41. Barbra Streisand in 'Funny Girl' & Katharine Hepburn in 'The Lion in Winter' (1968)

  

Plot intro...s...

The Lion in Winter

England, 1183. Ageing, cantankerous King Henry II (Peter O’Toole) is concerned about which of his three surviving sons, Richard (Anthony Hopkins), Geoffrey (John Castle) or John (Nigel Terry) will succeed him. When his estranged, scheming wife Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katharine Hepburn) arrives for Christmas celebrations, the court machinations really start to escalate.

Funny Girl

New York, early 20th century. Young, clumsy, sharp-talking Fanny Bryce (Barbra Streisand) wants to become a star of the stage. Insecure about her looks and ability, she often turns to comedy as a crutch. Stage impresario Florenz Ziegfeld (Walter Pidgeon) notices her ability and the film charts her rise to fame as well as her tumultuous marriage to gorgeous gambler Nicky Arnstein (Omar Sharif).

Paul says...

A winning tie at the Oscars is a rare and notable thing- it has (so far) only happened six times in its near-100 year history. This is the only time it happened in the Best Actress category, and the second and most recent time in any acting category (there was a tie for Best Actor in the '30s). The most recent was 10 years ago in the Best Sound Editing category between Zero Dark Thirty and Skyfall.

This tie could not have happened to a more dynamic and disparate duo. Hepburn had nearly 40 years of experience under her belt, two Best Actress Oscars (one from the previous year) and a lion-taming personality that kept the men in check (she would repeatedly call out Peter O’Toole and Anthony Hopkins’ late arrivals after a night of drinking during the making of The Lion in Winter). Streisand, meanwhile, was a Hollywood ingenue. Just 26 years old (Hepburn was 61 at this point), she had made a name for herself in music and Broadway, originating the role of Fanny Bryce. But Funny Girl catapulted her to international stardom and now she is recognised, revered, idolised and imitated on the same level as Madonna, Cher, Liza and Dolly. It’s a very satisfying tie between two immensely iconic names.

But, of course, many people (including myself) can’t shake off the age-old question- who should have won? On one level, it’s irrelevant- they both won, they both deserved it, there doesn’t have to be just one winner, deal with it. On another level, it’s fun to analyse. Morally speaking, it should have been Streisand. As previously mentioned, Hepburn already had two Best Actress Oscars and was due to win another in the early '80s. Statistically speaking, however, it should have been Hepburn. Only members of the Academy can vote and membership is achieved through contributions to the movie industry. Funny Girl was only Streisand’s first movie therefore, at first, she didn’t have membership and couldn’t vote for herself. This would have meant that Hepburn would have won by one vote. But Academy president Gregory Peck rather cheekily fast tracked Streisand’s membership and she was able to vote, effectively causing the tie. 

But what do I think? (This question is, of course, why you’re reading this blog, surely). For me, Funny Girl is the superior of the two films. The Lion in Winter is great entertainment, it’s a campy, humour-driven depiction of 12th century England, displaying the dangers and intensity of court intrigue but at the same time mocking how farcical the whole process is. It is far more fun than more ponderous '60s period dramas such as A Man For All Seasons, Becket and Anne of the Thousand Days. It is laden with snarks, put-downs, deliberately convoluted plottings and melodrama. I especially enjoyed the way it depicted life in 12th century castles. Courtiers and servants all jostling, arguing and sleeping on top of each other. Dogs wander and defecate freely and everyone is surrounded by the drafts and darkness of these unhomely Norman castles. 

However, it’s over-long by about 45 minutes and its energy becomes exhausting. About half an hour in you quickly realise that the complicated machinations of the King and Queen, their sons and the King of France are so changeable, with every character being so disingenuous, that you’re not really supposed to know what’s going on- because even the characters don’t. Exactly which son is on whose side, who is lying to whom and why, all of this becomes irrelevant and you’re meant to enjoy the farcical chaos of the film. But without an involving plot, it all becomes cold, uninvolving and a bit pointless.

It also suffers (or benefits, depending on how you look at it) from the fact that Hepburn out-acts everyone. Yes, even celebrated actors Peter O’Toole, Anthony Hopkins and Timothy Dalton. She runs rings around them. The film is fine when she is off screen, but it comes to life when she is on it. Whether she is insulting the King, breaking down over her traumatic life, or craftily manipulating, well, anyone, Hepburn epitomises one of the most formidable and powerful women in history.

