Film review: The Iron Petticoat
The night before last I happened to luck in to a Katharine Hepburn film I'd never seen, The Iron Petticoat with Bob Hope. I'd always known that it wasn't one of her best, but I was interested to see it anyway, and as it turns out, it's pretty uneven, but there are some redeeming features to it that make it worth checking out, even with its flaws.
To me, there are inevitable comparisons between Iron Petticoat and two of Hepburn's early films, Christopher Strong and Sylvia Scarlett. In Christopher Strong, she plays an aviatrix, and in Sylvia Scarlett she actually plays the first half of the movie impersonating a man (a fact that had a lot of 1930's moviegoers shocked to the point they walked out of the theatre). Unlike either of those movies, though, she manages to have her cake and eat it too - and stay fabulously butch while doing it.
Hepburn's Russian accent is terrible, but her Russian Air Force uniform is fucking AWESOME. We learn her character is a decorated pilot who flies MiGs and breaks the sound barrier. I love the way she carries herself in this film - with just the right amount of military swagger.
She and Hope might have clashed about their vision of the direction of the picture, but it doesn't translate on screen. In fact, the interesting thing about this movie is that the butch woman captures the man's attention before she puts on the feminine outfit.
I love this little moment between them, where she says "I kiss you as a soldier" and then gives him a comradely kiss - his reaction is very natural, and in general Hope's performance in this is a lot less broad than usual. He's a little more hard bitten, a little less manic, and it works. Sadly, he did have the script doctored with too many jokes (the source of much of the Hepburn/Hope friction), and you're left wondering how he would have come across without relying on the old crutches. It's too bad he didn't have the confidence to take the risk.
Hepburn's character eventually gets dolled up, as butch girls always do, but unlike in Sylvia Scarlett, she does eventually go back to the uniform.
There's a bit of drama and a lot of ridiculousness, and in the end, Hepburn's character triumphs, not through Hope trying to save her, as he attempts to do, but through the vagaries of Russian politics, which sounds implausible until you remember the wildly violent pendulum swings of the Stalin era. You do have to wonder how life in the States will treat her considering the Americans do not have women flying supersonic jets, but I can't help but think she would've found a way to write her own rulebook, just like Hepburn did. :)
This entry was also posted on Dreamwidth at http://lamardeuse.dreamwidth.org/1056344.html . Please feel free to comment at either journal.
To me, there are inevitable comparisons between Iron Petticoat and two of Hepburn's early films, Christopher Strong and Sylvia Scarlett. In Christopher Strong, she plays an aviatrix, and in Sylvia Scarlett she actually plays the first half of the movie impersonating a man (a fact that had a lot of 1930's moviegoers shocked to the point they walked out of the theatre). Unlike either of those movies, though, she manages to have her cake and eat it too - and stay fabulously butch while doing it.
Hepburn's Russian accent is terrible, but her Russian Air Force uniform is fucking AWESOME. We learn her character is a decorated pilot who flies MiGs and breaks the sound barrier. I love the way she carries herself in this film - with just the right amount of military swagger.
She and Hope might have clashed about their vision of the direction of the picture, but it doesn't translate on screen. In fact, the interesting thing about this movie is that the butch woman captures the man's attention before she puts on the feminine outfit.
I love this little moment between them, where she says "I kiss you as a soldier" and then gives him a comradely kiss - his reaction is very natural, and in general Hope's performance in this is a lot less broad than usual. He's a little more hard bitten, a little less manic, and it works. Sadly, he did have the script doctored with too many jokes (the source of much of the Hepburn/Hope friction), and you're left wondering how he would have come across without relying on the old crutches. It's too bad he didn't have the confidence to take the risk.
Hepburn's character eventually gets dolled up, as butch girls always do, but unlike in Sylvia Scarlett, she does eventually go back to the uniform.
There's a bit of drama and a lot of ridiculousness, and in the end, Hepburn's character triumphs, not through Hope trying to save her, as he attempts to do, but through the vagaries of Russian politics, which sounds implausible until you remember the wildly violent pendulum swings of the Stalin era. You do have to wonder how life in the States will treat her considering the Americans do not have women flying supersonic jets, but I can't help but think she would've found a way to write her own rulebook, just like Hepburn did. :)
This entry was also posted on Dreamwidth at http://lamardeuse.dreamwidth.org/1056344.html . Please feel free to comment at either journal.