The other DrC and I rewatched The Summer of '42 last night. It is an amazingly good low-budget film that came out in 1971, the year we married. It shows up occasionally on cable channels that play old films, I recommend it.
Guys, if that film doesn't make you squirm a little, I'll be surprised. It is adolescent "coming of age" from the porn-not-widely-available era distilled down to the gut-wrenching basics.
Jennifer O'Neill was a great beauty, and a decent actress, the adolescent boys do a credible job too,. The only true adult with a speaking part - the Nantucket druggist - manages to wring every drop of angst out of his cameo role. The lush title theme music by Michel Legrand won an Oscar.
It turns out the script and novel based on the script were semi-autobiographical. Decades later author Herman Raucher was actually contacted by the gal the script names "Dorothy" who was concerned she had taken advantage of the 15 year old Hermie. Ironically, he'd always thought he'd taken advantage of her.
Go figure. Men and women have been misunderstanding each others' feelings (and motives) essentially forever.
