Assim Amam as Mulheres

None too subtle story of a famous aviatrix (Hepburn -- the movie calls her a "girl flier") in love with a married nobleman (Clive). They put off consumating their affair, even muttering to each other in one ridiculous scene about how "special" they are. Burke turns in a quality performance given a very standard mother role, giving her character the convincing quality it needs to withstand the transition from anger to frustration to final acceptance of the situation. A story that could not have been filmed this way 2 or 3 years later. Includes Hepburn in her infamous "moth suit." Clive does well, and Hepburn is great, but given how it's written and (especially) how she plays it, it's no surprise this film did nothing to improve her standing in the eyes of the more prurient elements in the audience. Perhaps, even, some of their later vindictiveness (including placing her on the list of so-called "box-office poison") could be seen as their own reaction to her character transferred onto Katherine Hepburn. Well directed and photographed. Unconvincing ending unhinges the movie in its final reel, but I guess last reel reconciliations by way of death were soon to be the rule in Hollywood (as they always had been in more conservative film centers), so it's good Selznick got in fairly early in the game. Will be remembered more by Hepburn's fans than by fans of good, solid movies, because she provides many of its most memorable moments.

The film does a wonderful job of integrating newsreel footage with its narrative. I assume that Lindbergh's triumphal Broadway procession after his return from Paris in 1927 was the basis for Darrington's ticker tape parade after her round the world flight. It was hard to believe that her aircraft insisted on such a dangerous entrance to its cockpit. The pilot had to climb in while only a couple of feet from a rotating propeller (or "airscrew" as the Brits would say). Hepburn is utterly convincing as an aviation obsessed and sexually neutral aristocrat. Her love affair with Strong is nicely contrasted with that of his daughter with her boyfriend. The film also shows how a missed appointment -- insignificant to one person but all the world to the other -- can have fatal consequences. Well-made, well-sequenced -- the kind of film they used to make in wonderful black and white.

Katharine Hepburn is a beautiful and accomplished aviatrix in "Christopher Strong," a 1933 film also starring Clive Owen and Billie Burke, and directed by Dorothy Arzner.

Hepburn's role of Lady Cynthia is loosely based on Amelia Earhart, a young, ambitious career woman who is not interested in marriage and home but rather accomplishment. She's an early feminist, and the role is perfect for Hepburn, who with her androgynous looks and strong performances would go on to play many such roles in her very long career.

"Christopher Strong" is of interest because it's early Hepburn, has a feminist theme in the early '30s, and also because it's pre-Code. Arzner does a great job depicting the love affair of Hepburn and Owen and yet shows nothing, with a hand reaching up and checking the time on a small clock...then the light is turned off and plunges the room into darkness after the lovers exchange a few words.

The problem with the movie is that it's badly dated, a '30s melodrama with tremulous, "we must be honorable," pip-pip and all that rot dialogue.

Owen tells everyone at a party that he will never be unfaithful to his wife, that it is a moral charge he holds high - and seconds later he meets Hepburn and you can tell he's already falling. Owen is an odd choice of a romantic partner - he's not exactly the man one would give up everything for.

A bigger problem is the performance of Billie Burke, a fine actress. She is extremely sympathetic as the suffering wife - so sympathetic, in fact, and Hepburn seems so callous about the whole thing for most of the film, that one sides with what I'm sure is the wrong person.

Also, putting up with your husband's infidelity and not saying anything brings us right back into aggressive non-feminism.

I am forced to agree with one of the other comments - yes, it is directed by an important director, yes, it stars an important, legendary star, yes, it's early feminism, and yes, it's not that great a movie, rather, an artifact.

Worth seeing? To catch Hepburn in that moth costume - absolutely.

This early Katherine Hepburn picture about a daring woman pilot united the most liberated, confident and assertive female in film history, Hepburn herself, with the early sound era's most tragic female victim, Helen Chandler. Chandler was a gifted actress who gained film immortality as the exquisite blonde Mina in Dracula, only to fall victim to bad parts, bad choices, and a casual drinking habit that cost her roles and swiftly became compulsive and fatal alcoholism.

Haunting and heart-wrenching in the extreme, the film almost unintentionally sets up the brave Lady Cynthia (Hepburn) in direct contrast to the embittered, tormented and weak-willed Monica (Chandler.) Hepburn is the daring lady pilot enjoying a wicked affair with strong, solid Sir Christopher Strong, while Chandler is Strong's weak daughter, the jealous and resentful Monica.

"Of course I do whatever I choose," Hepburn announces, striding into the drawing room in her daring and very masculine attire. "What woman doesn't?" The only woman wearing pants in this movie, Hepburn hardly seems to notice that other women lack her strength. Only a few feet away we see a lovely blonde on the sofa, her eyes blazing and her hands shaking as she gulps down a drink in helpless defiance. Helen Chandler hardly needed to act as she portrays a woman whose guts have been torn out already, but her smallest gestures are still remarkable. Taking the first drink, waiting for the effect, shuddering with relief. The constant fidgeting, the inability to look anyone in the eye. The twitching of her hand when trying to wave off questions about her drinking.

As the film unfolds, Monica is supposed to be spoiled and disdainful, but Helen Chandler willingly or not somehow puts across an almost pitiable quality of spineless dependency. Monica lives in terror that her father will discover her drinking, yet hates the laughing, confident and healthy woman who has engaged his interest. Trapped in her own life of appearances and lies, her weak, sweet-faced mother can do nothing but look on worriedly as angry Monica stews on the sofa, either puffing greedily on a cigarette or gulping another drink.

In the big "party" scene, Hepburn is is calm and triumphant, while Chandler's Helen is just the opposite -- her laughter too loud, her movements too frantic, her wild gestures almost a savage parody of youthful enjoyment. It's like there's a fiend inside her, a demon who has taken the soul and left only a fragile and hopeless shell.

The demon was alcohol, and by the time this movie was made Helen Chandler was only a shell of her former self.

It's ironical this film to be titled as the main male character, above all when this raises among film classics for its accurate depiction, not only of the main female one, but also of the female secondary roles. It is probably due to the fact that it is directed by a woman, but the talent of Arzner goes beyond through accurate cinematography and a sense for lyrical melodrama far from the soapy tone of the majority of its contemporaneous. Katharine Hepburn is exulting as the brave woman always a step further its era, here in love for the first time with a married man. Particularly moving is the last sequence, with Hepburn trying to achieve the altitude record with her airplane as she confronts the most relevant facts of her story. A little gem to be discovered.