Justin Ray
Second Unit
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2011
- Messages
- 460
- Real Name
- Justin Ray
With the upcoming release of The Iron Petticoat on DVD/Blu-Ray, all but five of Katharine Hepburn’s cinematic and telefilm efforts have made it to the DVD format. I know what some of you may think: five films? He’s going to gripe about five missing films? Much of Spencer Tracy’s 1930s work remains MIA, the majority of Irene Dunne’s RKO work sits in dilapidation, countless silent works (Greed, The Wind, and The Crowd to name a few) silently stay in the vastness of the W.B. vaults, and he wants to complain about five films. And, to dig the nail a bit deeper, half of them are, by most standards, forgettable. For instance, how many would consider Grace Quigley, Hepburn’s final big screen venture, a memorable cinematic experience? Or, how many people are knocking down doors and shooting nasty emails to the powers that be in hopes of re-experiencing the dynamite chemistry between Hepburn and Ryan O’Neal in The Man Upstairs? Answers: No one and very few. Even now, I admit it: most of Hepburn’s acclaimed and best work already exists on home video.
As a Hepburn fanatic, however, I’m determined and impatient for the release of these last five titles (A Bill of Divorcement, Love Among the Ruins, Grace Quigley, The Man Upstairs, and This Can’t be Love) on R0 MOD or R1 DVD. In reviewing this list, it baffles me that A Bill of Divorcement, Hepburn’s first film AND only one with the John Barrymore, hasn’t received a home video release since the days of VHS. Likewise, Love Among the Ruins, a co-starring vehicle for Hepburn and Sir Laurence Olivier (directed by 10-time Hepburn collaborator George Cukor), received two VHS releases, but has yet to appear in a digital format. The other titles hardly offer the best material for Hepburn’s talents; still, she adds her delightful charisma and vulnerability to each role, which makes the best (This Can’t be Love) and the worst (Grace Quigley and The Man Upstairs) of this drivel watchable. Drivel or not, a Hepburn film is a Hepburn film, which is always enough for me.
And yet, there must be a better reason to release these titles than the oooing and cooing of a Kate Hepburn devotee. Granted, such a reason remains enough for me; but it’s more than satisfying fans or filling the missing pieces of her undaunted oeuvre. Completing the trajectory offers contemporary viewers a chance to watch her trajectory, experience the pensive and malleable depths of her sixty-two year career, and study her growth during, between, and over all of her films. In this light, films are more than escapist entertainment: they allow the viewer to interpret the images and actions on the screen in terms of the actor’s craft, the actor’s sociocultural influence, and how/why such craft and influence might matter to us as spectators, as critics, and as members of humanity. A deep need remains to release, as much as possible, all of the films of our past, from the best of the best to the very worst of the worst. In capturing the remainder of Hepburn’s career on home video, we do more than complete the gaps—we ensure that the star studies aspects of cinematic discourse continue.
As a Hepburn fanatic, however, I’m determined and impatient for the release of these last five titles (A Bill of Divorcement, Love Among the Ruins, Grace Quigley, The Man Upstairs, and This Can’t be Love) on R0 MOD or R1 DVD. In reviewing this list, it baffles me that A Bill of Divorcement, Hepburn’s first film AND only one with the John Barrymore, hasn’t received a home video release since the days of VHS. Likewise, Love Among the Ruins, a co-starring vehicle for Hepburn and Sir Laurence Olivier (directed by 10-time Hepburn collaborator George Cukor), received two VHS releases, but has yet to appear in a digital format. The other titles hardly offer the best material for Hepburn’s talents; still, she adds her delightful charisma and vulnerability to each role, which makes the best (This Can’t be Love) and the worst (Grace Quigley and The Man Upstairs) of this drivel watchable. Drivel or not, a Hepburn film is a Hepburn film, which is always enough for me.
And yet, there must be a better reason to release these titles than the oooing and cooing of a Kate Hepburn devotee. Granted, such a reason remains enough for me; but it’s more than satisfying fans or filling the missing pieces of her undaunted oeuvre. Completing the trajectory offers contemporary viewers a chance to watch her trajectory, experience the pensive and malleable depths of her sixty-two year career, and study her growth during, between, and over all of her films. In this light, films are more than escapist entertainment: they allow the viewer to interpret the images and actions on the screen in terms of the actor’s craft, the actor’s sociocultural influence, and how/why such craft and influence might matter to us as spectators, as critics, and as members of humanity. A deep need remains to release, as much as possible, all of the films of our past, from the best of the best to the very worst of the worst. In capturing the remainder of Hepburn’s career on home video, we do more than complete the gaps—we ensure that the star studies aspects of cinematic discourse continue.
