Gidget has a bittersweet tenor that is palpable within its surface appeal of breezy fifties suburban sensibility. Seductive in its thematic simplicity, Gidget is no less powerful as an exploration of the raw nerves and formless discontent of youth as it comes to a head with the tonic blend of peer pressure, social expectations, and inner yearnings.
Gidget makes less concessions that it appears and it avoids tying a bow around the self conscious, restless aspirations of the mid century teenage girl. Though candy toned in visual composition its true silhouette is one of well proportioned darkness.
Gidget’s cheery, precocious mien can’t quite hack it in the end and watching her composure wither away feels remarkably impactful considering the ostensibly lighthearted tone of the film. Gidget’s affiliation with the surfer crowd was always tenuous and we duly note this with a dose of restrained discomfort. Despite her girlish posturing, or perhaps in spite of it, she is always at a remove from the rest and her overzealous bid for approval reminds us of how rigid gender roles were, and continue to be.
If you take the film at surface value, then you could argue that the film caricatures girlish longing. But I disagree. I see Gidget’s awkward, fumbling preoccupation with Moondog, the object of her affections, as a valuable tool. It works as a kind of performative euphemism, a sugarcoated presentation, of the oft-unpleasant psychological toll that a crush has on a young woman. I think her conspicuous crushing is less of a spectacle, and more of an invitation to explore the nature of how young women mediate their relationship with attraction in the context of complex gender relations. In the final estimation Gidget has a bittersweet overlay, capable of conjuring up our own intimate apprehensions and unsatisfied longings.
