Adam's Rib

Feminist attorney Katharine Hepburn has a new cause. She freely admits to doing a bit of ambulance chasing to get the case of Judy Holliday who shot her husband Tom Ewell after catching him in a love nest with floozy Jean Hagen.

Problem is that of all the cases that he could have been assigned, Spencer Tracy, Hepburn's husband and assistant District Attorney, he got assigned to prosecute Holiday. I guess Spence felt a little of what Bogey felt when Ingrid Bergman came back into his life in Casablanca.

Men down through the ages have certainly had the right to shoot the lovers of their wives when caught, why not women argues Hepburn. The case gets quite a bit of notoriety and of course it puts a strain on the marriage.

But the plot is sure the right vehicle for a lot of great lines and situations. This is Spence and Kate at their very best. Of the comedies they did, this is my favorite, just like State of the Union is my favorite among the more serious films.

Probably Adam's Rib's best known scene is when defense witness Hope Emerson picks up Spencer Tracy in a visual attempt to show feminine prowess and power. Even after seeing it several times you still will laugh yourself silly.

For Adam's Rib, George Cukor denuded Broadway of stars to play in support of Tracy and Hepburn. Making film debuts were David Wayne, Tom Ewell, Judy Holliday, and Jean Hagen.

Wayne is particularly funny and if Adam's Rib was made today, he'd certainly be more explicitly gay. He's the next door neighbor of Spence and Kate and some of the cracks Tracy aims in his direction would be considered downright homophobic. But let's face it, Wayne is an obnoxious scamp and that bit of vengeance that Tracy wreaks upon him and Hepburn in the climax involving licorice is a great cinematic moment.

Adam's Rib is Tracy and Hepburn at the very top of their game and I think folks who are not necessarily fans of their's would be amused.

Adam's Rib (George Cukor, 1949) is often hailed as the best "battle-of-the-sexes" comedy on celluloid, but it's beset with the same problems as the bulk of these Tracy-Hepburn vehicles: dated social observation that's tricky to navigate today, a lack of laughs and dramatic sequences that are just too heavy. The leads are a blissfully married couple who clash when they take opposing sides in a murder trial: assistant DA Spence leads the prosecution of wronged wife Judy Holliday (who is magnificent), while crusading feminist Kate leaps to her defence. Holliday plugged philandering husband Tom Ewell, you see, then fired wildly around the flinching floozy he was nuzzling up to, Jean Hagen.

The acting is absolutely stunning - universally superb - and there's smart use of newspaper inserts and a puppet show motif, but the material is spotty and chunky, with humour arriving in slabs rather than being weaved through the narrative. Kudos to former stage star David Wayne (he played Og in the smash Broadway version of Finian's Rainbow) for being so formidably irritating as Hepburn's extremely camp confidante and suitor. His reading of Cole Porter's specially adapted song Farewell, Amanda is a rare moment of respite in a teeming sea of annoyance. Hepburn asked her favourite director, Cukor, to favour Holliday in the filming of their scenes and leaked stories to the press about Judy's revelatory performance enraging both the leads. The ploy was designed to land her apprentice the lead in the screen adaptation of Born Yesterday, which she had initiated on stage. It worked - and she took home the Best Actress Oscar the following year.

As for Adam's Rib, it's impressive and memorable but, despite all that, resolutely not a classic.

Adam's Rib turned out to be a delightfully cheeky romp with a kicker sense of humour, all acted out with ease by Spencer Tracy & Katherine Hepburn. I love how the film veers from the courtroom right into their marital home and becomes not just about a battle of wills, but a battle of the sexes as well, much fun watching this famous couple go at each other, both at work and at home. The film benefits greatly from the appearance of the lovely Judy Holliday in her breakthrough role, and it amused me greatly to see David Wayne playing a shifty character as I remember him fondly from the Twilight Zone episode Escape Clause in 1959. 8/10

Of the nine films which paired Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, Adam's Rib is often considered the best. Writers Ruth Gordon and Garson Kanin were friends of the famous couple and wrote the film specifically for them. Kate insisted the film be directed by her favorite screen director, George Cukor, who services the brilliant writing and on-screen chemistry with his trademark elegant staging and unobtrusive style. The result is a comedy that remains the best "battle of the sexes" films ever made.

When Doris Attinger (Judy Holliday) discovers her husband in the arms of another woman, she opens fire and is charged with attempted murder. Enter Adam and Amanda Bonner (Tracy and Hepburn), married lawyers whose lives are turned upside down when Adam is assigned to the prosecution. An ardent proponent of women's rights, Amanda decides to represent Doris, claiming that if the sex of the parties on trial were switched, the jury would feel differently. This conflict of interests creates friction in the courtroom as well as the Bonners' home.

