Gone With the Wind, 1939, directed by Victor Fleming (with uncredited assistance from George Cukor and Sam Wood)
Story: In an age of “cotton and cavaliers,” spoiled Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh) is the belle of the plantation barbecue. But then war – the Civil War – comes to her chivalric South, and her way of life is swept away, or gone with the wind, as author Margaret Mitchell put it in her bestselling novel. Soon this young beauty (who was once fanned by slaves during afternoon naps) is vowing to the angry sky, “As God as my witness, I’ll never be hungry again!” Even as she pursues the married and genteel Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard), and is alternately seduced and bedeviled by the charming anti-gentleman Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), Scarlett does her best to keep good to this promise.
Gone With the Wind is the absolute pinnacle of Hollywood’s golden age, and while it’s said that pinnacles are often aberrations – a pleasingly counterintuitive notion – Gone With the Wind is truthfully more of an epitome than a departure. Thirties films had a surprising (by today’s standards) number of heroines, and many of these female protagonists were quite strong-willed and independent. Few, however, took matters as far as Scarlett O’Hara and the film seldom lets us forget it – resulting in a rare and fascinating (if sometimes exhausting) love-hate relationship with our main character.
And is she ever the main character! Early in the film there’s a scene in which haughty Southern men, enclosed in a drawing room, argue politics and challenge one another to duels. However, we only see this because the film prefaces it with Scarlett sneaking down a stairway and spying on their actions (naturally, she couldn’t care a whit about the debates, but only wants to see her beloved Ashley in action). Not much in the movie happens without Scarlett being present to observe or get involved – she’s never let out of our sight and that which escapes her, usually escapes us too. This subjectivity keeps the film, an otherwise sprawling epic, in focus – as in one memorable scene, in which the men go out to ransack a shanty town, and we’re left at home with a sewing circle simply because Scarlett doesn’t know what they’re doing (though this could be seen as anti-dramatic, it is in fact far more exciting and suspenseful than it would have been to witness the raid).
As with any long-term (the film lasts four hours) relationship this close, we alternately want to kiss Scarlett and wring her neck. Appropriately, this is exactly what Rhett Butler – by this point, Scarlett’s husband – does one night, driven by jealousy and liquor to threaten strangulation, only to change his mind and carry her upstairs to their long-forsaken marriage bed. Such violent passion marks the relationship of Scarlett and Rhett, two individuals as selfish as they are charming – in other words, ideal onscreen vessels for our fantasies and fascinations. We rarely go to the movies for ethical demonstrations or moral lessons; knowing this, Gone With the Wind gives us what we want, and keeps the lukewarm Ashley Wilkes, ostensible object of Scarlett’s desires, on the sidelines.
The screening of this film was held Wednesday, July 1 at the Music Hall (to an absolutely packed house; one would like to credit this author’s promotion of the event earlier this week, but a careful analysis of the page view to audience size ratio would not seem to bear out this conclusion, sadly). In an apparent coincidence, this day was Olivia De Havilland’s 93rd birthday (happy birthday, Olivia). De Havilland, a star at the time but billed after superstar Gable and fiery newcomer Leigh, plays Melanie Wilkes, Ashley’s warm-hearted wife. Throughout the picture, we are told repeatedly how good she is – even Scarlett, grasping for Melanie’s husband, feels pangs of guilt – and indeed de Havilland invests the part with a warm, guileless humanity, so any sympathy we can manage for the character is due to her efforts.
That said, de Havilland and Melanie are not done any favors by the screenplay or the director(s) – she’s written as too sticky-sweet and is always photographed to look wan and frumpy next to the dazzling Scarlett – so it’s a relief when we return to our guilty pleasures, the exasperating and exuberant Rhett and Scarlett. They’re at their best counterposed to the naive heroics and stoic responsibilities of the Civil War South in the film’s first half; the second half, which dwells mostly on their relationship in the initially hardscrabble and eventually gaudy Reconstruction era, is choppier and more erratic in its storytelling, losing some of the forward momentum provided by history. Still, their fierce attraction and antipathy are by necessity at the film’s centre, and when Rhett finally sobers up, takes a long hard look at the pleading Scarlett, and deadpans “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” before walking off into the soundstage fog, the movie must be over, and, within a few minutes, it is.
