Platonic Love Stories: Girlfriends (1978)

Contains spoilers

I came late to Claudia Weill’s 1978 film, Girlfriends. It stood out whilst I browsed the programme for the BFI’s 2018 female friendships season. For some reason the photo caught my eye: two women emerging from a New York subway, their arms filled with grocery bags. I read the synopsis and knew I needed to see it. Although I had watched a lot of 1970s films, very few had been directed by a woman and I couldn’t recall any which focused solely on female friendship.

The photo that caught my eye. Doesn’t actually appear in the film…

There are multiple themes within the female friendship genre. Central friendships could encourage a shift into a crime (Thelma and Louise (1991) and Set It Off (1996)). They may exhibit more toxic dynamics (The Women (1939) and Me Without You (2001)). They might be a source of strength and purpose (9 to 5 (1980), Girls Trip (2017), Muriel’s Wedding (1994), Mystic Pizza (1988) and Bend it Like Beckham (2002)). I’d also make an honourable mention to Widows (2018) for having four women at the centre who are not friends. However I would argue it just enters the canon thanks to that last line by Veronica (Viola Davis) to Alice (Elizabeth Debicki), “Alice! How you been?”. Undoes me every time.

The genre also features two friends who begin to or abruptly part ways, whether from the point of view of the instigator, such as Enid (Thora Birch) in Ghost World (2001) or from that of the abandoned party such as Frances (Greta Gerwig) in Frances Ha (2012). The latter film was heavily influenced by Girlfriends. After watching Weill’s film, Gerwig (who co-wrote Frances Ha) felt it had been “made just for me”. Abandonment, perceived or otherwise, is central to both films and what makes this a compelling part of the female friendship canon is how the left-behind lady deals with it. We have seen romantic heartbreak dealt with many times on screen. What about platonic heartbreak?

Girlfriends first came into fruition when Weill applied to the American Film Institute for a $10k grant to make a short film. Having previously worked as an assistant on film sets and cutting sequences for Carl Lerner, Weill went into documentary filmmaking, shooting real people and their reactions on her Bolex camera. Girlfriends was shot using 16mm cameras and whilst the film is firmly in fiction territory, it does have a grainy aesthetic which at times feels like a nod to Weill’s previous discipline – particularly the exterior shots of 1970s New York, which are so well framed and capture a sense of the city in that moment. I wondered if Susan Seidelman was in some way influenced by Girlfriends when she made her 1982 film, Smithereens. Another slice of New York scrappiness shot on 16mm.

Weill brought on board Vicky Polon to develop their story in a script, which was initially three loosely connected stories. The first section focused on Susan (Melanie Mayron) and Anne (Anita Skinner) but she wanted to know more about them so applied for more funding and eventually raised enough to develop it into a full-length feature.

Weill introduces the friendship briefly but effectively. The opening credits show photobooth pictures of them together. Susan, an aspiring photographer, snaps Anne as she’s waking up and grumpy. Anne, who wants to be a writer, reads her poetry to Susan whilst she’s having a wee and trying to leave for work. Their new apartment, despite being a mess of unpacked boxes, feels homely. Over a beer Anne confides that she wants someone to take care of her. Susan tells her she doesn’t need anyone.

Anne’s departure is sudden and unexpected. Her boyfriend, Martin (Bob Balaban), is mentioned but unseen at this point. There are hints that she perhaps doesn’t love him but she soon announces they’re getting married and then Anne is gone. Weill didn’t have the budget to shoot the ceremony so Anne and Martin’s wedding is told through sound and photographs. Whilst a necessity, the slightly disjointed method of conveying the wedding demonstrates Susan’s isolation from her friend. We don’t hear her voice amongst the guests and she doesn’t appear in the photograph montage. As the sounds of the wedding continue, Susan is seen painting a wall red. We know this to be an act of defiance. Anne had wanted it green.

The likely reason Susan doesn’t feature in her friend’s photographs is because she’s the photographer. As a side gig to make money, Susan photographs Bar Mitzvahs and weddings for the  Rabbi Gold (the legendary Eli Wallach), all the while wanting to sell and exhibit her own work. There’s a sad irony during the scene when Susan excitedly tells Anne she’s sold a batch of her pictures and she’ll never have to do a wedding again. Anne promptly tells her she’s getting married (and will no doubt need a photographer).

