CHRISTOPHER STRONG: Blu-ray (RKO Radio Pictures, 1933) Warner Archive
Important to denote that today, the
movies of Dorothy Arzner, in spite of their oft transparent lack of quality,
never fail to get ushered to the front of the line for full-bodied
feminist/queer theory discussion, primarily as Arzner was just about the only
female exuding such influence from the director’s chair during the golden age
of Hollywood. For this rare accomplishment, she deserves a footnote – perhaps,
in the Guinness Book of World Records, not rafter-to-ceiling highest praises
for pictures that any third-rate male director could have assembled with as
much, if not more dignity, ingenuity and style. Arzner’s Christopher Strong
(1933), the disposable and meandering tale of a philandering hubby (Colin Clive
as the titular title character) and his weirdly asexual muse/aviatrix, Cynthia
Darrington (Kate ‘the great’ Hepburn doing her utmost to camouflage a woefully
undernourished character) is a pretty pedestrian affair – ‘affair’ being the
operative word. Curiouser still, Zoë Akins’ screenplay, based on Gilbert Frakau’s
novel, published the year before, is not particularly focused on Clive’s
wooden-headed/stiff-britches man of integrity. No, Arzner assures us, it is
Cynthia’s crude erotic awakening that deserves our attentions here. There is a lot of exposition, mostly devoted
to Cynthia’s platitudinal fortitude when contemplating love and death –
concepts, mostly to remain as hypothetical and foreign to her…at least, until
just before the end. As star-crossed lovers at the outset, Chris and Cynthia make
uncomplicated – and unrealistic – vows never to ask the other to change for
them. But the moral of the piece (if one can label it as such) seems to suggest,
only by remaining ironclad to one’s principles can the truest triumph over such
immorality be applied.
Given RKO Pictures had a real
winner in Hepburn, Christopher Strong is an abnormally anemic slog to
sit through. Virtually all the principal parts are deficiently cast, compounded
by Akins’ aimless prose and Arzner’s dim-witted direction. The one arguable
concession here is Hepburn who, then in her mid-twenties, convinces us her
character is still a virgin, her unbendable gender neutrality poured into
oddities in costuming (including, the now infamous glitter ‘moth’ ballgown,
complete with antenna). Cynthia’s ‘as yet’
untapped sincerity strips raw emotions she never before realized she was stifling,
a keen revelation brought gingerly forth by Hepburn’s subtler craft and,
completely to draw us to her unvarnished romantic plight. Yet, what is the point, apart from a lot of
pre-code nonsense about lovers wed to other people? Not sure. The opacity throughout
this tale renders even Hepburn’s optimism and verve for the cheeky to chalk.
Decades later, Hepburn was asked to qualify how she had fallen so swiftly from
an Oscar-winning industry darling with A Bill of Divorcement (1932) to
being branded ‘box office’ poison a scant 6 years later, and, all but ousted
from Tinsel Town, seemingly forever. Hepburn’s swift response, “Bad
pictures!” seems to brutally fit Christopher Strong. If anything, Arzner
is more concerned with the superficial disparities in sexual mores between
England (the country, only superficially depicted in this movie) and the U.S.
(the more liberally-minded bastion where the picture was actually made).
When first we meet Mr. Strong, he
is the epitome of the British gent, chewing on his pipe in a smoking jacket,
and, boning up on a dry dissertation about taxes he intends to address in Parliament’s
general assembly the following afternoon. Strong’s dutiful spouse, Lady Elaine
(Billie Burke) politely intrudes. After all, its four o’clock in the morning. And
thus, Mr. Strong’s focus shifts from dull-as-paint platitudes about the fiscal
solvency of the nation to even drearier epiphanies about the merits of marital
love. Just then, the couple’s only daughter, Monica (Helen Chandler) intervenes
into this abject tedium, pleading with Strong to accompany her as her ‘prize’
in a scavenger hunt as that rarest of males – wed for five years, yet ne’er to
have strayed. Chris is flattered and, upon rejoining Monica’s friends, proceeds
to pontificate about the glories of wedded bliss. Would any young woman find such
a dullard intoxicating? Actually, yes.
