Nervous, against the grain types were often Katharine Hepburn’s specialty. Unsurprisingly, the fluttery traits of the quirky spinsters she played have also found emotional root with the awkward titular characters in May, Let’s Scare Jessica to Death, Rosemary’s Baby and a host of other femme focused terror fests.

Chronic terror viewers also know that secrets and murderous deeds often beat at the heart of many a gothic vixen. These attributes are something at least one of Hepburn’s characters was very familiar with, as well.

Working alongside frequent collaborators like director George Cukor and actor Spencer Tracy, Hepburn brought the high toned Christine Forrest to life in 1942’s Keeper of the Flame. As the widow of a revered public servant, Forrest presents a shifty figure. Trying hard not to detonate the image of her revered politician husband, Forrest keeps to the shadows, praying to remain illusive as possible after his sudden death. But the attention of Tracy’s Steven O’ Malley, a skilled reporter, endangers this.

Once O’Malley discovers that the calm diplomat had turned into a megalomaniac racist with thoughts of world domination – sound familiar, anyone?!? – he also soon realizes that Christine might have cottoned to this radical switch over, as well. Even more importantly, one very storm swept night, she might have decided to do something very definitive about it. A washed-out bridge is always very convenient for an accidental death, right?!?

Although, filmed lushly and with a sense of overheated (occasionally damp…. see above) drama by Cukor, the production of this all-star vehicle was apparently very troubled. The script was constantly rewritten – with Hepburn, who was devoted to Tracy, even demanding that the traits of her character be strengthened while his be weakened, as was apparently true to the source material the screenplay was based on. Executives and reviewers alike were also dismayed at the bad light the story brought to American officials and their often-questionable policies. 

The fact that her character partook in a form of vigilantism also, seemingly due to the ever-present Hayes Code, found Hepburn’s counterpart in hot fire in the project’s final moments. This jarring sense of patriarchal morality, thankfully, is something we no longer have to forcibly experience as our celluloid femme fatales can often sin without death reaching out its hands for their proudly upright necks. 

But, on second thought, (check Rosemary) is a devil baby clamping on their nips really all that much better?!?

Until the next time, SWEET love and pink GRUE, Big Gay Horror Fan!

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