At some point, we have all heard “Georgy Girl” by The Seekers, which stands as one of the most cherished and distinctive songs of the period fondly known as the Swinging Sixties. The lyrics “Swinging down the street so fancy-free/nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there inside you” perfectly encapsulates the carefree lives of the young, working-class of Britain, the people too young to remember the Second World War, and thus exist in a world that is more defined by style and panache, rather than the fervent worries of prior generations – but yet there is still a sense of longing and a lust for some purpose that we often find in the art produced during this era. The song was popularized as the theme song for the namesake film, written by Margaret Foster and Peter Nichols (based on the novel by the former) and directed by Silvio Narizzano, who captures the spirit of the novel and the song that was inspired by it through telling the story of a young woman who spends her days leaping through the London streets she calls home, oscillating between the high society manor in which she is employed as music and dance teacher, and the small bohemian apartment she shares with her cosmopolitan roommate. For Georgy, life is good and the living is easy – or rather, this is what she genuinely believes until she comes to realize there is so much more to life than just living day-to-day, seven days a week. This is all packaged so beautifully in this simple but effective comedy that acts as a strong character study of an entire generation, caught between adolescence and adulthood, doing whatever is possible to negotiate the realities of a society they are seemingly so hesitant to join, despite realizing it is nothing if not an inevitability that they will one day have to start paying attention to the world around them.

Georgy Girl is a film that is commonly categorized with the sub-genre of kitchen sink realism, the movement that gradually sprouted from the social and economic turmoil that occurred as a direct aftermath of the Second World War, with radical changes to the culture, and the growing hostility between generations, leading to many artists (the self-professed “angry young men”) to produce works that demonstrated the gradual deterioration of British society. However, while it does bear many of these similarities, there’s a certain optimism to Georgy Girl that prevents it from being entirely adherent, almost acting as a more optimistic counterpart to the works being produced by the likes of Tony Richardson and Karel Reisz, who were a lot more cynical in their perspective of the direction in which their country, and by extension the entire world, was heading. However, while it is certainly a comedy (and there are very few moments in which this is in doubt), there’s an underlying sadness to the film that adds complexity to an already riveting story. On the surface, it would seem like this film is about a young woman just aimlessly wandering through life, avoiding the status quo, which she has always felt is far too restricting for someone as fiercely independent as her – but for every free-spirited young adult we encounter, there is bound to be some form of internal conflict, especially in an era that brought such immense change as the 1960s. Not too many films manage to find the humour in such tumultuous situations, and while Georgy Girl is not too preoccupied with exploring the very specific socio-political machinations that were happening concurrently to the cultural renaissance that we see depicted here, there are certain shades of complexity that we see emerging throughout the film.

It may be slightly more difficult to get a grasp on Georgy Girl as a result of its more unconventional structure. There is a  musicality that informs much of what this film is aiming to convey, and Narizzano carefully explores this world with a very distinct rhythm. Much of the film moves at a breakneck speed, and the audience isn’t given much opportunity to ease into this story, with the first few scenes entailing us leaping onto the wavelength and holding on until we can make sense of what we see transpiring. It often feels as if the film was written like a classic screwball comedy, with rapid-fire dialogue and a number of short and punchy scenes existing in between longer ones in order to keep the pace moving – and while it may initially be confusing, we can immediately tell there is something extraordinarily special about the film and its narrative approach. In terms of the story, Georgy Girl is very simple, almost to the point where it borders on conventional, since we’ve seen many similar premises produced over the years. Where it differs is in the execution, with much of the story being filtered through a more unorthodox lens, which could lead to it being perceived as having a much more jarring tone. It all seems very intentional – the director was clearly aiming at capturing a specific rhythm, and the film takes the form of a stream-of-consciousness narrative, a series of moments tied together by emotion rather than logic. As a viewer, we’re asked to surrender to the film and just go along with its very peculiar method of telling the story, leading it to be a film defined more by its atmosphere, which is something that would be perfected in later years as independent cinema appropriated the fact that a work of art does not need to follow a particular storytelling structure in order to be effective, as was proven in nearly every scene of this film.

In terms of the titular character, Georgy Girl had a lot of promise when it came to casting Lynn Redgrave in the role. Part of an acting dynasty that has spanned many generations, Redgrave was in a good position to play the role, particularly as a replacement for her older sister, who withdrew from the project for inexplicable reasons. In many ways, this was a good decision, since this is a star-making performance if there ever was one – Redgrave is such a magnetic actress, and her ability to draw out every detail in this character is simply staggering. Much of the film entails her being more of a reactionary than anything else, but it becomes increasingly clear that she is the heart of the film, the one sane person amongst a group of eccentrics driven by their own arrogance and desires. Supporting her are a terrific cast that includes the legendary James Mason in one of his most interesting roles, a wealthy older man in a failing marriage who decides to pursue the titular character in the same way a businessman would chase after a deal. Alan Bates is as dashing as ever as the other long interest, a man who seemingly exists on an entirely different plane when it comes to his overt masculinity. However, the most substantial role outside of the one played by Redgrave comes in the form of Charlotte Rampling, whose incredible performance is the anchor for the entire film. There were moments where it seemed like the film genuinely wanted to redirect to be more focused on Rampling’s character, especially since the interplay between Georgy and Meredith are the most compelling parts of the film. In a story that depends on chemistry, it seems odd that the most authentic connection between two actors would be secondary to a less interesting portrayal of romance, which is lovely, but certainly not on the same level as what we could see when Redgrave and Rampling were sharing the screen. Georgy Girl is primarily a character study, so it only makes sense that each of the actors would be doing very strong work, since without their efforts, the film would barely register.

Few films have been able to capture the vibrant spirit of the 1960s quite as well as Georgy Girl, which thrives on its ability to weave together sights and sounds into a single unforgettable series of moments that reflect a very particular era in recent history – and this remains true for both the films that were produced during this era (in which there is first-hand experience) or those that revisit the time, looking back fondly on this diverse and exciting moment in the past. Many of us wish we could go back to this period, where the music was at its best, and the world was finally starting to feel a lot more connected, one of the few positive aspects of the many international issues that came about around this time. This film doesn’t explore every aspect, but it does carry with it a deeply sentimental sense of humour, which allows for the director to take a source novel that focuses on a flighty young woman, and craft something out of the raw material that is both stunning and very compelling. There are an abundance of details that we can find throughout this film, and whether it is in the fantastic performances from the entire cast, or the strong writing that allows every word to feel absolutely essential, Georgy Girl is a lovely film. Upbeat, humorous and often subversive in ways we may not expect, it pays tribute to the Swinging Sixties in a way that feels increasingly more genuine and insightful than many other films produced during this era. The perfect combination of sobering social drama about class issues, and charming romantic comedy about a young woman navigating the early years of her adulthood, the film is a lovable romp with a lot of gravitas, which leads to a story that is both thought-provoking and thoroughly entertaining.