Spencer Tracy, with his confident and relaxed screen presence, paints Adam as a man quite comfortable with his wife's force and ambition. But Adam grows upset with Amanda as the media spotlight finds the case and magnifies it into a cause for women's rights. He accuses Amanda with disregard for the law, reminding her that no one, man or woman, has the right to take the law into their own hands, and that Amanda is using the case for her own selfish purposes. The script is careful not to polarize Adam's interests. He reveres the law and has no special affection for Doris' husband. In opposing him, Katherine Hepburn manages to retain her signature strength while also portraying Amanda as a loving wife who fears the damage her marriage may sustain because of the case and its publicity. Amanda alleges that Doris is doomed to an unfair trial because the general public irrationally feels male infidelity is much more permissible than female infidelity.

The courtroom becomes a spectacle when Amanda puts a circus strong-woman on the stand and asks her to lift Adam. Tracy rises to the occasion, with an angry outburst that is empowered by his otherwise calm and restrained performance. Despite their marital bliss before the case, Adam admits that he likes "two sexes" and doesn't care for having a wife who is a "new woman" and a "competitor". This rare outpouring causes Amanda to realize just how personally Adam is taking the trial, and that it could result in their divorce.

Ruth Gordon and Garson Kanin deserve special recognition for creating a balanced on-screen battle in what has always been a controversial debate - gender equality. Amanda's plight is shaded by her experiences as a woman, and Adam is presented as a man who admits to always trying to hear her side of the story. That their marriage was a happy one before the trial is an indication of the equality they had achieved together. Amanda is, in fact, equal to Adam in both the career and financial worlds. To create a sparring partner for Amanda, Gordon and Kanin could easily have presented a misogynist, or even a lovable but cantankerous traditionalist. They were wiser to portray Adam as a man who simply refused to see the case as one for gender equality, but for vigilantism.

As directed by George Cukor, Adam's Rib features a great many long takes that play uninterrupted. Even during moments of action, like the scene in which both Bonners are getting dressed for dinner, Cukor utilizes minimal staging and camera movement. The camera points directly across the Bonners' bedroom, with her dressing room off frame left and his off frame right. They shout at each other, poking their heads into the frame, occasionally walking through the frame and back again. And later, when Adam discovers Kip and Amanda together, the ensuing fight is framed similarly, with the camera looking down the apartment hallway, characters popping into frame from the left or right and back again. This isn't to say Cukor doesn't move his camera much. There are several decisive camera movements, but Cukor's sparing use of them, and his tendency to rely more on well-composed master angles gives the film an elegant, traditional Hollywood style. The film also benefits from a lively score by Mikos Rozsa and a catchy Cole Porter tune, "Farewell Amanda". Jean Hagen, unforgettable for her comic turn in Singin' in the Rain, again demonstrates her talent for comedy as the "other woman".

Cukor must have realized that with Tracy and Hepburn on screen, all the camera really had to do was follow them, frame them, and let the sparks fly.

The screenplay and the actors' off-screen romance are gifts to the film. We feel for both of them, and believe in what both are trying to achieve. It is rare that a film about difference and equality plays so fairly to all parties involved, and also rare that such a sensitive subject can retain its comic appeal. But for all the film says about equality, Adam's Rib ultimately serves to remind us that when it comes to Hepburn and Tracy, there is no equal. - Scott Schirmer

Lawyers Spencer Tracy (Adam) and Katharine Hepburn (Amanda) spend the film on opposite sides during the trial of Judy Holliday (Mrs Attinger) who is up on a charge of attempted murder after she shoots her husband Tom Ewell (Mr Attinger). Given that the film is a comedy, it can only really end one way for Judy Holliday.

Tracy and Hepburn undoubtedly work well together but the film has occasions where these two characters talk across each other and it just seems too shouty. It may be realistic but it certainly is not entertaining. Hepburn tends to over-exaggerate and lay on the dramatics when she acts and Spencer Tracy is clearly the better actor of the two. Actually, the best character is that played by Tom Ewell. He steals the film in all his scenes because he is genuinely funny. Judy Holliday is good if you can get past her terrible voice but musician neighbour David Wayne (Kip) is awful – not in the fact that he is meant to be an annoying character, but in the fact that he doesn't know how to convincingly portray a realistic person. He plays it gay one minute, then straight another minute, he's rubbish at acting. Nothing about his character rings true.

At the heart of the film is Hepburn's ridiculous notion about women's lib and some sort of feminist ideals – you know, the sort of thing that makes women annoying. Face the facts Hepburn, Judy Holliday had just tried to kill someone for goodness sake – it's got nothing to do with gender!

It's certainly a watchable film with some amusing parts (mainly with Tom Ewell), and some annoying parts (Katharine Hepburn and every appearance of David Wayne), and overall, it's more annoying than funny. Certainly not a classic as people seem to believe because they are told that it is. Everyone has done better.