling, in her first film) turns heads wherever they go. "I feel like a brontosaurus when she's about," Georgy sighs. But partly that's because she doesn't have a famed fashion designer in charge of putting her look together. Mary Quant, the woman responsible for the mod fashion craze, designed all of Rampling's outfits, and if I have one huge regret for this film, it's that it wasn't shot in color so we could savor the full force of dazzling fashions that were so image-powerful that they were copied across "the pond."

"Georgy Girl" is as offbeat a romantic comedy as you'll see, and as off the beaten track as it gets. Oh, sure, there's a formula. But it gets twisted Chubby Checker-style into something barely recognizable. The film has an unpredictability of pacing and cinematography as well, with zany and manic moments that all but perfectly capture the mood swings of its characters and the let-it-all-hang-out feel of the era.

This is basically a four-character film, with shifting triangles of interest. Meredith is a moody and self-absorbed violinist who only smiles when she senses the eyes of a man falling upon her, bathing her in a lustful light. She's out the door in a minute and (though there's no on-camera sex in the film) out of her dress almost as quickly as you can dial her number. Her latest sackmate is the fun-loving Jos (Alan Bates), who acts unselfconsciously in the moment, however he might feel. And half the time he feels like including sad-sack roommate Georgy, whom he calls "Fish Face."

When Meredith gets pregnant again and decides to keep this one, she does so for one reason: she has a whim for change. Though Meredith hates the notion of having a baby, she uses it to coerce Jos into marrying her, just so she can shake up her life a bit. But she goes on playing with the symphony while Georgy and Jos cuddle-up on the sofa reading Dr. Spock. Even when the baby is born, Meredith refuses to pick her up and refers to the baby as "that hideous thing" and "it." Rather than put the baby up for adoption, she gives her to Georgy and hops in a car with the next John. Anything to relieve boredom.

Rampling is deliciously bitchy as Meredith, and plays the part with just the right tone so that the audience can still laugh at her character's behavior rather than feeling so outraged that they want to reach for the phone and dial Family Services. And Bates as Jos is just as fun, a dedicated follower of fashion who approaches everything with zest. When he marries Meredith at the city magistrate's, their mournful, stunned party is a sharp contrast to those that appear on the steps for pictures and rice-throwing. These two simply stand at the top of the steps, Meredith holding a cigarette, until Georgy tosses confetti in their faces and pushes them together for a kiss. Then it's a laugh-filled romp home in the rain, kicking up their heels Gene Kelly-style. That's the type of emotional ups and downs and the type of scene that you get in "Georgy Girl"—sudden rains that alter the mood and trajectory of the plot.

James Mason was nominated for an Oscar for his portrayal of the rich Mr. Leamington, who employed Georgy's parents as servants and came to think of her "as a daughter." That feeling changes, though, as he proposes that the grown-up Georgy become his mistress. Leamington is the wild card in the mix, surfacing just enough to make the triangle interesting, because Jos also goes after Georgy. And the way we interpret this comedy of Sixties' social mores is largely shaped by the soundtrack and cinematography. From playful harpsichord riffs to note-bending kettle drum rolls, the background music underscores the comedy, as does Ken Higgins' cinematography, which is equally playful. There are sharp up-angle shots, tilting cameras, and in-your-face extreme photo booth style close-ups that subvert any seriousness and also reinforce the sense of the decade as being a flighty, impulsive, and fancy-free one.

Video: The film is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, remastered in High Definition. Though the picture quality is pretty good, it's not nearly as pristine as some black-and-white prints from the Sixties. There are plenty of small flickers caused by dirt on the original negative, but thankfully they're unobtrusive.

Audio: The Dolby Digital 2.0 soundtrack sounds great when music and musical Foley effects kick in, but there's an ever-so-slightly flat quality to the sound when dialogue predominates. As with the video quality, though, it's not so obvious as to be annoying.

Extras: There are no extras.

Bottom Line: If you were to come up with a roster of films that typified the Sixties, "Georgy Girl" would make the list. While it's by no means a flawless classic—it's really light entertainment, you know—the cinematography and costumes scream MOD in fun ways. And yet, this character-rich film is still capable of eliciting laughter nearly 40 years after Carnaby St. fashions have gone out of style.