The Hepburn-Tracy Project, #1: "Woman of the Year" (George Stevens, 1942)

In late April, Warner Home Video scored a coup of sorts and put out a DVD box called Tracy & Hepburn: The Definitive Collection, which puts together all nine of the films co-starring legends Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy in one handy-dandy package. A great number of the films they made together are not under the Warner rubric, so, like the recent Kazan box set from Fox, this is a bit of a diplomatic achievement. The thing about the Tracy-Hepburn collaborations is that, until I'd say as late as Adam's Rib, they don't look as if they were really approached as such, that is, as collaborative works by two distinctive artists; they were just films that had the two stars, who were romantically involved off-screen, working together. They didn't signify as "Tracy and Hepburn" pictures in other words.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Or I should say ourselves. When I got the box set, I proposed to My Lovely Wife Claire that it might be a fun thing for us to assess together, since she and I are so VERY much like Tracy and Hepburn themselves. But seriously. Claire did some DVD reviewing for me back in the Premiere days, and I've always been a fan of her writing, and her overall perceptiveness and sunniness and all sorts of "ness" informs my work at its best, I like to think. So, this informal project, wherein we watch the Tracy/Hepburn pictures and concoct, each week, a "dialogue" about the picture. 

The first picture is the first that Hepburn and Tracy made together, of course, the 1942 Woman of the Year, directed by George Stevens, in which sports columnist Tracy falls for "emancipated" highfalutin political columnist and knows-all-the-right-people gadabout Hepburn, and shows her the proper place for a...well, I don't need to say it. The movie happens to rank pretty high on our friend The Self-Styled Siren's "Ten Movies The Siren Should Love...But Does Not" list, and when we popped it in Claire, who had not seen the picture before, was curious as to why. It didn't take her long to find out, as our dialogue below attests...

Claire Kenny: This was not at all what I expected, and I’m afraid I just didn’t much enjoy it…I think you felt the same? I feel like I’m SUPPOSED to enjoy it; I know that it’s a “classic,” and obviously KH/ST have all the fabulous zesty crackly brainy interactions we expect, but there was just too much stuff I would have to overlook. This is for the obvious thematic (anti-feminist) reasons, but they manifested themselves in ways I wasn’t anticipating. I thought, if anything, it was going to be one of those things where the big fancy career girl is Just Too Uppity For Her Own Good, and he’s going to have to “tame” her, which would of course have been frustrating and off-putting. But this was really worse in a way, because it’s not just that Hepburn’s Tess is smart and ambitious and successful, it’s that she’s not LIKABLE. She’s selfish and inconsiderate and flighty, exhibited most appallingly in her surprise adoption of an orphan and subsequent disinterest in even the most fundamental aspects of his wellbeing. Meanwhile Tracy’s Sam cranks around this big beautiful apartment, pouting over being neglected and getting no time alone with his new wife, and maybe you shouldn't have gotten married after knowing someone for thirty seconds, Spence?? I’m not sure what we’re supposed to get from this—is she insufferable because she doesn’t embrace her wifely station, or are we supposed to think of her as insufferable by nature, and in turn think of this quality as essential to feminine success? I realize I should make allowances for its datedness, but it may have aged past the point of being bearable.  The ending is…meh. The slapstick element of Tess’s attempts to make breakfast for Sam don’t really work—something is off with the pacing, it’s just not madcap enough—and her implied assumption of a more subservient role irks. On the other hand, I wasn’t clear what she was going to do exactly—it seemed the plan was basically “work less, hyphenate last name, leave my slick apartment behind for this townhouse complex.”  Which is fine, I guess. No suggestion that Sam was going work less, but this is probably too much to expect for 1942.

I do give the movie bonus points for Tess’s father’s scrumptious country house in Connecticut.  I’m a sucker for classic-movie country houses.

