Mrs. Delafield wants to die. The TV movie opens on an ambulance rushing the society widow to the hospital after an unnamed relapse. Obscured by a breathing apparatus and various medical paraphernalia, Mrs. Delafield lies comatose as her children begin to mourn and divvy up her estate. Her neighbor waxes elegiac on the imminent elegancy of her death. Then, a handsome doctor puts a hand on her shoulder and--miracle of miracles! Mrs. Delafield opens her eyes! And then, out of nowhere, it becomes a marriage comedy.

After last week’s morbid misfire of a movie, the opening of Mrs. Delafield Wants to Marry feels a little like purposeful trolling. Grace Quigley extolled the virtues of death for the elderly with an ailing Hepburn at its center, but Mrs. Delafield Wants to Marry celebrates the life they still have yet to live. Our Own Kate as Mrs. Delafield makes her actual entrance 15 minutes after the morbid opening, and what a difference two years makes! Kate is bubbling and happy and in full health. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t breathe a tiny sigh of relief. She’s okay! Sure, she can’t carry wood anymore, like she did in On Golden Pond, but that doesn’t matter. She’s too busy carrying the movie.

Mrs. Delafield Wants to Marry is about life, or rather the difficulty of having a life when your children start to treat you like a child. Mrs. Delafield falls in love with Dr. Silas (Harold Gould), the doctor whose touch revived her in the prologue. Unfortunately, Dr. Silas is Jewish, and Mrs. Delafield is the kind of rich, blue-blooded WASP whose name ends up on symphony programs and university lecture halls. Her kids, in a shocking bit of anti-semitism for 1986, don’t want her marrying a Jew. His kids don’t want a goy stepmother. Both are called irresponsible when all they are is in love. What are a pair of star-crossed septuagenarians to do?

I have to admit that I have a gigantic soft spot for this kind of movie. My grandfather remarried after my grandmother died, and his decision was as much about honoring the partner he had lost as it was about building a happy future. Also, old people’s weddings are the best, because they are too old and wise to care what others think. At her wedding in an Episcopal/Jewish ceremony, Mrs. Delafield walks down the aisle to “When The Saints Go Marching In” wearing a sari just because she can. At my grandfather’s wedding in New Orleans, my new step-grandmother snuck me a glass of wine and told me stories about growing up a Southern debutante. Both weddings were pure celebrations of long lives well-lived and joined together. In a culture obsessed with youth, I take heart knowing that it doesn’t have to be one long, sad slide to the finish line.

If you’re ready to write this movie off as a bit of fluff, you’re right. I realized as I watched this film that I’m holding our own Kate to a different standard now. Maybe it’s the scare I got from watching Grace Quigley. Maybe it’s because, with only 5 movies left, I’ve grown sentimental. Maybe it’s because Katharine Hepburn is a record-breaking award winner and deserves a break. Whatever the case, I no longer require that these movies be Kate’s Best. I am perfectly content - as Kate seems to have been - to enjoy a living legend luxuriating on her laurels, delivering sass and sly meta references to her own incredible career. Mrs. Delafield learns a lesson that Kate seems to have known all along: live your life on your own terms, regardless of age.

Previous Week: Grace Quigley (1984) - In which Katharine Hepburn makes a comedy about suicide with Nick Nolte because she's a living legend and she can do whatever she wants.

Next Week: Laura Lansing Slept Here (1988) - In which Katharine Hepburn makes a truly awful houseguest.