Tracy Samantha Lord.
She's regal, self-disciplined and intolerant.
She was glad to be rid of her addict.
She moved on with her life and became engaged to a self-made man. They're on the brink of a wedding when her x-husband shows up.
While away from her, he's gotten into recovery. He isn't drinking anymore.
While away from her, she didn't get into recovery because she didn't have a problem.
HE had a problem.
Throughout the movie, she's wittingly accosted on just about every side. She's forced to look into a mirror of sorts.
She's called all sorts of names she doesn't like.
Her father tells her she lacks an understanding heart -that without it, she might as well be made of bronze.
Her x-husband, C.K. Dexter Haven, calls her a "goddess" -and he isn't being complimentary.
Read these lines, please:
Tracy: You seem quite contemptuous of me all of a sudden.
Dexter: No, Red, not of you, never of you. Red, you could be the finest woman on this earth. I'm contemptuous of something inside of you you either can't help, or make no attempt to; your so-called 'strength' - your prejudice against weakness - your blank intolerance.
Tracy: Is that all?
Dexter: That's the gist of it; because you'll never be a first-class human being or a first-class woman, until you've learned to have some regard for human frailty. It's a pity your own foot can't slip a little sometime - but your sense of inner divinity wouldn't allow that. This goddess must and shall remain intact. There are more of you than people realize - a special class of the American Female.
And then there's George -her fiance. He "compliments" her in a way that smacks her right in the face and she realizes just what she's become -just the kind of image she's putting off. It's horrifying.
I've trained him to believe that.
I spit the word "saint" out as if it were the crudest word ever invented on the face of the modern earth. I hate what I've made out of that word.
And I love Dexter's reply, "Be whatever you like. You're my redhead."
And for the record: my husband has never been jealous of my unbridled love for Cary Grant, and he's bought me a collection of Grant's movies to prove it. You should come over so we can watch them sometime.
We'll start with The Philadelphia Story.