Funny Girl, meanwhile, is a flawless gem for me. As a musical it’s fine. It gave birth to the song Don’t Rain On My Parade but other than that the music is not especially well known or enduring. But Streisand gives one of the funniest, most charming, most poignant performances I’ve ever seen. Every one-liner hits a bullseye, every act of physical comedy shows incredible talent and expertise (scenes such as Fanny’s ruination of a rollerskating musical number and her own rendition of the ballet Swan Lake left us both howling). And above all, Streisand depicts a woman going through a very powerful growth. 

We first meet Fanny, all grown up, when she delivers the infamous line to her reflection “Hello, gorgeous”, which is far more wistful and delicate than when people imitate it (Streisand said it to her Oscar statuette when she received it). Then we flashback to her youth. She’s sharp-witted but blunderous, impulsive and erratic (and hilarious). As heartbreak and maturity sets in, Streisand seamlessly adds in more dignity and tragedy to the performance. Later, when Fanny is fending off reporters who are trying to get the goods on her husband’s arrest, her one-liners are no longer coming from a place of joy and rebellion but from desperation and exhaustion.

So if I were a voting member of the Academy, it pains me to say it, but I’d probably have voted for Streisand. Not that I want to let down my girl Katharine but I think Streisand gives a performance that is truly unique and demonstrates a wide range of talents (acting, singing, dancing, comedy). If we ever do a top ten blog post, I have a feeling Streisand will be in there.

Highlight 

Lion in Winter: There is no particular scene or moment here, I just want to highlight Hepburn’s performance. It’s one of the best of her career (and, considering her career, that’s saying something) and it keeps the film ticking along.

Funny Girl: There are so many scenes and moments to choose from. The Swan Lake scene and Streisand’s beautiful rendition of 'People' get special mentions. But for me, it’s a later scene in which Fanny’s gambling and financially-stretched husband Nicky is given a business proposition. As the friend describes the proposition, the camera stays on Nicky’s reaction, with Fanny covertly in the background reading a magazine. It slowly becomes apparent to Nicky that this proposal is too good to be true and that Fanny herself has orchestrated it. Streisand’s stillness becomes increasingly conspicuous and Nicky’s emasculated anger fills the room. It’s a small but brilliant scene.

Lowlight

Lion in Winter: The length of the film is my biggest gripe. Either they needed a less frantic plot or slice off 45 minutes or so.

Funny Girl: Honestly, the film is wonderful and I have nothing to criticise it.

Mark

The Lion in Winter: 6/10

Funny Girl: 10/10

Doug says...

It’s the age-old question: Katharine or Barbra? You can hear the pitchforks of the adulating gays being sharpened ready for battle from here.

These are two very different films – one is an overlong but refreshingly gritty historical drama. The other is a bells-and-whistles musical with some amazing standards of modern musical theatre ('Don’t Rain on My Parade'; 'People'; 'My Man'; 'Funny Girl') throughout.

I’m delighted to say that Hepburn and Streisand are both phenomenal in their respective roles, and both fully deserving of this shared trophy. I don’t think I can pick a favourite of the two.

Streisand shines as Fanny Bryce in a performance that meticulously recreates the physicality and voice of the legendary comedienne Fanny Bryce. If you want to see the real Bryce, take a gander the early Best Picture winner The Great Ziegfeld where she stars as herself, bowls into a dressing room scene, wipes the floor comedically with everyone else on screen and then sings a very sad song with remarkable pathos.

Streisand has done her homework. The jerky gait, the sharp as a whistle comebacks – they all ring true in Barbra’s capable hands. She then pairs this character study with a real ability to show what Fanny is feeling, underneath the layers of performative comedy. When Bryce hurts, we see it beneath the rictus grin or playful demeanour. Streisand is also very, very funny. One scene where she’s allowed to watch her lover play poker, on the proviso she doesn’t react – we see her fully reacting with sheer nerves and terror, only to switch into a dead-eyed zombie as soon as her lover turns to look at her. It’s comedy perfection, with every single comedy beat achieved beautifully.

