Funny, to be blue and feeling alone with a TV and raw wet dark weather and a dying Christmas tree
soon for the curb, and clicking the remote to discover, to run across, the
one movie to make you cry and rid you of the blues, the perfectly written,
perfectly acted, perfectly Cukor movie, The Philadelphia Story, with ageless intense
pent-up feelings, smart surprising raised eyebrows, small moments of whim and wisdom and grand moments of farce and sentimentality, and
with beautiful movie stars, Cary Grant at his most heroically clever, Katherine Hepburn
glowing and strong and fragile and wise, and Jimmy Stewart with his great big heart and
dark flashing eyes. For an hour afterwards, I’m soft and weak and as well as ever I can
feel, with or without the lonely romance of two martinis.
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