USA r unsettled citizen
taking the law into her own hands? That is the question that finds
Adam (Tracy) and his wife Amanda (Hepburn) at loggerheads. To him it
is an open-and-shut assault case. To her it is a lot more -- a test
case for feminism. Were the sexes reversed, she claims, the defendant
would be let off scot-free, but because Doris Attinger is a woman, she
is going to have to go to trial.
Adam and Amanda begin their legal battle royale in a goodhumored
spirit at first. But while he tries to cut the case down to as small a
size as possible, she uses every opportunity to blow it up and make it
a larger feminist issue. Frayed nerves and short tempers soon make for
seriously wounded feelings, as the lawyers find themselves to be
nearly as estranged from one another as their clients. Being a comedy,
all's well with the couple by fadeout time, but not before each is
allowed to make a telling point or two in support of the sex they
represent.
While working feminist politics into a satirical comedy would not
raise eyebrows today, in 1949 it was a rather daring thing for a
mainstream Hollywood film to do. With World War II over, women, who
had held down all sorts of jobs during its course, were being
encouraged to leave the workplace and return to the
homefront. Katharine Hepburn's fiercely independent screen image was,
of course, never tied to anything of that sort. If anyone embodied the
notion that a woman could do anything she wanted if she put her mind
to it, it was Hepburn. Spencer Tracy fit beautifully into this design
as her male counterpart -- tough, unflappable, but with a warm and
loving heart. Under George Cukor's brilliant direction, this perfect
pairing of parts and personas moves with such wit and skill that it
stands as a master class in the art of high comedy performing.
Great as they are, Tracy and Hepburn are not the whole show in
Adam's Rib. For in many ways the third star was the film's
director, George Cukor. Beginning his career in the theater, Cukor
came to Hollywood in 1929, just as sound filmmaking was beginning to
demand directors who knew how to make actors talk as well as
move. Quickly carving out a distinguished career for himself as an
adaptor of both successful stage plays (Dinner at Eight,
Camille) and classic novels (David Copperfield,
Little Women), Cukor was one of the most highly regarded and
sought after directors in Hollywood history. Besides Tracy and
Hepburn, with whom he made several films, stars like Greta Garbo, Joan
Crawford, Ingrid Bergman, Judy Garland, and Rex Harrison gave their
very finest performances under his direction. Never fearful of a film
appearing too theatrical or "stagy," Cukor, with great subtlety and
taste, altered forever Hollywood's conceptions of how a film ought to
look.
One example of this in Adam's Rib is the scene in which Adam
and Amanda get dressed for dinner (Chapter 2). Keeping the camera
stationary and concentrating our attention on the dialogue and the
natural movements of the players, Cukor creates one of the most purely
cinematic scenes in film history out of a sequence of events that
largely keeps the principal players off screen. Because of the energy
they bring to their every entrance and exit, the scene becomes a
virtual ballet.
More impressive still is the justly celebrated jailhouse scene
(Chapter 4) in which the brilliant Judy Holliday is given full rein in
creating the character of the hapless Doris Attinger. Again the camera
does not move. As Cukor described it to writer Gavin Lambert: "There
was no reason to move it, of course -- and we couldn't move it anyway,
it all took place in the cell. It was Judy Holliday's first big scene
in the picture, and in those days there was a lot of chatter about
'scene stealing,' but I never knew what the hell that meant. You can't
steal a movie because it's all controlled by the camera and the
editing. The most you can do is use some little tricks and maybe
distort it. They used to say 'Judy Holliday steals scenes,' but this
was basically her scene. It was shot full on her, with a three-quarter
view of Kate's back. Kate wasn't being generous or anything, and Judy
wasn't stealing anything -- it was how the text indicated the scene
should be played. (And an audience knows Kate, knows her voice. You
don't have to keep cutting to her.) Not only did Kate play back to
camera, but she indicated, as a good actress can do, 'that's the way
it's supposed to be.' She and Spence always played together that way
too. It's an important element of real collaboration."
This same spirit of collaboration is apparent in every aspect of
Adam's Rib. Tom Ewell and Jean Hagen are hilarious as the
straying spouse and his paramour. David Wayne is excellent as the
songwriter friend of the lawyer, whose attention towards Amanda drives
Adam up the wall (the song he composes was written especially for the
film by Cole Porter). And such veteran performers as Hope Emerson,
Polly Moran, and Clarence Kolb contribute fine supporting turns.
Viewers are likely to be as divided as the characters as to what
the Attinger case represents in the "Battle of the Sexes." But whether
you take Adam's side or Amanda's, you are not likely to be deadlocked
in finding Adam's Rib "guilty" of being one of the finest
comedies to ever come out of Hollywood.
--DAVID EHRENSTEIN
Credits
Director: George Cukor
Producer: Lawrence Weingarten
Screenplay: Ruth Gordon, Garson Kanin
Director of Photography: George J. Folsey, A.S.C.
Art Directors: Cedric Gibbons, William Ferrari
Film Editor: George Boemler
Recording Supervisor: Douglas Shearer
Set Decorations: Edwin B. Willis
Music: Miklos Rozsa
The song "Farewell, Amanda" by Cole Porter
Transfer
This edition of Adam's Rib was transferred from a 35mm master
print made from the original negative.