Tracy knows from the start that Hepburn has a brilliant career, is a social whirlwind, and is an intellectual force. She apparently speaks every world language except Swahili, and has as much free time as the U.S. President, who is a confidante of her influential father, Reginald Owen. Hepburn also has a close platonic relationship with her possessive and sissy secretary, Gerald (Dan Tobin). She has nothing in common with Tracy's best friend, punchdrunk bartender William Bendix.
Despite the previous paragraph, Tracy courts and marries Hepburn, and expects her to downsize her glorious career and become his dutiful wife. Naturally, she instead relegates Tracy to an accessory, someone to present and show off at social and family engagements. Tracy will have none of this and leaves her.
Tracy will not change. But this is a comedy and not a drama. It must have a happy ending. Thus, Hepburn effectively promises to shelve her status as unofficial world power broker, and become cook and maid to the self-satisfied Tracy. This proves the irony of the title: the woman of the year can only have a successful marriage by becoming an ordinary housewife. His idea of compromise is to let her keep her newspaper column. Maybe.
How others will see it. The winning streak of director George Stevens continued (as it would until the biblical big budget bust The Greatest Story Ever Told), and Woman of the Year was both a commercial and critical success. Future Hollywood Ten member Ring Lardner Jr. won an Oscar for co-writing the screenplay, and Hepburn received one her many Best Actress nominations. She eventually collected an unequalled four of the brass trophies, including one for her final film with Tracy, the wildly overrated Guess Who's Coming to Dinner.
The imdb.com user ratings are high, especially for women and older age groups. So much for feminism.
How I felt about it. The ideal husband for Hepburn is there for the taking all along: her secretary, Gerald. With dedicated and efficient Gerald taking care of business, Hepburn can reach her full potential as a do-gooder, eventually winning the Nobel Peace Prize and making Eleanor Roosevelt look like Laura Bush.
Instead, she will become a short order cook for Tracy, sew buttons on his underwear, and cheer for the Yankees in the press box. It will be the world's loss, but Tracy's gain. And we know that Tracy, the cinematic paragon of passive righteousness, must have his way.