Screenland (Nov 1940-Apr 1941)

Katharine Hepburn astride White Rose, one of Liz Whitney's horses. The beautiful nag supports Kate in "The Philadelphia Story," comedy of that city's "Main Line" society. What's This About A New Hepburn? Continued from page 63 everyone else looking like the Dragon's Daughter who had just dipped into a chicken's entrails. Her hair too was as natural as sun and rain. She wore it in a very un-chic manner, in fact people referred to it as Hepburn's "mop." Her freckles didn't seem to dismay her in the least — she made no effort to conceal them, not even with a speck of powder. She looked as if she used soap and water on her face, often. She looked natural, and wholesome. And very un-glamorous. With all the Glamor Girls driving up to the studio in long slinky limousines with liveried chauffeurs (you should have seen Miss Constance Bennett's car) K. Hepburn chose to drive herself to work every morning in a station wagon. Her Hattie Carnegies were sadly lacking — she was never seen in anything except slacks and pants, and pretty badly rumpled ones at that. Hollywood let out a well-bred gasp. In fact, they still tell over at the studio about the time Hepburn finished a picture and decided to give the crew a party afterwards. "Wait until I dress," she is said to have called to them. A few minutes later she returned — the only difference was that her pants were pressed ! She didn't wrap herself in ermines and go to premieres. She didn't go to the Countess di Frasso's parties — or any parties, for that matter. She didn't go with one "wolf" after another. Her "private life" she kept to herself. After she was misquoted horribly by some writers, who never should have been writers in the first place, she sank deeper into her shell, and refused to see the press. Some rather putrid pictures were tossed at her and she complained bitterly, just as any other star would have done, but immediately they called her temperamental. What the press didn't call her, the Glamor Girls did. Hollywood has come a long way since 1932. The Big Shots back East who shell out the dough said, "Fun's fun. But playtime is over. Now get down to work." Budgets and salaries were slashed and extravagances came to an abrupt end. Hollywood began to grow up. Hollywood began to think, and thinking is always disastrous to anything that's phony. The Glamor Girl with her affectations and artificiality began to look awfully silly. Then in 1939 came the War in Europe. Overnight Hollywood became adult. It took eight years for Hollywood to catch up with Katharine Hepburn. Her station wagon today doesn't cause the slightest ripple. Practically everybody in Hollywood has a station wagon. It's nothing unusual to see Bette Davis, the Errol Flynns, the Dick Powells, the Gary Coopers arrive at a night club or a premiere in a station wagon. (And when I think what a beating Hepburn took because she merely drove to a studio in a station wagon ! ) Today you will find the top-notch movie stars — Claudette Colbert, Hedy Lamarr, Joan Crawford, Irene Dunne, Ginger Rogers, Roz Russell, Bette Davis, nearly all of the stars — appearing in slacks, or pants, in public places. Not at premieres, of course, but on shopping trips, sports events, etc., you will see plenty of faces sans make-up, and plenty of hair flying in the breeze. And, too, Hollywood now thinks it's perfectly all right for a star to stay at home nights if she wants to, and not flaunt herself around at parties and night clubs. It doesn't make her "peculiar" now. It's all right too for a star to be frank and honest now. She isn't considered "rude." (And when I think what a beating Hepburn took because she came out with honest answers.) So I say again, that it's Hollywood that's changed, and not Katharine Hepburn. And now that they have landed on the same plane at last they ought to be very, very happy. And from all I can gather they are. I had the pleasure of visiting Hepburn on the set of "The Philadelphia Story" one afternoon recently — except it wasn't the set, it was the back lot. It was the scene where Hepburn, John Howard, Virginia Weidler, and Roland Young start out for a jolly canter, and I guess Metro didn't want four horses cluttering up one of their nice air-conditioned stages. Hepburn was riding "White Rose," one of Liz Whitney's horses, and also wearing her riding habit. "Mr. Barry told me that he had Liz Whitney in mind when he wrote 'The Philadelphia Story,' " Hepburn told me later. "The girl I play was sort of written around Liz. So you see there is more of her in the picture than just her horse and clothes." When I first came on the set, or the back lot, I found George Cukor, the director of the picture, stretched out in a studio chair reading one of those very sexy pictorial magazines — or maybe he wasn't reading. I flopped in the chair beside him, and Hepburn, who had been doing still pictures, soon joined us. She has exactly the right kind of friendly handshake. "Kate," said Cukor, "I want to warn you. This is the magazine Liza writes for. Be careful what you say." "That's fine," said Hepburn, "I've a lot of bathing suit art I can give her to illustrate it with." She threw her leg over the side of the chair, lit a cigarette, and explained to me the inner workings of a movie camera she had with her. It seems she is a fiend for taking moving pictures. Her entire family is. "When my sister married not long ago," she said, "we showed pictures of her taken when she was a child, at the wedding. The early color pictures I took are fading. But color is much better now and will last forever." She proceeded to take a few shots of everyone around, including myself (I'm sure that will never be shown at anyone's wedding.) Miss Hepburn demonstrating a shipmodel in this scene from the film version of "The Philadelphia Story," Philip Barry's stage success, which also stars Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart. 90