Glenn Kenny: You got more takeaway from the ostensible content than I did...or is it that I'm just an insensitive male? Everything you're saying about the offensiveness of the chauvinism is entirely correct, but none of that registered for me as strongly as just what a logy, dry, and leaden picture this is from stem to (almost) stern. George Stevens at his best is, as we all know from reading our copies of The American Cinema, an auteur, but damn, when I see a Stevens film that doesn't click for me I tend to ask myself, where the hell is George Stevens at his best, because this sure as hell is pretty far from it. [N.B., that's merely a quasi-rhetorical question designed to conjure my particular feeling of frustration with this movie; but for actual answers concerning Stevens' greatness, you could do worse than to check out Raymond De Felitta's pieces about him at Movies 'Til Dawn—part one is here—and/or The Siren's recent breakdown of a classic scene from Giant.]The Hepburn/Tracy "chemistry" is there but just barely...it seeps through the cracks of the cretinous plotting (man, that business with the orphaned kid is beyond crassly lame) and only really comes to life —and here's the main thing I disagree with you about concerning the film—in the finale, which, content aside, is a funny slapstick bit that harks back to Stevens' days as a director of Laurel and Hardy shorts, and underscores the teams' core talents in the comic arena. It is, admitedly, almost completely out of place here, but welcome nonetheless. If I may be so bold I'd like to speculate that had Hepburn and Tracy not wound up together romantically, they might have never been cast together again on the "strength" of this film. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Claire Kenny: It's not that I got more out of this than you did--I think I was having the same problems as you, and the most interesting emotional response I could find was righteous indignation. Which is really not saying much--"the only thing your movie offered me, Mr. Stevens, was enough offensive content to keep me moderately annoyed for two hours." I keep thinking about your last statement, though, and I can't decide whether or not I agree. It's of course a false exercise, because we have all the benefits of hindsight and a body of terrific joint work to look back on, but I can see why a viewer in 1942 would look at this and see the potential for lots of wonderful future pairings. Neither actor is at all like any other film actor I can think of, of any period, and the combination of their specific talents and intelligences and weird rough edges is something that doesn't make conceptual sense until you see it onscreen. Even from this weak start, I see what made people want more. And I'm still not with you on the finale. Here's why: I think that for slapstick (which I'll admit is not my favorite thing) to be really effective, the environmental obstacles almost have to take on the qualities of another character who's in active battle with the performer(s). And for THAT to work, the performer has to appear to *believe* that the obstacles have wills of their own, and might win the battle--whereas Katharine Hepburn is not believable as someone who can't master her environment. She's only effectively undone on film by some kind of emotional circumstance; she doesn't read as someone incapable in practical ways. So here, she looks like someone very good at waffle-making pretending like she doesn't know how to make waffles. Stevens compensates for this with lingering shots of the wafflemaker bubbling over, or whatever, which kills the pace.

Glenn Kenny: Touché. I can’t say you’re wrong in your analysis of that penultimate scene, Maybe I was so longing for a Laurel and Hardy short by that point in the dreary Woman that I overcompensated imaginatively. In any event, the picture itself is sufficiently dispiriting as a viewing experience (as opposed to a subject for historical study, that is) that I’m almost overeager to get to the next…

The next will be Keeper of the Flame, directed by George Cukor. Stay tuned!

Comments

[jbryant]

It's been too long since I've seen the film to weigh in with any agreements or disagreements, except to say I've always thought of it as a film I like. But I do think Hepburn and Tracy would've been asked to re-team if only because the film was a hit with audiences and liked well enough within the industry to earn an Oscar for its script and a nod for Hepburn.

[jbryant]

Oh, and great concept for a series of columns, by the way!

[Brian]

This is wonderful-- I love the specifics you both mention, and also agree it's a great idea for an ongoing feature. Glenn, I know it was awhile ago, but do you remember which films Claire reviewed? I still have my old PREMIEREs somewhere, and would love to read her stuff.

[lazarus]

A fun read, but is this really worth it for you two in terms of cinema pleasure? Only a few of these films are even ones I'd ever want to see again, and I'm a HUGE Hepburn fan. If you can make it through all of them you will have my admiration...or sympathy.

I think you guys would have had a lot more fun with The Thin Man set, or even that boxed set of non-Thin Man pairings of Powell & Loy.

[lipranzer]

I seem to remember liking this, at least until the end, but I must also admit I haven't seen it in years either. It may not measure up to ADAM'S RIB or PAT AND MIKE, but not many romantic comedies do to begin with.

[Paul Anthony Johnson]

You've hit on idea here that just might make SOME CAME RUNNING the most entertaining film blog in existence.

I like WOMAN OF THE YEAR, or at least the first half or so, mainly because I think Tracy's particularly terrific in it. But the second that little kid enters the picture it just curls up in a corner and dies. Also, while the film is idiotic in terms of gender, I think it's rather smart in terms of class. At least that's the defense I built up in my head when I last saw it several years ago.

[Kent Jones]

Sparkling repartee.

