Analysis:

Bill Forsyth's slightly-plotted tale of an ungainly teenager's romantic yearning is arguably the warmest and most thoroughly charming British film to emerge from the dark days of the early 1980s.

Though it deals, in its own wryly playful way, with the torture of adolescence, and despite the opening scene, in which Gregory and his mates spy on a nurse undressing, Gregory's Girl is striking in its innocence.

No drugs or violence stalk the school playground, and the boys' toilets are the province not of bullies or smokers, but of a thriving home-made confectionary business and a rival venture selling very demure photographs of football heroine Dorothy. And when Gregory finally gets his moment of romantic fulfilment, the horizontal dancing he proposes is entirely chaste.

Read the full analysis on BFI Screenonline.