Michelle Trachtenberg’s sudden passing on February 26, at the age of 39, has left fans reeling, and for many, she’ll forever be tied to roles like Dawn Summers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the cunning Georgina Sparks from Gossip Girl, or the graceful Casey Carlyle from Ice Princess. Those performances showcased her range and made her a millennial icon. But for me—and I suspect for others who were kids in the mid-90s—her defining moment came earlier, in Nickelodeon’s first theatrical feature, Harriet the Spy. Since her death just days ago, I’ve revisited that film a couple of times, not only to mourn her loss but to reconnect with a childhood touchstone that shaped me. Amid the outpouring of tributes, it’s a role that’s been overshadowed, and I’m here to give it the attention it deserves.
I can still picture it: summer 1996, me as a kid clutching a ticket, heart racing with anticipation as I stepped into the theater. This wasn’t just any movie—it was Nickelodeon’s movie, the network behind The Adventures of Pete & Pete and Clarissa Explains It All taking a bold leap onto the big screen. Released on July 10, 1996, Harriet the Spy—adapted from Louise Fitzhugh’s 1964 novel—landed with a quiet splash, and for me, it was nothing short of transformative. There was Michelle Trachtenberg, all of 10 years old, bringing Harriet M. Welsch to life: a pint-sized sleuth scribbling secrets in her notebook, spying on her suburban world with a mix of grit and wonder. It wasn’t just entertainment; it was a rallying cry for every kid who felt a little out of place, a little too curious.
Trachtenberg embodied Harriet with a natural intensity that belied her age—looking back, it’s clear how much craft went into making it seem so effortless. Harriet was nosy, flawed, and fiercely independent, a character who could alienate her friends one minute and win you over the next. I’d sit there, eyes glued to the screen, watching her prowl her East Coast neighborhood, peering through windows and jotting down unvarnished truths. I didn’t own a notebook then, but that film made me want one. I wanted to see the world like Harriet did—sharp, fearless, unfiltered.
The movie itself was a curious blend: Nickelodeon’s quirky DNA meets a 90s indie aesthetic. Directed by Bronwen Hughes in her feature debut, it was shot across Toronto and New York, crafting a timeless yet specific backdrop of brownstones and schoolyards. The supporting cast was a standout—Rosie O’Donnell as Harriet’s nanny Golly, a Nickelodeon veteran offering warmth and wit; Vanessa Lee Chester as Janie, the science-obsessed best friend; Gregory Smith as Sport, the loyal sidekick. The plot tracked Harriet’s arc from lone observer to a kid grappling with the fallout of her own words—her notebook, once a private sanctuary, becomes a weapon when it’s exposed. That sting of betrayal and her fight to mend it hit me hard as a child, and it still holds up.
Trachtenberg was the linchpin. Filming began in 1995, and she turned 10 on the first day of principal photography—October 11, her birthday—a detail that underscores the raw spark she poured into the role. She wasn’t just playing Harriet; she was Harriet, all sass and vulnerability rolled into one. Years later, she’d tell Variety how the part ignited her own writing passion, a thread that led her to join the Writers Guild of America and pitch projects as an adult. That link to Harriet’s notebook makes her loss cut deeper—she didn’t just portray her; she carried a piece of her forward.
Since her passing, I’ve rewatched Harriet the Spy a couple of times. Each viewing pulls me back to that theater—the sticky floors, the popcorn tang, the thrill of seeing a kid like me (or who I dreamed of being) up there. It’s also sharpened my respect for Trachtenberg’s work. At an age when most are still finding their footing, she anchored a film that’s endured. The 90s trappings—those tomato-red tights, that oversized jacket—might peg it to an era, but Harriet’s spirit transcends it: a kid who dared to dig deeper, to question, to write.
Yes, Buffy and Ice Princess have wider followings, and Gossip Girl gave her a wicked edge fans adore. Those roles merit their praise. But Harriet the Spy was her launchpad, where she first proved her mettle. It was Nickelodeon’s cinematic debut, a $12 million gamble that grossed $26.5 million worldwide—not a smash, but a solid win. Its real legacy, though, isn’t in the numbers. On X, fans have called it “a generational cornerstone,” crediting Trachtenberg for making them feel seen. Yet in the rush to honor her career, Harriet often gets a footnote. I’m here to linger on it.
Michelle Trachtenberg’s death hits hard—she was too young, too vital to so many childhoods, mine included. Harriet the Spy didn’t just entertain me; it nudged me to notice the world, maybe even to write about it. Watching it now, I see what director Bronwen Hughes called her “lightning bolt of a casting discovery” in The Hollywood Reporter, that fire and spark she brought to Harriet, and that old wonder flares up. She’s gone too soon, but Harriet M. Welsch—and Trachtenberg’s indelible stamp on her—lives on. Rest in peace, Michelle. Thanks for the spy in all of us. And if you’re looking to revisit her magic, Harriet the Spy is streaming for free right now on Pluto TV—grab your notebook and dive in.
