Friday, March 15, 2024

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

USA, 112 minutes
Director: George Cukor
Writers: Donald Ogden Stewart, Philip Barry, Waldo Salt
Photography: Joseph Ruttenberg
Music: Franz Waxman
Editor: Frank Sullivan
Cast: Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, James Stewart, John Howard, Ruth Hussey, Virginia Weidler, Mary Nash, Roland Young, John Halliday, Henry Daniell

I first saw The Philadelphia Story quite a long time ago, on early missions to collect all the various Hollywood classics of the late ‘30s and ‘40s. The first thing that struck me coming back to it again was what a phenomenal amount of star power it has, with not one not two but three major players: Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and James Stewart. Plus the great Hollywood director George Cukor (Little Women, Holiday, part of Gone With the Wind, Gaslight, Born Yesterday), a specialist in romantic comedy arguably at the peak of his powers. That’s the view from now anyway—interestingly, Hepburn at the time was considered box office poison for some reason, so when Grant demanded top billing in this one he got it. Hepburn had also flopped on Broadway a few years earlier, making it something of a low ebb for her career, though of course she is remembered now as a steady-glowing superstar.

In fact, The Philadelphia Story started life as a vehicle written for Hepburn by playwright Philip Barry. Talk about star-studded: in the Broadway production, Joseph Cotten had Cary Grant’s role and Van Heflin had Stewart’s. And it was a big hit, so I’m not sure what the Hollywood moguls were worried about. But I’m sure there’s a story. At any rate, the film version is bracingly modern for its times, acknowledging the reality of embittered marriages and divorce. On the other hand, it reverts more to the form of its times by making a joking matter out of routine domestic violence. It’s given as funny that C.K. Dexter Haven (Grant) “socked” his then wife Tracy Lord (Hepburn) (no apparent relation to the porn star). This movie loves the word “sock.”


I don’t particularly hold that against The Philadelphia Story—after all, it’s “the times, the times.” Equally typical is the resolution to the divorce, which I won’t give away even though it’s 100% predictable and the picture is over 80 years old. Also typical is the delightful presence of character player Roland Young and his somewhat less delightful habit of pinching the bottoms of attractive women. What struck me more as somewhat odd about this picture is how similar the arc of Grant’s character is to another role of his, in His Girl Friday, released that same year. In both Grant is at work winning back an estranged wife and in both he is ruthlessly manipulative, as comical element and otherwise.

The Philadelphia Story breaks out in domestic scenes that serve up more vanilla versions of those in Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But even if they are milder, much milder, and the humiliations are only threatened, they are remarkably candid in their quiet ways, uncomfortable and surprisingly close to feeling real about domestic fracases. It’s also droll and can be very funny, most often in Grant’s scenes where he will say things like, speaking of Tracy’s fiancĂ© George Kittredge, “To hardly know him is to know him well.” John Howard as George is the designated Ralph Bellamy in this picture.

Hepburn gets some choice lines too. “South Bend [Indiana],” she cackles lightly when she meets the tabloid reporters Macauley “Mike” Connor (Stewart) and Ellizabeth “Liz” Imbrie (Ruth Hussey playing it reminiscent of Mary Astor) and learns where they are from. “It sounds like dancing, doesn’t it?” Hepburn does not get top billing but she is thoroughly the star of the show. Macauley is a frustrated short story writer with a lot of talent—all the principals in this movie seem to know his one published collection well. Stewart plays him effectively enough in his low-gear mode, but the boy scout routine is somehow less convincing here and can be annoying. But I’m dutybound to report that he won an Oscar for this performance. Per IMDb, he thought Henry Fonda deserved it that year for The Grapes of Wrath, saying he thought the award was "deferred payment for my work on Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

There’s a good deal of discussion about class conflict and such here, but I don’t believe it for a second. Macauley has a lot to say about it but later, in a drunken swoon, he is seen carrying Tracy in his arms and singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” (which reminds us this is an MGM picture). It doesn’t look like it would take long for Tracy and her family wealth to bring Macauley “Mike” to heel. As romantic comedies go, The Philadelphia Story is not the best, even for its era. I’ll take Holiday and His Girl Friday before it for Grant, Woman of the Year, Holiday again, and even Stage Door before it for Hepburn, and The Shop Around the Corner and all the scenes with Donna Reed in It’s a Wonderful Life before it for Stewart. And while we’re on the compare and contrast thing, note that director Cukor also directed Holiday. It’s the one to see! But The Philadelphia Story is a good one to get to, it’s entertaining enough, and the big stars are fun.

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