Showing posts with label Gone With the Wind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gone With the Wind. Show all posts

Monday, December 15, 2014

Burning Down the House



"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

Rhett Butler (Clark Gable)

(1939 is widely regarded as the greatest year ever for the motion picture. Ten movies were nominated for Best Picture that year, and today I take a look at the ninth of those 10 movies to hit the theaters.)
That is the greatest movie quote of all time, according to the American Film Institute, and it is hard to argue with that conclusion.

AFI had some great quotes on that list — "I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse," "I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore," "Go ahead, make my day" — but Clark Gable got the nod for the greatest quote.

As I say, it's hard to argue with. But it isn't the only memorable line in "Gone With the Wind," which premiered on this day in 1939. Of course, that almost goes without saying. The movie is darn near four hours long. There had to be at least one more memorable line in there, right? In fact, Scarlett (Vivien Leigh) had several. I'll bet one or two leap to mind with virtually no effort.

Overall, AFI ranked "Gone With the Wind" sixth — behind some other movies with memorable quotes.

But, in the history of movies, few could match "Gone With the Wind" for both memorable lines and iconic images.

Like the burning of Atlanta.

I remember an episode of M*A*S*H in which Hawkeye had been trying unsuccessfully to seduce a nurse with whom he had, apparently, had a previous relationship, and the nurse was taking a "been there, done that" approach.

"'Gone With the Wind' is a great movie, Hawkeye," I remember her saying to him, "but after you've seen 'em burn Atlanta several times, it's not so hot anymore."

See, I disagree with that. Great line for a sitcom, but, in reality, it doesn't hold up. At least, not for me. I think "Gone With the Wind" is great moviemaking, especially given the technological constraints of that time, and it never gets old for me.

"Gone With the Wind" is great storytelling, too, even if there are some historical inaccuracies. In the realm of fiction, one is permitted certain liberties, and "Gone With the Wind" has never, to my knowledge, been marketed as nonfiction.

No one ever pretended that Rhett and Scarlett really existed. But people who were like them — or mostly like them — did exist in the Old South, and Rhett and Scarlett represented them. Good fiction makes it possible to do that plausibly, and much of "Gone With the Wind" was, indeed, good fiction. But some of it was not.

I have always been impressed with the way "Gone With the Wind" presented the pre–war arrogance of the South juxtaposed against the post–war South, humbled by loss. Wow, what a contrast.

For the Southerners who survived the war, it must have been astonishing to experience the reversal of fortune at every level of Southern society. Not every Southerner was a slave owner, of course. That was something that only those with land and money could afford; then as now, not everyone had land and money.

So, while, yes, it is true that "Gone With the Wind" was historically inaccurate at times, it was spot–on accurate at others. Some historians may tell you that does a disservice to the story of the Civil War.

I don't agree with that. To teach, it is often necessary to put a little jam on the bread.

Sunday, January 05, 2014

George Reeves' 100th Birthday



"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!"

George Reeves, who was probably best known as TV's Superman, was born on this day 100 years ago.

The first glimpse that most people got of him was 75 years ago in "Gone With the Wind." He was one of the Tarleton twins seen early in the movie flirting with Scarlett.

Before he landed his career–defining role as Superman, Reeves appeared in several B movies, co–starring in a few with Ronald Reagan and James Cagney. The Superman role led to some other movie roles as well. In general, I guess you could say the '50s were good years for Reeves.

At least, until the last one.

In the early morning hours of June 16, 1959, Reeves died of a gunshot wound to his head. Initially believed to be a suicide, many people refused to accept that Reeves would take his own life; thus, the truth about Reeves' death remains shrouded in mystery more than half a century later.

Coincidentally, one of Reeves' last remaining co–stars from "Gone With the Wind," Alicia Rhett, died yesterday at the age of 98 in Charleston, S.C. Rhett played India Wilkes, the sister of Scarlett's love interest, Ashley Wilkes.

The 75th anniversary of the release of "Gone With the Wind" is coming up later this year.