Susan is bereft following the wedding and Weill deliberately tracks her journey into living alone as if she’s a heartbroken woman. After visiting Anne and Martin for the first time as a married couple (and receiving a too-large kaftan as a gift from their honeymoon), Susan sits amongst her still unpacked boxes and suddenly weeps. When arriving at a party, she reacts to being constantly asked about Anne by propositioning Eric (a pre This is Spinal Tap Christopher Guest), someone she just met. They go back to his loft, the kind which artists could afford in New York then, and she skips out on him (to encounter one of the creepiest taxi drivers ever committed to celluloid). Later in the film, Eric asks Susan why she left and her response is she “just came out of a heavy relationship”.

The rebound guy – Christopher Guest as Eric

Overcoming the loss of her friend is shown to be as tricky and emotional as the loss of a lover. Susan attempts to assuage her misery by making plans with people but they are already busy. She invites a hitchhiker, Ceil (Amy Wright), to stay with her after picking her up on the drive home from Anne and Martin’s country home. Ceil goes on to make a pass at Susan as she, not unreasonably, assumed Anne was an ex-girlfriend. Rabbi Gold, who has great affection for Susan, initiates an affair. This is abruptly halted when Susan arrives for their date and his wife and son are spiriting him away to a ballgame. Amongst all of this, Anne has announced she’s pregnant.

The failed liaison with the Rabbi is what eventually shakes Susan out of her torpor. She asks Ceil to move out as she wants to live alone. She finally begins to unpack the boxes and in a wonderfully brave act, bundles up some of her photographs and lies to get a meeting with a gallery owner. Her bravado pays off and Susan is given a show by the eccentric Beatrice (a lovely cameo by Viveca Lindfors). Eric comes back on the scene and her rebound fling develops into a romantic relationship.

Anne’s departure has allowed Susan to flourish in a way which may not have been possible had they remained flatmates. The loneliness and disappointments endured cause a layer to shed and a more mature, clearheaded Susan emerges. That her personal and professional growth blossoms from her own tenacity and not through meeting a man, feels groundbreaking for the time and must have laid the foundation for so many of the ‘women getting by in the city’ stories which came to dominate the 1990s and beyond.

Much of the distance between Susan and Anne stems from their lack of honesty. Susan won’t admit she hates living alone and Anne is guarded about her dissatisfaction with married life.  It comes to head when Susan accuses Anne of betraying her and Anne counters that Susan is selfish and can’t stand that she’s happy (when she clearly isn’t). Their deception has left them with an idealised view of the other’s life which in turn has exacerbated their own feelings of inadequacy. It’s a highly realistic moment as this underlying tension has been present throughout most of their interactions since the wedding. You get the sense that both women have had this fight in their head several times before it explodes out in the open.

Susan has her opening night, which brings together the film’s familiar characters. Eric arrives with live ducks as a present and peace offering; they had previously fought over Susan’s reluctance to move in with him. When Martin arrives with apologies from Anne that she’s unable to make it, Susan knows something isn’t right. She drives to the country house and finds Anne resting after secretly aborting her second child.

Their reconciliation is instant and natural, there are no recriminations about past issues. They are self-deprecating and reassuring, then they crack out a bottle of tequila. We have come full circle, Susan and Anne are again laughing and comfortable in each other’s company (real tequila was used so the actors were genuinely pissed). When Martin’s car is heard pulling up, Anne makes fun of him but leaves her friend to get up to greet him. The film ends on a freeze of Susan looking a little sad but with a slight smile.

Weill has previously mentioned an alternative ending which had the two couples hanging out but ultimately felt Susan reconciling with Eric didn’t feel realistic to her character. The film critic Philip French wrote in 1978 that the principal strand of Girlfriends is the painfully maturing relationship between the two women. I agree. Weill’s chosen ending better encapsulates this maturity and the new phase in Susan and Anne’s friendship. I would also add that a further scene would not have been necessary, Susan’s face tells the audience everything they need to know: the friends will be just fine.

A certain smile – Susan in the final scene

Girlfriends premiered at the International Film Festival Rotterdam and did the rounds of other festivals in Europe and the US. Despite being picked up by Warner Bros. for distribution (unusual for an independent film), it was not a commercial success. It was certainly a critical success with comparisons to Woody Allen’s 1977 hit Annie Hall both in Weill’s direction and Mayron’s depiction of Susan.

I read a lot of these reviews at a library for research and it was great taking in how well received Girlfriends was despite the odds. What was not so great was how these (male) critics described Susan. Some choice phrases were “plump and plain with glasses”, “bush-haired, snaggle-toothed” and someone who would never make a “male head swivel”. The best one is by Hugh Herbert in The Guardian, apparently Susan “…has absolutely nothing going for her except a profound warmth and shining talent”. Blimey, who knew warmth and talent were mere sidenotes to having the capability to erect a tent in a man’s trousers. Herbert at least acknowledges that Weill was lucky to have Mayron in the film.

