Review by kelvis

Mixed success of a newspaper film, in which hard-boiled sportswriter Tracy convinces Hepburn, a worldly wise columnist covering the Second World War, of the virtues of feminine domesticity, 1940s style. There are several convulsively funny moments, as when Tracy mistakenly appears on stage at Hepburn's feminist rally and then cannot find his way off stage. However, this putatively cosmopolitan comedy too frequently missteps: the late twentieth century viewer cringes when Tracy refers to the "towel" a turban-wearing character has on, and thoroughly dismaying is the final sequence, in which Hepburn utterly humiliates herself by inadvertently including yeast in a waffle recipe, as Tracy triumphantly looks on; woe betide all of us too busy to be handy in the kitchen. Perhaps most unforgivable is the treatment of a hapless child, a war refugee who briefly enjoys a glamorous Manhattan lifestyle, as Hepburn's adoptee, only to be shunted back to the orphanage (and forgotten) as the plot warrants. Still, the Hepburn and Tracy chemistry is memorable in this, their first film together, and the scene in which Tracy is mistaken for a Gestapo agent is not to be missed.