All this isn’t even touching on Streisand’s voice which is one of the greatest in 20th century theatre and film. She delicately sings, she belts, she allows emotion to pour through while astounding with her vocal gymnastics. One always feels that she’s taken this career extremely seriously. Not for Streisand’s vocal chords the casual damage of age – even in her 70s and 80s, her ‘instrument’ is an extraordinary beast (just look at her 2016 Netflix special).

So surely it should have been a clean win for Streisand in a virtuoso performance at the centre of a finely balanced and perfectly delivered movie musical? Not so, for here, with a bang and a crash, comes Hepburn with quite a different proposition: an exceptional performance in a very flawed film.

The Lion in Winter is soapy, melodramatic, about an hour too long and doesn’t really know what it wants to say. King Henry II is off shagging the young woman he also wants his son to marry (??), meanwhile his three sons all struggle for power. There’s a full positioning of Richard the Lionheart as gay, a cast including Anthony Hopkins, Peter O’Toole and Timothy Dalton and a lot of people charging around holding flaming torches or brooding on battlements. I do not consider it a particularly good film.

However it is watchable, for one very simple reason: Katharine Hepburn, in one of the best performances I’ve seen from her. Do you love Diana Rigg as Olenna Tyrell in Game of Thrones? Of course you do. Well, here’s her predecessor.

Hepburn’s Eleanor of Acquitaine is ferocious. She is determined that her favourite son will be king. She wants to be free of the imprisonment her husband keeps her in. She also wants – above all else – to make him hurt. Eleanor in this play veers between jovially making all those around her terrified, and showing her vengeful teeth in full howl, and god does Hepburn lean in. She’s jealous, angry, upset, scared and powerful.

Hepburn manages the whole thing with ease – from the triumphant beginning to the triumphant end. Her husband and sons may be bruised and aching but she sails back to prison laughing. It’s exceptional – to manage the flood of feelings and the way she manipulates everyone around her and make it all seem feasible and gripping.

I think we’re all aware Katharine Hepburn is one of the greats – particularly this late point in her career where it feels like she did a Meryl Streep (post Devil Wears Prada) and re-entered the cinematic arena more able to showcase her own individual skills. This film cements her as one of the most amazing talents working in this era – and she does all that without changing her accent a jot. An American Eleanor of Acquitaine? Sure!

Highlight

Funny Girl: Barbra’s ability to capture Fanny Bryce is just wonderful – particularly her performance of the standards Bryce herself used to sing. It’s a gorgeous tribute from a-then upcoming legend to a historical one.

The Lion in Winter: There’s so many lines that Hepburn elevates through her performance, but this exchange stuck out, beautifully delivered with so much rage, fear and pain:

Henry II: Is it rich, despising me? Is it rewarding?

Eleanor: No – it’s terrible.

Henry II: Then stop it!

Eleanor: How? It’s what I live for!

Lowlight

Funny Girl: I do miss the comedy in the second half when it becomes more of a romantic drama.

The Lion in Winter: The film itself isn’t very good. It’s a shame as when Hepburn isn’t on, the quality and engagement drops hugely. 

Mark

Funny Girl: 10/10

The Lion in Winter: 5/10 

40. Katharine Hepburn in 'Guess Who's Coming To Dinner' (1967)

 

Plot intro

In San Francisco, young vibrant Joanna Drayton (Katharine Houghton) returns home with her new boyfriend, Dr John Prentice (Sidney Poitier) to introduce him to her parents Matt and Christina (Spencer Tracy & Katharine Hepburn) and tell them of their plans to marry. But, being the 1960s, Matt and Christina are completely thrown by the fact that John is black. Couple that with the fact that John’s parents are coming to visit for dinner and are equally perturbed by Joanna being white, and you’ve got a cocktail for some soul searching and pontificating on interracial relations during the height of the Civil Rights Movement.

Doug says...

After the gruelling games of George and Martha the year before, this film dealing with racism in the liberal upper classes feels like a light comedy of manners. But that’s partly because it is. 

Matt (Tracy) and Chris (Hepburn) have fallen into that old trap of being liberal as young people, feeling smug, sitting in their self-appointed liberal thrones and then not addressing the prejudices that they actually have. It’s essentially what’s going on now with the TERFs attacking trans-people: they are often fully fledged feminists from the ‘70s and ‘80s who refuse to see how their own battlegrounds have changed, and end up attacking vulnerable people. 

