(On TV, April 2020) There’s some serious star power at the top of the bill for dustbowl romantic comedy The Rainmaker: Katharine Hepburn plays a spinster pining for marriage, and her wishes for a suitable man are answered by none other than Burt Lancaster. He plays his always-travelling conman character (promising rain for a modest price) like a rough draft for the one he’d play three years later in Elmer Gantry. Meanwhile, well, Hepburn is as good as ever, yet about a decade too old to play a coquettish maid, and—being Hepburn—can’t help but being Hepburn even when it doesn’t make sense for the character. (The problems start with casting Hepburn as “plain”—look, Hollywood, even multiple-Oscar-winning Hepburn couldn’t play “plain.”) While the core of The Rainmaker is fine (a woman rediscovering herself thanks to a flamboyant stranger—I’m not saying “manic pixie dream dude” but I’m thinking it), the rest of it loses itself in not-always-interesting tangents and asides. This is probably an artifact of the film’s theatrical origins, just as is the over-the-top acting exhibited in the film. Now, I do like the result—manic Lancaster is the best Lancaster—but the film may be a hard sell for those not used to that kind of performance. Still, The Rainmaker is an interesting film for all sorts of reasons, maybe half of them not necessarily intended by the filmmakers.
(On TV, September 2021) With the right script, there’s something fascinating in seeing well-known actors facing against each other. Katharine Hepburn and Burt Lancaster were two epochal actors, but The Rainmaker is the only film in which you’ll see them go head-to-head in roles hewing closely to their screen personas. She plays the clever spinster, pining for the right man but not too much. He plays a charismatic conman, with a business model of selling fancy decorations as devices fit to make it rain… and then moseying on to the next town. As the film begins, his hurried escape from a town suddenly opposed to his flim-flammery leads him right to Hepburn’s house. A short antagonistic romance begins, heightened by the difference on both actors’ acting styles. Unsubtly enough, rain ends up being a thematic stand-in for all sorts of things here – but never mind the symbolism, because we’re here for the stars. For Hepburn, the film is solidly in line with her progression from a spinster to a matriarch. For Lancaster, it’s one in a lengthy list of roles for which he used his leading-man good looks as a front for a deceitful character. This is a film where a second viewing can be more interesting than the first: it’s the push-and-pull of the romance that’s more interesting here than its resolution, especially if you think the characters are too mismatched for more than a brief but torrid affair. The Depression-era setting offers an interesting development of the western stories that would have been set in the same geographical area a few decades earlier. Nonetheless, I would recommend The Rainmaker for existing Hepburn/Lancaster fans – you get a lot more out of it as a clash of actors than as a standalone story.