Morning Glory, I don’t know why; I thought it was the movie where Katherine Hepburn talked about calla lilies, so I kept waiting for her to say it. I can see why she won an Academy Award; the movie is lovely and she is so lovely in it. I like her much better in this film when she is dreaming of being an actress (most of the movie) — when she says things like ‘my name is partly made up and partly real’; and ‘I think artists should be free to sin.” Her idealism is delicious, her fantasy of being an actress is much more interesting than any realisation of it could ever be. And you get to see Hepburn do ‘to be or not to be’ — wow. I’ve never been quite so convinced that Hepburn was a lesbian, for although she swans about prettily at times: an actress, acting being an actress — who wishes she was an actress (the layers are Shakespearean) what is ultimately appealing about her is her androgyny. She’s every woman I’ve ever loved who was part boy. It’s a shame that Zoe Akins diverting script is so anti-feminist —Hepburn could not have approved of it. I saw her late in life in Coco — the musical written for her -- at the O’Keefe Centre in Toronto. My mother bought me a ticket, which shows she understood be a little too deeply, and though I still laugh a bit at the soundtrack (esp: the question she asks her father about her communion dress “Could it be red?”). the fact that she sounds a bit like a goose being strangled when she sings doesn’t matter — Hepburn embodies all she does best: fierce, angry, moral courage. (She was doing Liz Cheney before Cheney was born.) At the end of Coco — Chanel reveals in being alone, declaring that she is proud to have been an ‘old maid.’ This was equivocation for Hepburn who really wanted to say ‘I’m proud to be a lesbian.’ But I would never demand that of her, I understand why she was muted and had to pretend she was having a love affair with Spencer Tracy — who, if we are to believe Scotty Bowers was as gay as I am (when drunk). Hepburn holds a special place in my heart because my father once met her while selling insurance, and we have the same kind of upbringing (New England Yankee) and Adam’s Rib got me through my teenage anxiety attacks. The relationship Hepburn had with Tracy — both onscreen and off — is very much like the relationship I have with my lover — embattled, only occasionally sexual, not just for fans, and beyond compare. Morning Glory was entertainment in 1933 and is quite enchanting due to the belief which Hepburn showers on her character. But it is necessarily ‘light’ and must present the sentimental yet trite story of a woman who ‘gives up love for her career.’ But Morning Glory is ten steps above what passes for entertainment these days — i.e. the news. I can’t imagine why anyone is subscribing to Netflix when CNN is so bloodthirsty. And if CBC isn’t speaking to dying people in hospitals, it is focusing on sex scandals in the military. This is a calculated change in the delivery of the news — CNN decided a year or two ago that it must focus on celebrities and trials and neglect actual information, so when COVID-10 came along it was a rare opportunity to plunge into the entertainment imbroglio. What we are offered has no relationship to reality, because personal anecdotes — though deeply absorbing — are authentic but not accurate. Endless interviews with hapless victims of a raging epidemic — though utterly ‘uplifting’-- do nothing to raise our awareness about what might and should be done about anything. I started watching the news as entertainment when Donald Trump came along — I think a lot of us did — and it’s hard to wean myself off. When rocket fire is going off in Tel Aviv, when our economy is on the verge of COVID collapse, when people are living in tents in your local park — when your kids are courting mental illness and you're hating your spouse because you just can’t stay inside any longer, but you must —when you are tempted to become a drug addict, and then you actually become one — well you don’t want to see any of that on television. Seeing an overweight nurse who has contracted COVID-19 whine about how tired she is and how difficult it has been sacrificing her life for us is worth ten films versions of Camille. Here is what came up on my news feed today: ‘Essential Reads for Self-improvement,’ ‘How laughter can improve your relationship’ and ‘This couple tried Hellofresh: Here’s How Much Better Life Got.’ A quick gander at this garbage is sure to drive you to the Oxycontin. I’m not sure on what planet I would ever want to read a book in order to improve myself’ — my understanding is that the purpose of literature is to frighten, shock, and upset you (I know I am alone in this these days) or perhaps plunge you into the ‘depths of degradation’ (like the pool table in The Music Man). We are all likely to reach the ‘depths of degradation’ at some point in our lives anyway, even if it is only the requisite illness and death. I'm sorry if this wrecks the rosy picture that your newsfeed has created for you, since we all know know now that if each of us gets the COVID-19 vaccine (but watch out — don't get Astra-Zeneca!) our lives will be solved. Here are more news feeds to facilitate your move from pot to meth: ‘Whatever happened to waterbeds?’ ‘Science proves a harsh truth about very good dogs’ and ‘What cats love of boxes and squares can tell us about their visual perception.’ I do love ‘news’ items that operate under the veil of ‘science ‘— which is ever so popular right now, don't you know? I love them almost as much as news items which operate under the veil of political correctness: ‘The Lesser-Known History of African-American Cowboys.’ I rode past a tattoo shop in Hamilton yesterday on the bus, it was called Evil Sin; it was, of course, closed. Hepburn’s name in Morning Glory is Eva Lovelace; people keep mistaking it for ‘loveless.’ We are without love now, but we do have the internet, and drugs, and porn, and most of all -- people dying on the news. We should be very happy.
