For most of her life, she eschewed the public eye. She didn’t do publicity tours, rarely gave interviews, and attended just a single Oscar telecast, in 1974. This most private of actresses preferred to let her films do the talking.
Despite studio-engineered magazine articles during her heyday of the '30s and '40s, or the occasional piece in popular magazines as late as the '60s, Hepburn didn't really begin regularly doing interviews for television and magazines until the early 1980s, likely due to the huge reception she got from "On Golden Pond" opposite Henry (and Jane) Fonda in 1981. I think she was trying to solidify her legacy, as well as the legacy of longtime companion Spencer Tracy, a 25-year relationship she had not, up to that point, spoken openly about. In fact, she took the narrative into her own hands and eventually wrote two books about her life and career, including an autobiography.
As a long-time fan (disclaimer: she’s my all-time favorite actress), it’s occurred to me how similar her life story is to her films. I don’t think this is accidental, as Hepburn had extraordinary control in choosing the films in which she appeared. (Very much a rarity during the big studio era.) So I think it’s safe to say she consciously chose roles that echoed her own personal values and beliefs about being a woman, an American, and a human being, as well as her approach to life and work. So many of her characters have in common a willfulness, spunk, creativity and joy in living that are very Hepburn.
I’ve selected titles from the early 1930s to the mid-1950s, when she was working regularly, which I feel provide distinct windows into the real Katharine Hepburn. These titles indicate the type of woman she was when the films were made. Watching them, I think, helps you get to know Kate as she grows up from a young lady to a mature middle-aged woman.
When she hit the Hollywood scene in 1932, Kate made a big impact; there had been no one like her, and audiences were captivated. She was cast as refined yet quirky, independent-minded young women. In “Morning Glory,” she plays Eva Lovelace, a naïve, stage struck girl who is determined to become a famous actress. Louis Easton (Adolphe Menjou) is a big-time theatrical producer who is doubtful of Eva’s viability as a star; Joseph Sheridan (the very young and immensely attractive Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) is the writer who falls for Eva.
The film is a bit creaky, but it moves fast, and Kate is wonderful to watch. (The role won her the Best Actress Oscar.) At this time, audiences were still enjoying Kate’s atypical persona; but her sharp edges and sometimes arch manner would wear itself thin within five years. (We’ll get to that in a moment.) Knowing about Kate’s real-life theatrical aspirations prior to coming to Hollywood, it’s easy to feel while watching “Morning Glory” that Kate is Eva, Eva is Kate. And you can trace her role here to our next film, “Stage Door,” in which she again plays an aspiring actress.
By the time Kate made “Stage Door,” she’d been in Hollywood for five years. Her first three films had been hits, with an Oscar win for “Morning Glory.” But by 1934, it was flop after flop. Audiences were growing tired of her twee characterizations in a series of rather dull costume dramas. RKO Studios took a chance by casting her in a modern role as Terry Randall, a wealthy young woman who wants to be a stage actress. (Sort of a more sophisticated version of Eva Lovelace in "Morning Glory.")
To get the feel of the theatrical life, Terry takes a room at The Footlights Club, a boarding house for struggling actresses. She is immediately a fish out of water, as these girls are hard-bitten, sarcastic, and jaded. But what a bunch of girls! Such up-and-comers as Eve Arden, Lucille Ball, Ann Miller, and a house full of others, have a chance to shine, with terrific one-liners and funny situations in the house. Kate’s top-billed co-star is Ginger Rogers, as Terry’s roommate Jean Maitland, and she is hilarious; they have great chemistry (even though their characters don’t like each other in the beginning, and apparently weren’t great fans of each other in real life.) Adolphe Menjou appears again as, you guessed it, a theatrical producer who puts some jealousies into action.
The character of Terry Randall mimics Kate’s own story: She comes from a rich family and, against her family’s wishes, decides to try the stage. In real life, Kate appeared in a play that was a tremendous flop. In "Stage Door," her Terry initially demonstrates a lot of arrogance but little talent in a seemingly doomed play. Through circumstances of “Stage Door,” the opposite happens and the play is a hit. Watch the film for yourself to see how this all plays out...
The film fortifies Kate as a modern woman, and she gets to be droll as well as moving. Her Terry Randall strongly encompasses what we know about Katharine Hepburn today: Haughty, confident, headstrong. It's not a great performance, but there is something bracing to her work here.
The Philadelphia Story (1940)
By 1939, Kate had suffered more film flops than hits, and was deemed “box office poison,” meaning film distributors didn’t want to book her movies because they weren’t making money. She fled to Broadway, where she had a great triumph with Philip Barry’s play “The Philadelphia Story.” In the smartest move of her career, she bought the rights, sold it to MGM, and reinvented herself in a smash hit movie that put her squarely back on top. She plays Tracy Lord, a very high-minded blue blood whose disdain for personal weakness, and harsh judgment for those who don’t measure up to her standards, has resulted in a fairly recent divorce from C.K. Dexter Haven (the dazzling Cary Grant).
Now she’s ready to marry the social-climbing George Kittredge (John Howard), who—to Tracy’s horror—invites Spy magazine to cover the wedding. The tabloid’s reporter, Mike Connor (James Stewart) descends with his photographer cohort Liz Imbrie (Ruth Hussey) on the Lord mansion. Tracy initially disdains Mike and Liz for meddling in her private life, and strings them along for her amusement. However, on the night before her wedding, in a champagne haze, she falls for Mike. Yet on her wedding day, she realizes she still loves Dexter. Fast-paced complications ensue.