Claire's remarks on the last scene seem dead-on to me. The pace is pure Laurel & Hardy, to be sure, but the idea that Hepburn would walk into a kitchen and turn into Spanky McFarland is idiotic. You have to hand it to her, because she tries to make it work, but no one could…except Spanky himself. Her anxiety is terrible - every shot of her alarmed face seems to be accompanied by flashing lights, the business with the falling shoulder straps is another layer that doesn't add anything, and the bulging waffle looks like a balloon coated in off-white paint, which is undoubtedly what it was.

But regarding Glenn's remarks about Stevens, there might be something else to consider. Like The Siren, I like Stevens, and I like GIANT, and I like the scene she describes in GIANT. Nonetheless, I find that Stevens' work is aging, coming apart at the seams a little. There's a laboriousness, learned from his training in slow-burn comedy, that I am starting to find precious, overly worked. And there's this sense of each little behavioral nugget being polished until it sparkles that is starting to seem as quaint as one of those old Christmas cards you find in vintage clothing shops. Personally, I love it, because it's a part of my childhood, but I think it's breaking down.

SWING TIME is a beautiful movie. I haven't seen ALICE ADAMS in ages, but I used to love it. The 40s movies might be the most laborious, but watching PENNY SERENADE is like listening to one of Irene Dunne's old 78s - just as beautiful, just as fragile. I admire the seriousness of A PLACE IN THE SUN, but it's too fussy, and it really doesn't, or can't, do justice to Dreiser. Like The Siren, I really like SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR. And I think SHANE and GIANT are great. But maybe even those movies are starting to seem rickety, and a little precious.

[lipranzer]

I don't find THE MORE THE MERRIER laborious at all; I think it's quite romantic and funny, the latter especially whenever Charles Coburn is on-screen. And I also think ALICE ADAMS holds up pretty well. I am of the opinion, however, that Stevens' post-WWII work does tend to get laborious, though (and yes, sadly, I do include SHANE, GIANT, and to a lesser extent, A PLACE IN THE SUN in that assessment, even though they both have undeniably good things about them), and his pre-WWII stuff tends to work the best for me.

[BLH]

I like The More the Merrier quite a lot, but it doesn't start getting really good until it stops trying to be funny. That same sense mentioned above of something being "off" about the slapstick applies here to the early scenes of Jean Arthur and Charles Coburn fumbling around a too-small apartment. It's just the pacing is wrong or it feels overly fussed-with or something.

[Kent Jones]

BLH, same with TALK OF THE TOWN, at least as I remember it.

lipranzer, I know that everyone finds the post-war films laborious, and I suppose I agree. But the films made before and during the war are supposed to be light, whereas the ones made after are quite deliberately and sometimes daringly mannered. To me, calling GIANT "heavy" is like calling CLUELESS "light."

[Brian Dauth]

Joseph L. Mankiewicz wrote the last scene of WOTY after an unsuccessful preview, and was not pleased with the way Stevens directed it (Cukor was one of the few directors who worked well with a script in which Mankiewicz had a hand).

[Carrie]

I remember reading the original Ring Lardner Jr.-written final scene of WOTY in a Screenwriter's Guild newsletter and it was quite good and in keeping with the rest of the film. The appending of the excruciating Mankiewicz finale was a result of the popular belief (which Hepburn herself subscribed to) that audiences liked seeing the uppity actress kicked off her high horse in the last reel. It worked in The Philadelphia Story, and it was a feature of so many of her post-1940 films.

[Stephanie]

The original script was written by Lardner Jr. and Michael Kanin, Garson's brother, and Garson may have had his hand in, as well. Lardner wondered why Hepburn wouldn't defend the original ending and he thought that perhaps she was still sufficiently spooked by her near-death career experience to be unsure of her judgment and unwilling to risk that this film might not succeed commercially. (Apparently preview audiences responded well to the botched waffles.)

I like the first half of the film. It's funny and Hepburn and Tracy are setting off sparks that wouldn't be seen from them again till Adam's Rib (maybe never; the sexual vibe between them is strongest in WOTY). Also, Tracy is at his most attractive - not saying much IMO, but he's still very appealing in the first half. Later he is less so mainly because the deck is so plainly being stacked for him. In a way that's true all through the movie, but it gets really bad then and the Hepburn character is deprived of all charm and wit.

I'm not sure you want to waste your time plowing through all of these films, though. Some of them are just not that good or interesting.

[Glenn Kenny]

Thanks Stephanie, but except for the second half of "Pat and Mike" and "Guess Who's Coming To Dinner," a picture with which we're both pretty familiar to begin with, the plowing has been accomplished.