If your only exposure to Reeves has been in his role as Superman or even "Gone With the Wind," you might want to look at Turner Classic Movies today. Four of his pre–Superman movies will be shown, starting at 9 a.m. (Central).

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Vivien Leigh's 100th Birthday



Anyone who has ever seen Vivien Leigh in a movie — and that must mean just about everyone — would agree.

She was stunningly beautiful.

And, to these Southern ears, she sounded legitimately Southern in "Gone With the Wind" and "A Streetcar Named Desire," but, in fact, she was the daughter of an English military officer stationed in India at the time of her birth.

Leigh was born 100 years ago today, and she looked upon her beauty as more of a curse than a blessing. She felt it kept her from being taken seriously.

That may have been true with some filmmakers, but the American Film Institute certainly takes her seriously. AFI rated her 16th on its list of the 25 greatest actresses of all time.

And the Academy Awards took her seriously. She was named Best Actress twice — for her performances in "Gone With the Wind" and "A Streetcar Named Desire."

Of all the movies she made, those are almost certainly the two for which she is most remembered.

My guess is that was the kind of attention she craved — recognition for her ability to act, not for her beautiful features. She was a lot like Elizabeth Taylor, I guess. Taylor gained weight and did everything she could think of to make her portrayal of Martha in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" as realistic as possible — and was rewarded with an Oscar.

Leigh, who was nearly 20 years older than Taylor, didn't go to such physical extremes, but, as I say, it was her acting ability that she wanted people to remember.

(Taylor, in fact, was an admirer of Leigh's. I have heard that Taylor, who regarded Leigh as a "tragic heroine," saw her role in "Virginia Woolf" as an opportunity "to really act.")

Largely known for her stage roles before being cast as Scarlett O'Hara, Leigh gained virtually instant fame when she emerged from a well–publicized quest that included many better–known performers. But she insisted that she was an actress, not a film star.

"I'm not a film star — I'm an actress. Being a film star — just a film star — is such a false life, lived for fake values and for publicity. Actresses go on for a long time, and there are always marvelous parts to play."

Even if you don't consider the two roles for which she was rewarded with Oscars, it would be hard to dismiss Leigh as merely a "film star."

Sure, she was beautiful, and that is about the only requirement these days for a woman to be a movie star, but Leigh had talent that she brought to every project, be it on stage or the big screen.

I suppose you can't separate Leigh's career from that of her second husband, Laurence Olivier. They often worked together during their 20–year marriage.

Leigh and Olivier met before Leigh was cast in "Gone With the Wind." They were co–stars in "Fire Over England," young lovers on screen — and off, as it turned out. Both were married to other people, but they would be married to each other three years later.

And Leigh's relationship with Olivier played its own role in the two most noteworthy parts she ever had.

It was during their affair that Leigh read "Gone With the Wind" and decided she would play Scarlett.

And it was during their marriage that Leigh played the role of Blanche DuBois, first in a London stage production of "A Streetcar Named Desire" in 1949, then as Marlon Brando's co–star in the big–screen version two years later.

"Streetcar" director Elia Kazan was unimpressed with Leigh initially, but she proved her "determination to excel" to him during the production of the film.

"She'd have crawled over broken glass if she thought it would help her performance," he said.

Following her marriage to Olivier, Leigh had a tendency to drop out of public sight for months, even years, and the stage was always her preference to the silver screen. What fans saw in public was a woman who seemed to be in control of herself and her career, but privately, Leigh battled emotional and health issues that eventually took their toll on both her marriage and her career.

She died in July 1967 of the tuberculosis with which she had struggled for years.

(By the way, Turner Classic Movies will be showing 11 of Leigh's movies today, including the two for which she won Oscars.)

Sunday, March 10, 2013

'Jezebel' Was Bette Davis' Show



I suspected the truth about "Jezebel" (which premiered 75 years ago today) long before I learned what the truth was.

