I once had a meltdown in a cinema in Warrington because I would never be Diane Keaton. Stylish, talented, kooky, neurotic and a tiny bit ditzy. My long-suffering bestie pointed out that I was ruthlessly efficient, organised, controlled and ditzy was not in my DNA. It was a polite “get a grip”. The nearest I ever got to being Diane Keaton-esque was having a public panic attack about how un-Diane Keaton-ish I was. Oh yes!

 

 

My love and admiration for her, despite our differences, remains undimmed so I went to the pictures with the glorious G-Boo, to see Book Club, Diane, Jane Fonda, Mary Steenburgen and Candice Bergen feeling frisky in their sixties. The plot is simple, they are friends who read Fifty Shades of Grey and are sexually inspired. Fonda learns to love rather than shag, Steenburgen puts the sex back in her marriage, Bergen finally moves on from her divorce 18 years ago and Keaton gets Andy Garcia (still hot). I loved it. I love seeing female friendship on screen and seeing women who are over 30 getting to be intelligent, successful and sexy is bloody marvellous.

 

 

If I wasn’t feeling the joy of phenomenal women from that I then watched Nothing Life A Dame on BBC iplayer. Joan Plowright, Eileen Atkins, Judi Dench and Maggie Smith discussing their incredible careers, lives and aging. Argumentative, funny, waspish, demanding, caring. These women have achieved so much and are aware of their own mortality. There is no fading out and not being seen, there is confidence, a lack of confidence, humour, regret, ego and selflessness. I wanted to be in that room with them.

 

 

We need to see something different from the usual cycle of women on screen of girlfriend/mother/evil crone. We need something to aspire to. Whether it was pool based shenanigans with Andy Garcia (yes please) or necking champagne with your mates in your eighties (also, yes please) these films did that.

 

 

Now I’m off to get a tattoo that says “what would Maggie Smith do?” on my bum. My n

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dario Valenzuela