But - the film seems to say - it doesn’t have to be like this. Chris is won over quite quickly, but Matt hunkers down despite a whole host of people - his daughter, wife and his cheerful priest friend - telling him he shouldn’t, until it seems inevitable that he should say he doesn’t approve, and in doing so, destroy his daughter’s life. (And TERFs: it doesn’t have to be like this, just look at Gloria Steinem and Jane Fonda who are in their mid-to-late 80s and still joyfully learning). 

There are flaws. Dr Prentice is far too perfect (although I understand why they made him this way). The words used are dated - although this isn’t a flaw, just jarring when you watch it now. Joanna is entirely without agency (apparently a crucial scene where she has a speech about politics got cut to Houghton’s dismay). But none of this stops the core message still working - which is a call to arms to all those ‘liberals’ who don’t stop and self-examine to understand their own prejudices, which is the first step to diminishing and removing them. 

Hepburn is magnificent. It’s the second year in a row where the Best Actress Award is entirely deserved, she finds lightness and comedy in the film where appropriate, the bathroom scene where her husband shaves is deeply moving (Paul says more on this), and there’s a feeling that Hepburn (who knew her long-time lover Tracy was dying while making this) is taking in every precious moment of making this film. I particularly like the scene where she tells her horrid co-worker to go stuff it: ‘It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you - although I don’t’, but her work throughout this picture is impeccable. 

I do want to shout out to the actress who I think deserved to win Best Supporting Actress (although she was nominated): Beah Richards, who plays Poitier’s mother. It’s a small role, but Richards dazzles in it. Polite and unassuming, she sits modestly dressed in the taxi and then the house but she - and she alone - is the reason that Matt eventually realises he must accept and approve of the marriage. In a stunning speech, she laments that he and her husband have forgotten what it was to be young and in love - and says she and Chris have never forgotten. ‘What happens to men when they grow old?’ It’s a small speech but every hair stood on end with the feeling, regret and sad anger that Richards pours into it. I can only compare it to the telephone call that Octavia Spencer makes in The Shape of Water that nabbed her a nomination too - and it’s evidence again that a true star doesn’t need heaps of screentime to shine. Richards was a well-respected actor, Oscar and Tony nominated who won two Emmys in 1988 and 2000 (the year she died). She was politically involved and a writer and poet whose work included A Black Woman Speaks: poetry pointing out how white women had oppressed women of colour. 

Overall, the film has dated but the core points it makes are still relevant to our society. Critiques of the film pointed out that it’s for white audiences - but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. White audiences are the ones who need to be encouraged to examine their own prejudices, and this film gets that across while still being relatively light, enjoyable and fun.  

Highlight

It’s a tie between Beah Richards stealing every moment she’s on screen and Alexandra Hay as the very funny Gen-Z-like waitress at the ice-cream drive in. 

Lowlight

Some scenes feel dated and on the nose - writer William Rose really didn’t feel the need for nuance or subtlety…

Mark

8/10

Paul says...

GWCtD was one of my first exposures to Katharine Hepburn’s body of work and probably one of the primary reasons why she is my favourite actress from Old Hollywood. It is one of her most grounded and dignified performances (she often played much bigger, larger-than-life characters such as in Bringing Up Baby or The African Queen), and came after a long string flops and sporadic successes. This was her second of four Best Actress wins (currently more than any other acting winner) and the first of two consecutive wins, so I would suggest that the mid-1960s was a transitional time for Hepburn as she moved from spirited ingenue in the '30s through to the stalwart, enduring, experienced titan of Hollywood that she later became. The scene in the bathroom in which she tearfully and shakingly tells her husband that she will not support him if he doesn’t bless his daughter impending nuptials is a prime example of how, by this point, she had completely honed her craft.

This was also her ninth and final collaboration with long-time friend, colleague and rumoured lover, Spencer Tracy, who was also a titan of Old Hollywood, an immensely versatile performer, a winner of two consecutive Best Actor Oscars in the '30s and a nine-time nominee. This was his final role, as he died just 17 days after filming finished. Hepburn, apparently, could never bring herself to watch the film.