If Gone With the Wind is surprisingly and refreshingly unsentimental, it is nonetheless deeply romantic. Mainly, what it romanticizes is the nostalgically rendered Old South, displayed in all its breathtaking and beautiful glory in the film’s early passages. An opening crawl – the most famous this side of Star Wars – sets the tone, with its stirring and evocative yearning for long-gone glory days: “Here was the last ever to be seen of Knights and their Ladies fair, of Master and Slave…”
Oops.
Indeed, one would expect Gone With the Wind‘s racial politics to be hard to take today, but in fact what’s most disturbing is how easily they go down. Compare The Birth of a Nation, that notoriously racist masterpiece of D.W. Griffith, a silent film which celebrated the Ku Klux Klan and was the Gone With the Wind of its day, in terms of popularity. That film goes so far in its bigotry that it remains quite disturbing, but Gone With the Wind knows not to go too far, and in this sense it is the more dangerous of the two films. There was much laughter – uncomfortable laughter, but laughter nonetheless – in the theater at the antics of the “silly Negroes.” Gone With the Wind could certainly be accused of delivering white supremacy with a spoonful of sugar.
Yet at the same time, there’s another side to the audience’s laughter. Whereas in Birth, the African-American characters are mostly played by scowling and inhuman-looking white actors in blackface, Gone With the Wind casts talented black performers in the parts of the stereotypical slaves, and they invest their roles with gusto and humanity. Prissy (Butterfly McQueen) is an absolutely rancid portrayal of the black woman as screaming, stupid ninny, yet McQueen is funny enough in the part to grant it a partial redemption. The conviction with which she inhabits the character takes Prissy, on occasion, outside the realm of racist stereotype and into a recognizably human type: the dreamy girl shouldering responsibilities beyond her means, a familiar and likeably exasperating figure. By individualizing the role, she also universalizes it and is able to remove some, though not all, of the stigma.
Better still is Hattie McDaniel, who won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress of 1939 and is famed for saying, “I’d rather play a maid than be a maid.” Written as a rank cliche – the grumpily sensible, no-shit but knows-her-place “Mammy” – the part nonetheless has some very good lines, which McDaniel makes the most of. However, it’s her expressions we’ll remember: the silent shock as Scarlett woos a second husband for his money, the grimace of a forced smile worn while gently informing Scarlett of her mother’s death, and especially the twinkle in her eye as she lifts up her dress to show Rhett her petticoat. Notice too the way she gulps down Rhett’s brandy in one swift movement, because, though she’d never stress the point (and he doesn’t even seem to notice), she could drink with the best of them. McDaniel’s performance alone is worth the price of admission, and we can relax when she’s onscreen because we laugh with her, not at her (indeed, we often laugh with her at the white characters’ expense; she short-circuits their condescension). When McDaniel let us take a peek at her bright red petticoat, she was allowing a generation of moviegoers to glimpse a black character’s humanity, and doing her part to lessen the load of societal prejudice.
Still, the film’s world is indeed far from our own, and as New Englanders, we’re bound to watch some of the scenes with wry bemusement. Those dastardly yankees they’re always denigrating are, in fact…us! Or as one audience member was overheard remarking to friends after the show, “I kept having the sensation that all the good guys were offscreen…” Indeed, this is true in more ways than one of the dastardly but dashing Rhett and especially the queen bee bitch Scarlett – but as has been demonstrated, that’s not such a bad thing after all.
(Please read David Denby’s fascinating New Yorker article on Victor Fleming, the man who directed Gone With the Wind yet is often ignored – as he has been here, come to think of it.)
[Originally this post provided a link to my piece, which was first posted on the Examiner. As of 1/29/10, it has been moved here in its entirety.]
MovieMan – Great review of a film that I surprisingly saw for only the first time recently. I expected it to feel incredibly bloated and dated, but I have to admit to having really enjoyed it. I thought that it worked best for me when I just let go and accepted the grand-scale and epic sweep of the film. In fact, I liked it a lot more than I ever thought I would. There are certainly problems with the film, as you acknowledge, but it holds up as well as could be expected for a film like it.
