Katherine Hepburn was a forceful actress with unconventional good looks but some critical mogul labeled her "box office poison" in the late 1930s. Maybe because she often wore slacks. But she was competent enough and was to become much more than merely "competent" as she matured.
Still, in the 1930s, with all her spirit and beauty, she was stuck in a number of movies of the genre that were called -- without any implication of male superiority -- "women's pictures." They were simply aimed at a certain audience, perhaps to provide some balance for the "men's pictures" in which Jimmy Cagney punched everybody out. Beginning with "A Bill of Divorcement," they mostly seemed to involve romantic intrigues and difficulties, the kind that can be found on many afternoon domestic dramas on television. This entry in the series doesn't add much to her box-office impact or, if it somehow does, I missed it. The director gives Hepburn a grand entrance into a ball room dressed in a shimmering gown and tight skull cap that is supposed to be stunning but to an insensitive male only makes Hepburn look a little like the False Maria in "Metropolis."
This one was directed by a woman but it fits the template fairly well. Hepburn is Lady Cynthia Darlington. She's an aviatrix, but don't worry. There isn't much flying in it. She falls in love with a married man, Colin Clive. Clive's daughter falls in love with an older man too, even after she's been seduced by a rogue named Carlo. The echoing dual contretemps is handled better in "King Lear," where it's not handled very well either. Will Katherine wind up with Colin? Will Colin's daughter catch the man she truly loves? Will this movie never end? It's full of people who might have populated a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie at the same studio, RKO. Everybody not wearing riding breeches is dressed in evening clothes. They rush from one all-night party to another. Some of them are reckless. They think nothing of zipping off to vacations in Italy and riding around in speedboats. Colin Clive -- you'll remember him as Dr. Frankenstein. You know, the white-coated scientist who shouts, "Get BECK. Get BECK! It's ALIVE. Ohhh, it's alive!" His name here is Sir Christopher Strong, just as Hepburn is Lady Cynthia Darlington.
Actually, I didn't really care who ended up with whom. The movie did leave me with a strong feeling, however. I wish I'd been born rich instead of poor, into a world in which the worst tragedies one had to face were the prospect of divorce and the immutable fact of having been seduced because one was lonely.
Still, in the 1930s, with all her spirit and beauty, she was stuck in a number of movies of the genre that were called -- without any implication of male superiority -- "women's pictures." They were simply aimed at a certain audience, perhaps to provide some balance for the "men's pictures" in which Jimmy Cagney punched everybody out. Beginning with "A Bill of Divorcement," they mostly seemed to involve romantic intrigues and difficulties, the kind that can be found on many afternoon domestic dramas on television. This entry in the series doesn't add much to her box-office impact or, if it somehow does, I missed it. The director gives Hepburn a grand entrance into a ball room dressed in a shimmering gown and tight skull cap that is supposed to be stunning but to an insensitive male only makes Hepburn look a little like the False Maria in "Metropolis."
This one was directed by a woman but it fits the template fairly well. Hepburn is Lady Cynthia Darlington. She's an aviatrix, but don't worry. There isn't much flying in it. She falls in love with a married man, Colin Clive. Clive's daughter falls in love with an older man too, even after she's been seduced by a rogue named Carlo. The echoing dual contretemps is handled better in "King Lear," where it's not handled very well either. Will Katherine wind up with Colin? Will Colin's daughter catch the man she truly loves? Will this movie never end? It's full of people who might have populated a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie at the same studio, RKO. Everybody not wearing riding breeches is dressed in evening clothes. They rush from one all-night party to another. Some of them are reckless. They think nothing of zipping off to vacations in Italy and riding around in speedboats. Colin Clive -- you'll remember him as Dr. Frankenstein. You know, the white-coated scientist who shouts, "Get BECK. Get BECK! It's ALIVE. Ohhh, it's alive!" His name here is Sir Christopher Strong, just as Hepburn is Lady Cynthia Darlington.
Actually, I didn't really care who ended up with whom. The movie did leave me with a strong feeling, however. I wish I'd been born rich instead of poor, into a world in which the worst tragedies one had to face were the prospect of divorce and the immutable fact of having been seduced because one was lonely.