Absolutely nothing going for her apparently

An antidote to these weird reviews was an early 1980 interview with Stanley Kubrick. Vincente Molina Fox asked if he’s interested in the new trends being tried by directors in Hollywood, the examples given were all male filmmakers. Kubrick’s response was “I think one of the most interesting Hollywood films, well not Hollywood—American films—that I’ve seen in a long time is Claudia Weill’s Girlfriends…”. Given that Elaine May was the only other female director that Weill had encountered, it’s astounding that Kubrick singled out Girlfriends and makes it all the more frustrating that Weill would not go on to have long career as a film director.

Weill would spend time with Kubrick in England and she would direct another feature film, It’s My Turn (1980). The crew in LA lacked the female community she was used to and she was subjected to a lot of misogyny. She went back to New York and continued to work in TV, theatre and teaching. The legacy of Girlfriends has endured and continues to be written about. Thankfully we have seen many more wonderful films on the theme of women’s friendship and a healthy crop of talented female directors. Weill helped to blaze this trail and Girlfriends is still screened and reviewed. I went to a packed showing in 2024 with my 26-year-old friend who loved it and will hopefully spread the word. Girlfriends features in a Curzon Cinema season due in March which celebrates female filmmakers (and the beautiful Melanie Mayron is their cover star).

When I spotted the film in that BFI programme back in 2018, did I imagine the film would have a strong second act? I did not. I am delighted to be proved wrong.

View from the Ferris Wheel:

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992, dir. David Lynch) – first time watch on the new Blu-ray/UHD disc set. Sheryl Lee delivers a powerhouse performance in this now cult prequel to the series. Not without flaws but as a Twin Peaks fan, I bloody loved it.

Nuremberg (2025, dir. James Vanderbilt) – solid film with a great central presence from Russell Crowe as Hermann Göring. Too much going on though and should have been a TV series.

My Beautiful Launderette (1985, dir. Stephen Frears) – first time seeing this and terrific to see it on the big screen. Funnier than I expected and lovely chemistry between Daniel Day Lewis and Gordon Warnecke.

The Ice Storm (1997, dir. Ang Lee) – watched this classic thanks to the Dear Movies, I Love You podcast. Lee’s depiction of listless, rich families is as chilly on the inside as the literal ice storm outside. Enjoyed this a lot.

Jay Kelly (2025, dir. Noah Baumbach) – following Uncut Gems (2019), I am coming around to Adam Sandler. He’s terrific in this tale of fame, isolation, family and friendship.

Hedda (2025, dir. Nia DaCosta) – I’m a fan of the original Ibsen play and thought I’d struggle with this. Dodgy accents aside, this is an interesting adaptation with an alternative ending that I really did like. Tessa Thompson and Nina Hoss are particularly good and the whole film just looks gorgeous.

Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair (2011, dir. Quentin Tarrantino) – worked as one film in its entirety and the extra animation for O-Ren Ishii’s origin story fitted in well. I didn’t love the post-credit one, a bit naff and didn’t really add anything to the story.

Punch Drunk Love (2002, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson) – see Adam Sandler quote above, can’t believe how long it’s taken me but glad I got there. Loved the weirdness and the whole jangly nature of it.

Sweet Sweetback’s Badasssss Song (1971, dir. Melvin Van Peebles) – the making of story is worth a read. Out there yet rooted in reality, Van Peebles’s fuck you to the man rightly holds up as a cinema classic and features a not-yet-famous Earth, Wind and Fire on the soundtrack.

Souleyman’s Story (2024, dir. Boris Lojkine) – Souleyman (Abou Sangaré) is an immigrant from Guinea working in Paris as a fast food bike courier. The film depicts daily indignities and routine struggles as he prepares for his asylum interview. A quietly devastating film, recommend if you can see it.

Marty Supreme (2025, dir. Josh Safdie) – another heart attack on film by one of the Safdie brothers. Enjoyed this a lot, Timothée Chalamet is infuriating yet annoyingly likeable as Marty. A touch too long but really well executed.

No Other Choice (2025, dir. Park Chan-wook) – an absolute banger which has so much to it that I don’t know where to start. Since watching, I have to listen to Red Dragonfly by Cho Yong Pil at least once a week.

Nouvelle Vague (2025, dir. Richard Linklater) – liked this more than I expected. Sincere love letter to French cinema and impeccably cast. Particularly liked Zoey Deutch as Jean Seberg.

Lost Highway (1997, dir. David Lynch) – second time seeing it on the big screen and I still remain in awe. I noticed a few more things on the second viewing but I still feel like I’m tumbling through various trap doors in Bill Pullman’s head. An episode of the You Must Remember This podcast has an interesting take.