Woman of the Year (1942)

Toronto Film Society presented Woman of the Year (1942) on Monday, July 29, 1985 in a double bill with The Thin Man Goes Home as part of the Season 38 Summer Series, Programme 4.

Production Company: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.  Producer: Joseph L. Mankiewicz.  Director: George Stevens.  Screenplay: Ring Lardner, Jr., Michael Kanin.  Assistant Director: Robert Golden.  Camera: Joseph Ruttenberg.  Editor: Frank Sullivan.  Sound: Douglas Shearer.  Art Directors: Cedric Gibbons, Randall Duell.  Set Decorator: Edwin B. Willis.  Music: Franz Waxman.  Costumes: Adrian.

Cast:  Spencer Tracy (Sam Craig), Katherine Hepburn (Tess Harding), Fay Bainter (Ellen Whitcomb), Reginald Owen (Clayton), Minor Watson (William Harding), William Bendix (Pinkie Peters), Gladys Blake (Flo Peters), Dan Tobin (Gerald), Roscoe Karns (Phil Whittaker), Sara Haden (Matron), Edith Evanson (Alma), George Kezas (Chris).

(Hepburn)  “I’m afraid I’m a little tall for you, Mr. Tracy.”  (Joseph L. Mankiewicz)  “Don’t worry, Kate, he’ll soon cut you down to size.”  With these words, one of the most enduring and successful screen couples was introduced before the first of the nine films they would make together over a quarter of a century.

It is perhaps ironic that the firsts film which was to bring together two of the most eager opponents in the “battle of the sexes” films of the Hollywood comedies of the 40’s, should have been entirely engineered by Katherine Hepburn who brought the screenplay to the attention of Louis B. Mayer, acting as literary agent, and managed to secure for herself not only the title role, but choice of director and co-star.  Rumour had it that she chose Stevens to direct because they were dating at the time, but it is more likely that she chose him because George Cukor was busy.  There is no question that she wanted Tracy for the role of Sam Craig.

In 1942, much was made of the gruff, no-nonsense Tracy character’s ability to subdue the imperious, ice-maiden Hepburn character in the film.  The screenplay so closely paralleled the off–screen personalities of the stars that the audiences immediately confused the two personas of Tracy and Hepburn in a way that was to last throughout their entire careers and ensure their popularity as the much-loved American ideal couple.  Woman of the Year also reflected the two most popular pastimes of Americans–politics and baseball–in a subtly satirical way, by making the female lead a serious poolitical columnist and the male lead a (serious) sportswriter.  The confusions and contradictions extend to the two stars’ views on acting:  Hepburn maintains “Show me an actress who isn’t a personality and you’ll show me a woman who isn’t a star.  A star’s personality has to shine through.”; whereas, Tracy felt “Acting is not he noblest profession in the world, but there are things lower than acting (…)politicians give you something to look down on from time to time.”  Throughout their films, Tracy and Hepburn managed to bring the contradictory elements of their attitudes and natures into a blending which each complemented i n a unique way, so that “the easy give-and-take of their performances seems so much a duet by intimates.”  (Judith Christ)

The intrigue of Woman of the Year (much applauded by critics and audiences alike in the 1940’s) calls for the fiercely independent Tess to be “brought to her senses” and ultimately subdued by the down-to-earth, reasonable Sam.  The Tracy/Hepburn couple start out as a “democratic” team, just as the Powell/Loy couple in the Thin Man series, but the prevailing politic of the time could not allow the “liberated” Woman of the Year to fail in her responsibility as a woman–that is, her marriage was meant to take precedence over her career.  Equality could only function within the system as dictated by the social mores.  Tess’s lesson is brought about as much by her role-model’s example (Fay Bainter’s Ellen, who finally marries Tess’s father) as by the suffering she undergoes when Sam leaves her.  It is interesting that there were two endings shot for this film–one ambiguous reconciliation which implied that their efforts were doomed, and one which ended on a sentimental note, the soap-opera conclusion which was insisted on the Louis B. Mayer.  The only concession to the original ending was to have Tess struggling (albeit comically, therefore not seriously) with her role as “helpmate.”

The Tracy/Hepburn chemistry which captures the screen in this first film sets the tone for their subsequent pairings.  Their affectionate bantering and bickering worked perfectly in the context of the ideal American couple.  Katherine Hepburn has commented:  “Well, Spencer was a very sort of male man and I was a feisty female, and those stories were written with that in mind–to make that attractive to the public.”  In portraying the ruthless, aggressive Tess, Hepburn nonetheless injects a certain warmth and subtlety in a character who must be punished for her unreasonable actions.  As the very masculine, but sensitive Sam, Tracy reveals the integrity which characterizes most of his strong, assertive roles.

Among the supporting players, Fay Bainter is well-cast as the mother-figure to Hepburn.  The determination of her famous gaze and her soft, rational voice combine to establish her as the ideal to which Tess strives.  William Bendix, in his first role, scores as the bartender in a humourous portrayal of an ex-fighter.  Minor Watson, as Tess’s father, and Reginald Owen as her editor, are both successful.  And Dan Tobin was appreciated by the critics in his amusing portrayal of Tess’s secretary, and can be seen as the foil to the Tracy character in terms of the “virility” of the male hero.

George Stevens was known as the director most sympathetic towards his actors, with a special instinct for comedy and for allowing the actors to carry the film.  Even though Woman of the Year was seen as an attempt by Stevens to venture into Cukor territory, Stevens was praised for the dramatic sincerity and breadth of characterization which he achieved.  In speaking of the Tracy/Hepburn team, Stevens has said of their acting techniques:  “She ‘worried the bone’; he just took it and padded off with it.  Slowly.”  The exposition and the witty dialogue reveal that Stevens managed to channel the opposing styles of the two principals in an excellent way.  (Although the most derogatory of remarks, wisely left to Roscoe Karns rather than to Spencer Tracy, “Women should be kept illiterate and clean, like canaries”, might not be viewed with as much amusement today).

Woman of the Year was an excellent production, with the camera work, lighting and ssets, as well as the acting, remarkably polished into an emotional and intriguing comedy of the 40’s.  While modern audiences prefer to dwell on the nostalgic, witty sophistication of the period, it cannot be denied that the “moral” lesson of the film was fully appreciated at that time.  Perhaps the only element which seems bizarre today is the scene where Tracy takes back the orphan which Hepburn had adopted to enhance her image as “woman of the year”, the implication being that for the marriage to work, children would be an intrusion.  Since modern marriage encompasses shared parenting as well as development of careers, we are reminded once again that, in the 40’s, marriage traditionally meant motherhood, and therefore Tess’s independence would be threatened were she to accommodate herself to this role as well.  The final irony in connection with Woman of the Year is that Katherine Hepburn was in fact named McCall’s “Woman of the Year” in 1970–“…honored as a woman not an actress…She is a raving individual.  We should have more like her.”  She may not have been the perfect “woman” in 1942, but she has achieved the honour in the modern view.  And once again, the confusion between actors and their roles is complete.

Notes by Geraldine Koohtow