Love is Not a Game

In the film, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Miss Pettigrew begins as a shabby unemployed governess and ends up as a rarefied creature that lingers in the mind. Mostly the mind of Mr. Joe Blomfield, the slightly sordid but always gentlemanly designer of women’s lingerie. And it is to Joe that Guinevere admonishes that love is not a game when she notices the way in which her employer, starlet Delysia LaFosse, and all her compatriots, including Blomfield, “flit, flit, flit” from partner to partner.

Maybe the movie is not about love but about power and money and sex, but to me, it’s a Cinderella story where the heroine, plain and homely Miss Pettigrew is plucked from the frantically vapid set and placed straight into the arms of rich and kind and newly- awakened-to-real-love, Mr. Blomfield.

Underneath Guinevere’s outward drabness lies a heart of gold, even though she lives on the precipice of genteel poverty. She stays true to her value system although she’s hungry and tired and without luggage and clothes, having abandoned all she owned on a street outside a prison during an altercation. I love her pluck. I love her gumption. And I love watching her face as she maneuvers about the wealthy and frivolous Beautiful People and never once loses her sense of self.

I so admire her ability to continue to think of the brevity of life and making the most of every single day, especially with war looming. She gently advises Delysia to select the best man for a husband out of her three lovers, while putting aside her own personal heartache. And all this as air raid sirens howl in the background.

I find Miss Pettigrew to be a real inspiration of grace under fire. And even after losing her own love, she is still generous and kind when she tells Delysia not to let a good man slip between her fingers. It was a satisfying and joyous moment to then see that Miss Pettigrew is rewarded with a prince of her own.

Is love a game? Even young love has the potential to hurt or worse, to leave lasting scars. What do you think?

(Above, Miss Pettigrew dances with Joe Blomfield).

~

You people, with your green drinks and your parties and your subterfuges! You’re all playing at love. One minute her, the next minute someone else, flit, flit, flit! We’ll, I’m not playing. Love is not a game. ~ Miss Pettigrew