On the surface, A Nice Girl Like Me seems to fit into that curious late Sixties sub-genre of films about sexually precocious young girls – everything from Lolita and Candy (both of which are referenced as comparisons in the very misleadingly-packaged tie-in edition of Anne Piper’s original novel Marry at Leisure) to Twinky and Baby Love. Films that you can’t imagine anyone daring to make today. And to a degree, you’d be right to put the film into that group of movies, particularly when you think how disparate in style and approach they are. But in reality, the film doesn’t seem to belong with the others, even if its main character is a precocious young woman who mixes naiveté and knowingness. It’s a much more charming story than that which drives most of the movies that it seems loosely related to, and the central character is less a manipulator than a hopeless romantic and idealist. It’s probably closer in feel to Georgie Girl than anything else, occupying a curious space between swinging Sixties liberation and the grim realities of the kitchen sink drama. Made in 1969, it feels like it represents the end of the old world and the start of a new age when the moral certainties of the past quickly crumbled.
Candy (Barbara Ferris) is plucked from her boarding school after her father’s death, and sent to live with a pair of maiden aunts. Fearing that she will end up just like them, she takes advantage of her inheritance and heads off to Paris, ostensibly to better her French. There, she’s seduced (or so it seems) by a cartoon beatnik, Pierre (Christopher Guinee), who feigns boredom while quoting terrible poetry before having his way with her. Returning to England, she takes up residence in her father’s London home, where caretaker Savage (Harry Andrews) has remained in residence. She confesses to Savage that she is pregnant, but the twist here is that she has become pregnant deliberately, wanting a child to complete her family. Savage sees her through the pregnancy and the odd couple raise the child, Valentine.
Candy then takes a two-week holiday in Venice, where she meets feckless American draft dodger Ed (William Hinnant) and spends a couple of days – and nights – with him before returning home, having suggested marriage but been – understandably – rebuffed. But she doesn’t arrive back in London empty-handed – a woman thrusts a baby into her arms at the train station and Candy decides to raise this child too (the rules surrounding adoption being rather looser back then, it would seem) despite the fury of Savage, who rightly warns her that she’s ruining her life. As the ‘family’ starts to run out of money, Candy finds that her brief dalliance in Venice has left her pregnant again, putting even more pressure on the finances. Will she be forced into a marriage of convenience with one-eyed diplomat and former childhood neighbour Freddie (James Villiers) in order to save her family?
That A Nice Girl Like Me would have once been seen as daring and scandalous is a sign of how much society has changed in forty years – I very much doubt anyone would be especially shocked these days (apart perhaps from the Daily Express) at the tale of a young woman who gets pregnant outside marriage not once but twice, and with different fathers to boot! But robbed of its sense of scandal, the film becomes a lot more entertaining – there is no moral judgement at work for (most) audiences and we can simply enjoy the adventures of a charming, if misguided young woman. It’s especially admirable that a film made at a time when there were still Homes for Unwed Mothers in operation treats its central character with such affection. Candy might be rather naïve – and the film doesn’t try to make her out to be a saint by any means – but she’s also genuinely lovely and well-meaning. Her search for love might be a little desperate (especially as she doesn’t seem to mind if it is romantic or maternal love) but there’s no doubting her sincerity. She is honest to her own beliefs throughout.
As Candy, Ferris is perfectly cast, mixing innocence with a knowing awareness that is constantly entertaining, and she alone keeps the film from slipping into melodrama. Her relationship with Savage also seems authentic and develops naturally; while you imagine that the pair might eventually become a real couple, the film doesn’t linger on scenes of unrequited longing and is all the better for it (ironically, the idea of the age-gap relationship is probably more shocking for modern audiences than the multiple children). Andrews seems to be relishing a chance to play something different from the usual gruff military men that stereotyped his career at the time and he gives a fine, subtle performance.
Director Desmond Davis might be best known in some circles for Clash of the Titans, but he always seemed more at home with 1960s kitchen sink dramas – A Nice Girl Like Me was made in the wake of Girl with Green Eyes and Smashing Time, two other Davis films about the adventures of young women in Swinging London. Here, he gives the film a light touch that stops it from becoming maudlin during what might have been dark moments. The film has a curious soft focus look that I’ll assume is deliberate and it adds to the whimsical, urban fairy tale feel. Some might find it a little too twee and ethereal – certainly, if you want a gritty drama about the plight of single mothers, this isn’t the film to watch. Not that the film is without its moments of pathos – particularly those involving Freddie, who is just as lost as Candy and would almost certainly find their marriage a trap once the relief of finding someone had worn off. Villiers brings a sense of pathetic vulnerability to his character, who initially seems a chinless wonder but eventually ends up as the most tragic character in the film.
A Nice Girl Like Me manages to effectively balance comedy, tragedy, realism and romance – not an easy juggling act as we can see from all the films that get it wrong. It manages to be a period piece that still feels relevant, and that’s not a bad trick to pull off.
DAVID FLINT
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