This film cemented Kate’s image as a woman of convictions and a very strong sense of herself, her values, and her principles. She also looks more gorgeous than she ever did before (or, in my opinion, after). The tony sets, beautiful people (Cary Grant = dazzling), and lush black-and-white cinematography make the movie positively shimmer. And at its core are subtle notes on class, celebrity, and privacy, quite pertinent in the age of the Kardashians.
Kate plays strong and independent yet again as Tess Harding, a very successful political reporter who meets sports reporter Sam Craig. He isn’t used to this kind of woman, but he falls for her anyway. It’s so much fun to watch their relationship unfold due to their fantastic on-screen chemistry, which extended off-screen as well; Tracy and Hepburn spent the next 25 years in a (very complicated) real-life romance.
But in “Woman of the Year,” they are in the prime of their lives, and they play their roles with aplomb and great humor. Kate is quite sexy, and her characterization of Tess is irresistible. Tracy, as Sam, is adorably gruff. The film is the classic opposites-attract story, and it has an airy, leisurely quality. It was such a success, in fact, that Tracy and Hepburn teamed eight more times until his death in 1967. All the character traits we admire about them both, as a team and individually, are on display in this film. And again, she looks fabulous. (Check her out in that velvet smoking jacket!)
It’s 1949 and it’s as if Sam and Tess have settled into married life. In “Adam’s Rib,” Tracy and Hepburn play Adam and Amanda Bonner, lawyers who suddenly find themselves on the opposite side of the same case, a charge against a woman (Judy Holiday) who shot, but didn't kill, her philandering husband. Amanda argues that the so-called attempted murder was justified to keep her family together; Adam argues that the wife should be thrown in prison. The film offers some delicious interplay between the warring couple, and ventures some of the earliest overtones of feminism and arguments for equality of the sexes outside of an early '30s pre-code movie. Leave it to Kate Hepburn to be the movie star who broaches these subjects in 1949.
Hepburn was 42 when the film was made, and she comes across as a softer version of her earlier movie self (the hard edges and clipped accent of 1933 are worn down). She’s settling into middle-age with self-assurance and a radiant beauty. The Bonners are presented as a high-minded, yet open-minded, couple who have fun together, and their interplay, especially in early scenes, is quite delightful; I wouldn’t be surprised if some of it was ad-libbed.
Pat and Mike (1952)This film is your chance to see Hepburn’s fabled athleticism on screen. Here she plays Pat Pemberton, an all-around athlete who excels at golf and tennis (both of which Hepburn avidly played in real life.) Her bland but overbearing fiancé wants her to marry and quit this sports business, but she’s determined to stay at it.
The problem is that any time he’s watching her, she chokes. So she enlists the help of Mike Conovan, a sports manager who believes in her. Here, Tracy’s Mike is a lovable mug, while Hepburn’s Pat is refined yet charmingly ingenuous; she allows her fiancé to dictate what she does to the point she almost neglects her burgeoning career. That is, until Mike steps in. Naturally, this unlikely team eventually fall for each other.
When most of her contemporaries were sticking to safe roles as ‘great ladies,’ Kate, at 45, was showing the world what an excellent athlete she was. (Seriously great legs.) It’s fun to see her interact with a number of actual female athletes of the era, including Babe Didrikson Zaharias, Gussie Moran, Alice Marble, and others.
Kate is Jane Hudson, a small-town school teacher on vacation in Venice, Italy. She is a solitary woman who is seeking a change of scenery in an exotic place. Finding love, however, was not on her itinerary.
But despite her protestations, she falls for a married local named Renato de Rossi (Rosanno Brazzi). Yet Jane is a woman of convictions, who has always done the proper thing. She is blindsided by this romance that is fraught with complexity. She’s at first repulsed by Renato's willingness to have an affair, but her sense of propriety soon is shoved aside. (The scene where the two first meet, at an outdoor café, is marvelously played and demonstrates Hepburn's genius without saying a word.)
Kate’s Jane Hudson is a wonderful characterization. She was 48 at this time, when most of her contemporaries were either retired or playing character parts. It’s as if her Eva Lovelace of "Morning Glory" really was a morning glory, left behind her theatrical ambitions decades before, and settled with becoming a teacher; and here it is 20 years later, with one more chance for adventure.
Watching Hepburn, you feel Jane Hudson's longing. It’s impossible not to get swept up into the romance of this movie. It was filmed by David Lean on location and in color, so it’s gorgeous to look at. The icing on the cake of this ultimately heartbreaking film is that you get to see Venice in 1955, before the crass commercialization we know today.
Maybe it was partially fabrication, but I like to think that, by watching her movies, you really can get to know the real Kate Hepburn, a woman worth knowing.
"I think that if you're lucky enough to belong to an era that you live in, in a very strong way, as I did, then you're lucky. So I'm lucky." - K. Hepburn
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| A letter I received in response to one I sent the Great Kate in 1993. What a thrill to receive a hand-typed letter on her stationery! (Yes, she really typed and signed it.) |
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