This paragraph in particular struck and is one that I completely agree with:
“Indeed, one would expect Gone With the Wind’s racial politics to be hard to take today, but in fact what’s most disturbing is how easily they go down. Compare The Birth of a Nation, that notoriously racist masterpiece of D.W. Griffith, a silent film which celebrated the Ku Klux Klan and was the Gone With the Wind of its day, in terms of popularity. That film goes so far in its bigotry that it remains quite disturbing, but Gone With the Wind knows not to go too far, and in this sense it is the more dangerous of the two films. There was much laughter – uncomfortable laughter, but laughter nonetheless – in the theater at the antics of the “silly Negroes.” Gone With the Wind could certainly be accused of delivering white supremacy with a spoonful of sugar.”
You’re spot on in this assessment. I think that an actor like Hattie McDaniel is so good in her role (she was unquestionably great), that it’s easy to view her as being happy in her role and forget that she was held as a slave for many, many years.
Yes, Dave, Movie Man is indeed spot on with this assessment. Few films in movie history have remained as imminently entertaining with repeat viewings. Truth is, this grandest of soap operas remains mesmerizing for its magnificently deliniated characters, it’s almost mythic grandeur, it’s deliberate flaunting of historical stereotypes, it’s grandiloquent technical craftsmanship, it’s shameless but gleeful manipulation and it’s superlative examination of one of American literature’s most magnetic characters, Scarlet O’Hara, who provided Vivien Leigh with the opportunity to deliver what must surely be one of the four or five greatest performances in the entire history of the cinema. Numerous elaborate set pieces, the ravishing widescreen canvas, an iconic Max Steiner score (which serves as the essential underpinning of the “Tara” excerpt Movie Man provides under the you tube clip) and a supporting performance by Hattie McDaniel, which pushes very close to Leigh’s in it’s master-class acting brilliance.
For the obvious reasons this film was under sttack almost from the beginning, but frankly my dear I don’t give a damn. It’s enthralling and enrapturing entertainment, matters that avalanche the kind of nitpicking it seems to attract.
Again, Movie Man has written an exhaustive and fascinating piece, which readers like myself will stick with to the very last word.
Would you say that Leigh gave the greatest performance of all-time? I too could watch this film once a week. I have have always been hopelessly addicted to it. I know the characterization of the ‘Yankees’ has always been over-the-top, but that’s part of the fun. I would add Olivia de Havilland’s performance as the incomparable goody two shoes.
No Bob, I would say that Rene Falconetti gave the greatest performance in the history of the cinema (by a man or woman) in Dreyer’s THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC. Many other woman like Simone Signoret, Katherine Hepburn, Lillian Gish, Jean Moreau, Hideko Takamine and Setsuko Hara gave extraordinary performances as well, (Davis and Garland aren’t to be ignored either) but perhaps the greatest American ‘talking performance was Gloria Swanson’s in SUNSET BOULEVARD. But there are others, and comparing the ones I just mentioned is probably a ludicrous pursuit.
As far as Leigh goes, her own STREETCAR performances pushes close (very close) to the one she gives in GWTW.
I first saw this for the first time on the big screen in the early 80s and enjoyed it immensely. My parents were from the South, and I can tell you that Southerners of their generation absolutely believed the mythology of GWTW. A couple of observations: The story reminds me of “Vanity Fair” in that the scoundrels (Scarlett and Rhett) are far more interesting and entertaining than the sticky-sweet characters (Melanie and Ashley). I always wondered if Margaret Mitchell modeled this aspect of the plot on Thackeray’s novel. If so, she had the sense to put the more interesting couple front and center and the make the more virtuous dullards supporting characters. A year or so ago, PBS aired a special on the role of the art director in movies, and a lot of time was spent on William Cameron Menzies’ work on GWTW. His designs for the sets (which were done before the movie was cast or the director hired) were shown, and they were in essence storyboards that included the sequence of shots and even camera placement. Artistic decisions that we normally consider the work of the director were made in advance, and the director was expected to work as a project manager. It made me realize why Hitchcock had such problems with Selznick on “Rebecca”: Selznick considered the movie his and the director another employee like the actors and technicians. The special made me realize how more than one director worked on GWTW, yet you can barely tell it. (To me those ante-bellum scenes, though, have the stamp of Cukor on them.) It also emphasized for me the validity of the objections of auteurists to the role of the director in the studio system.