Despite being obsessed with her
chosen path as an aviatrix, Cynthia Darrington is more than intrigued by Strong’s
strength of character, especially since she has yet to venture forth in any
affairs of her own. In short order, we discover Strong knew Cynthia’s late
father. Odd then, he does not remember her. Owing to her inexperience – perhaps
– in the arena of love, Strong is smitten with Cynthia. He does not even flinch
when she proceeds to drive him home at top speeds in her motor car. Apparently,
this is all it takes for a good man’s head to be turned – both of them. Strong
and Cynthia begin an affair, almost as effortlessly rooted out by Elaine. Ever
the English rose, Elaine holds steadfast to her man and lets the affair burn
itself to dust. Chris does his level best to be the amiable man to both, and
fails miserably at keeping up this charade at home, as well as appearances
elsewhere. Presumably for comparison…or is it, competition… Monica takes up
with a married rake of her own, Harry Rawlinson (Ralph Forbes). Monica doesn’t
much care Harry has a wife. But fear not, the upper-crusty Elaine cares enough
for all of them. ‘Displaced aggression?’ Elaine bars Harry from seeing Monica,
unless accompanied by his wife. So, Harry does one better. He petitions for a
divorce. While Akins’ screenplay tries not to take sides, clearly, the axe
falls on Chris’ philandering as the more destructive influence.
Predictably, everything culminates
in a crisis. Two pregnancies – Cynthia and Monica. As Harry has left his wife for
Monica, Cynthia is forced to recalculate the error of her decision to carry Chris’
kin. It might have become interesting, except virtually every character now
becomes a passive-aggressive clod, hinting at these flagrante delicto. For a girl as utterly cautious as Cynthia, she
has certainly become much too involved in a fairly feckless/reckless romance,
fast going nowhere. Recognizing Chris will never give Elaine up, Cynthia
retreats into a bittersweet chrysalis of her own design. Immersed in an ambition
to shatter the aviation record for highest altitude, when she likely recognizes
the very nature of the exercise is suicidal, Cynthia ignores her lover’s pleas to
remain on the ground. High in the clouds, she is confronted by memories of
people she once loved, since to have shunned her. Proudly, Cynthia disengages
her oxygen mask, consumed by tears as her plane takes its nosedive into
oblivion. Of course, this leaves her as the martyr of the piece. Statues are
erected. A glowing obit is filled with remorse over the loss of a brilliant
pilot; footnoted by a squib about the Strongs sailing to America – an epitaph
to illustrate how a once self-anointed, noble gent has been brought low as the
family cuckold.
Christopher
Strong is pretty banal in its casual regard for extramarital consequences. The
title gives Colin Clive’s philandering milquetoast his one bit of meaningful
coverage in a picture otherwise dominated by Katherine Hepburn from start to
finish. Does she carry the load? Arguably, yes. Originally, the picture was
slated for Ann Harding and Leslie Howard under a completely different title: A
Great Desire. Frankau’s novel had Cynthia as a race car driver. But Arzner
and Akins based this character on Brit aviator, Amy Johnson instead. For
Hepburn, Christopher Strong marked a first in what would become a
trademark and mantra for all of Hepburn’s subsequent performances, as a
forthright, no-nonsense modern woman of the burgeoning 20th century.
It also remains the only movie in which Hepburn is the potential homewrecker. Christopher
Strong received mostly positive reviews from the critics. The public,
however, was largely disinterested. While the picture made money, it did not
produce the necessary windfall to invigorate Hepburn’s future prospects at RKO.
By year’s end, Hepburn’s initial launch as a ‘new find’ was put into even
steeper decline with four flops in rapid succession: The Lake (1933), Spitfire,
The Little Minister (both in 1934) and Break of Hearts (1935) – the latter
offset by Hepburn’s return to form in Alice Adams (also in 1935).
Afterward, she descended into another streak of forgettable character parts,
disastrously received by both the critics and the public. It would take Hepburn’s
complete exodus from Hollywood to appear on Broadway in Philip Barry’s The
Philadelphia Story (1939) to resurrect her reputation as a Hollywood
heavy-hitter.
Christopher Strong arrives on
Blu-ray via the Warner Archive. My only query here is – why? There are
so many fine performances given by Hepburn yet to see the light of day in
hi-def, beginning with the aforementioned Alice Adams, 1937’s Stage
Door and 1949’s Adam’s Rib, just for starters. Predictably, most
everything WAC commits to comes across looking stellar. Christopher Strong
is no exception. Cribbing from an original camera negative scanned in 4K before
being dumbed down to 1080p, Bert Glennon’s B&W cinematography sparkles with
renewed warmth and textures. Hepburn positively radiates in Walter Plunkett’s
shimmering ‘bug’ costume. Finite details in costuming, hair, backgrounds, etc.
belie the fact this movie is 90-years-old. Contrast is uniformly excellent. The
2.0 DTS audio is solid. There is virtually nothing to complain about here. Apart
from an original trailer, we also get two short subjects and a cartoon. Bottom
line: Christopher Strong is a wordy, cautionary tale about the foibles
and follies of illicit love. The only real strength in it is owed Kate Hepburn’s
multi-layered performance. The rest is pulpy and plush, but utterly bereft of
any forward-seeking direction. Things just happen…and then, it’s all over and
as easily forgotten. For Hepburn completionists only. The rest can pass.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
1.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
3
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