Great acting aside, it was also refreshing to see that, although the film has aged in terms of some of the terminology used to describe people of colour and its slightly patronising, didactic tone, it hasn’t fallen into the same traps as other films on racism written by white people (cross reference one of the worst Best Picture wins, Crash). Dr John Prentice is deliberately a Mary-Sue character- he is immensely perfect. Intelligent, hard-working, wealthy, noble, funny, gorgeous, the list goes on. I’m not surprised that Joanna intends to marry him asap before someone else ensnares him. It would have been so tempting for white writers of lesser quality to give John a criminal past, a dysfunctional family background, a hot temper when confronted by a police officer, all those sorts of things writers just love to give black characters (again, looking at you, Crash!). Joanna, also, is a Mary Sue. Clever, sharp, kind, and pragmatic, she approaches their parents’ racist misgivings towards her marriage to John with almost deluded naivety, repeatedly pointing out that there won’t be a problem because, of course, why would there be? 

It feels impossible for both of them to be so perfect, but it’s actually very important to the story because it exposes just how ludicrous and groundless their parents’ objections are. Why shouldn’t such happy, stable people find love? Their parents have both taught them that, just like the teachings of Dr King and Malcolm X, all races are equal and deserving of rights and integration, so why should their parents object? These questions push Joanna’s parents immediately into a corner and it’s delightful watching them squirm. They have been able to lecture on racial equality from their art-filled ivory tower up in the hills of San Francisco with their glorious view of the bridge, but when faced with real integration in their own life, they are uncomfortable. In fact, Matt’s first act is to ring up a contact to check up on John’s past- would he have done this if John was white? But they cannot express their misgivings because it will expose them as racist hypocrites to their adoring daughter- they have absolutely no good reason to object other than John’s race. The younger generation are written as so perfect and inclusive that the film emphasises that the onus is entirely on the older generation, no matter how liberal they think they are, to change their attitudes. 

This is further emphasised by the Draytons’ older black maid, Tillie. You’d expect her to be delighted by an interracial marriage, representing the changes brewing at the time. In actual fact, she’s furious that she has to now cook and clean for one of her own race, claiming that John has ideas above his station. But she’s perfectly fine with her young, glamorous black colleague Dorothy flirting with the white delivery boy. The film works hard to expose the underlying hypocrisy of racism amongst the older generation of various races and classes.

A great deal of the film also hangs on the fact that John secretly informs Joanna’s parents that he will not marry her if either of them object. While Christina changes her mind very quickly and embraces John, Matt is the one who takes longer and therefore gets the big speech at the end. This process is mirrored through John’s parents, where his mother Mary (the outstanding Beah Richards) rapidly adjusts and points out to Spencer Tracy, in one of the most moving speeches ever delivered, that he has grown old and forgotten what love feels like. Meanwhile, John’s father is angrier and more hesitant to accept, much like Matt. I had memories of Matt’s final big speech being the most outdated aspect of the film, with Matt having the nerve to lecture everyone, including the black characters, on racial integration. Actually, my memories were pretty false and he does not do this. Instead, he rightfully points out that even if he had objected to the marriage, this would never have stopped John and especially Joanna because love conquers all, and therefore gives his blessing fully realising that it is arbitrary. 

There are similarities with our previous film, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, in that GWCtD has a small selection of characters interacting in a limited space for a small period of time. But GWCtD is sweeter, gentler, and soppier. I mentioned that it has a patronising, didactic tone which can sometimes be off-putting (“Racism is X, Y and Z and this is bad”) but this does help for modern audiences to fully understand the reasons behind characters’ objections to John and Joanna’s relationship which, to our eyes, would seem incredulous. It’s not the most subtle or nuanced work, but it’s wonderfully acted, heart-warming and still has a strong point to make.

Highlight

Katharine Hepburn getting rid of her sour, gossipy colleague, Hilary (urgh, fuckin Hilary) who has come to their house on some lame excuse to gawp. Hilary quickly shows her true colours by asking Christina how she is going to prevent John and Joanna’s relationship from happening. Christina, unashamedly, sacks her and sends her packing with absolutely magnificent savagery. “Don’t say anything, Hilary, just go”.

Lowlight

The writers make some mention of Dr John’s past, in which his first wife and son died in some kind of accident, the details of which are sketchy. I think this was thrown in to give John even more sympathy but it feels arbitrary and unexplored. Unless they were going to fully dissect John’s character as a result of this horrible tragedy, they probably should have deleted that and let John’s perfect personality speak for itself.

Mark

8/10