R. D. As always we can expect you to raise the bar, and you have not failed us. I’m sure Mitchell was thinking VANITY FAIR, and yes I agree that placing the more interesting couple to the forefront made for a much for fascinating experience. De Havilland gave a great performance, but her character (and Ashley’s) were lifeless and one-note to the point of distraction. Cameron Menzies’ work here is given special treatment in a documentary included on the special edition DVD, apart from and also included in on GONE WITH THE WIND: THE MAKING OF A CLASSIC. Yeah, this film kind of directed itself, and I can imagine what Hitch must have had to go through with Selznick! Ha! At least the Lewton directors were able to ansorb their master’s complicity in what was a welcome enrichment.
Enjoyable review. Made me want to watch the movie again.
Sometimes the producer is the auteur, if he has enough money! In fact, sometimes the writer is the auteur!!
And I’ll chime in and say WOW!!!! This is a great piece on a film that became legend almost the very moment Victor Fleming yelled out ACTION! I happen to prefer Flemings THE WIZARD OF OZ as the best film of 1939, but have long enjoyed countless screenings of this amazing movie. Do I think this is the greatest Hollywood movie so many have labeled it for decades? Not by a long shot. But, I WILL defend it as one of the greatest pieces of visual linear story telling ever churned out by the machine. I’ll also add that I agree with Sam that other actresses have given Leigh a run for the money with their offerings of greatest female performances of all time (I would include Meryl Streep in SOPHIES CHOICE to that list). This is a first rate essay, and probably made for the most enjoyable part of my day. Thanx MOVIEMAN!!!!!
I’m glad all of you enjoyed the piece. On this most recent viewing, I found the second act more uneven and less satisfying than the first, which was always the case to a certain extent but stuck out to me more this time. It could have just been that it was late in the evening after a long day, though.
Sam, yes – the Scarlett and Blanche roles really feed off of each other and it’s tempting, despite the obvious historical/chronological impossibility, to see Blanche as Scarlett past her prime, her family’s decline complete. I think it makes Streetcar a stronger film than if Jessica Tandy played the part – nothing against her or her performance of course.
Dave, yes that’s one of the ironies I hoped to suggest – that because the black actors tackle their roles with such relish (and who can blame them?) the racism is easier to swallow. It’s a sticky situation: one wishes the film didn’t make it so easy to go with the flow, yet one would never want to denigrate these actors’ seizing a rare opportunity to shine (as always, they play servants but these servants play a more prominent role than those in most Hollywood films).
Bobby M, Olivia (again, 93!) definitely does the best she can with the goody two shoes. Though I miss her flaming passion she showed in Captain Blood (if the IMDb birthday is correct, she must have been only 19 then).
R.D., it is fascinating how much work went in to these Golden Age productions and how everything was so compartmentalized and yet craftsmanship was so high. Have you ever read “The Making of The Wizard of Oz”? It really captures this phenomenon wonderfully I think. Which brings me to…
Dennis, I too might prefer Wizard of Oz in the long run, though both films are so high up there it really doesn’t matter.
And Bobby J, there’s a great discussion to be had there, but I’m trying to stay out of the quicksand so I won’t take the bait…at least not now!
Great review from Movie Man; I’m glad you’re doing well in print and I’m also glad Sam can re-post it here for many of us to read.
I can’t say much different than what has already been said here in the comments and above. I revisited my own review from nearly a year ago (!) and still believe much of what I wrote then: that it’s no doubt a great movie, certainly and unfortunately a bit too unwieldy to revisit on a whim but oh well. Scant flaws and all considered, it’s still iconic and one of the grandest spectacles produced in film. Great review, kudos.
Outstanding review.
There are many gorgeous scenes in the movie; each scene stands out as a work of art. Who could forget the simplicity of the women strolling down the grand staircase at the Wilkes’ barbeque? Or what about Eric Linden’s heartwrenching screams as he fights to keep his leg? What a powerful statement the field of wounded and dying soldiers makes as the torn Confederate flag weakly waves in the breeze! And who is not jarred by the impact of the red sky against the hopelessness of the war torn fields of Georgia? Scene after scene cements itself into the unconscious and becomes more powerful with each viewing. In the end the film’s unforgettable images overcome the ‘complaints’.
Over the years it always seemed that there was a new issue to take up with this film. But no matter how many times you see it, it always gets you involved all over again. Here is a case where popularity breeds contempt.
I always thought it interesting that Thomas Mitchell, who played Scarlett’s Irish father in this film (and gave a solid performance) wonthe Oscar that year for John Ford’s ‘Stagecoach’ rather than for this film.
Impressive review. It does make me want to watch this again as soon as I can.
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