Bette Davis, like many other famous actresses of that time, was passed over when the role of Scarlett O'Hara in "Gone With the Wind" was cast. The role of Jezebel (the character's name was Julie), I suspected, was Warner Bros.' way of making it up to her.

It was a pretty good consolation prize. William Wyler (who later directed cinema classics like "Mrs. Miniver," "The Best Years of Our Lives," "Ben–Hur" and "Ronan Holiday") was the director, and Henry Fonda and George Brent were her co–stars.

Scarlett and Julie weren't very different, I guess (other than the fact that "Gone With the Wind" was a bestseller and a Pulitzer Prize winner).

Both were tough Southern gals. I have known several real–life Scarletts and Julies in my life. They were seldom, if ever, as affluent as Scarlett and Julie, but they were every bit as headstrong.

There were many other similarities, as well as some significant differences. Scarlett, of course, was from Georgia. Julie hailed from New Orleans.

And Scarlett's story was played out against the backdrop of the Civil War whereas Julie's story took place several years before the war broke out. I'll leave it to individual viewers to ascertain which setting was more dramatic, but both roles were undeniably dramatic.

I guess nearly everyone has seen "Gone With the Wind" so I won't go into much more detail about the character of Scarlett O'Hara. I'll just tell you a little more — and you can decide if there is any resemblance.

Scarlett, of course, was in love with Ashley, but she never married him. Julie had a fiancee whom she lost because she was stubborn, willful, prideful and vain. Sound familiar?

Julie's fiancee was played by Fonda — and I honestly can't think of any other role that Fonda played in his long, distinguished career that was more wooden than Preston Dillard. In fact, I've often wondered if Fonda wouldn't have had more to work with if he had been cast as Ashley.

For all his shortcomings, at least Ashley's character was multidimensional.

I guess that was OK, though. "Jezebel" was about Bette Davis.

But that's just my opinion.

You can take my word for it. Or, better still, you can watch it and judge for yourself. "Jezebel" will be shown on Turner Classic Movies Friday, March 15.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Gone With the Wind Turns 75



"When a Southerner took the trouble to pack a trunk and travel twenty miles for a visit, the visit was seldom of shorter duration than a month, usually much longer. Southerners were as enthusiastic visitors as they were hosts, and there was nothing unusual in relatives coming to spend the Christmas holidays and remaining until July."

Margaret Mitchell
"Gone With the Wind"

Margaret Mitchell's Pulitzer Prize–winning novel "Gone With the Wind" was first published 75 years ago in May.

I was a teenager when the movie that was based on the novel was first shown on network television. It was the highest–rated program in TV history (it has been surpassed a few times since then), and I remember watching it in a special two–night presentation.

Shortly thereafter, I read the book.

My friend Phyllis, who died last summer (and of whom I have written in this blog and in my current events blog), introduced me to the book — and, because of her, I bought a paperback copy.

It really was a wonderful story. When you got right down to it, it was about a spoiled Southern girl who was hopelessly in love with a married man. I grew up in the South, and I knew many girls like her. In my experience, it was a timeless tale that could be told against the backdrop of the Civil War or the civil rights movement.

I had known for a long time that Phyllis loved the movie — but I always thought that was because she loved Clark Gable. I don't know why it never occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, Phyllis loved the book first — and her affection for the movie and Clark Gable came next.

I never asked her about that so I'll probably never know which came first, and it really doesn't matter. It's a great book, rich with details about life in the South and a period in American history that no one now living (and, for the most part, no one living when the book was published in 1936, either) can recall.

I still have that paperback copy. In fact, I'm looking at it right now. I've been thumbing through it, and it's in remarkably good shape, considering all the moves it has survived — and that is certainly appropriate.

Wherever I have lived in my adult life, that book has been with me. I will always be grateful to Phyllis for introducing me to it.

(I remember showing her my copy the day after I bought it. We were sitting in some class together, and I handed it to her. She thumbed through it, smiled, said something to me that I have forgotten and handed the book back to me.

(Whatever DNA she might have left on that book is probably long gone, but I'd be willing to bet that her fingerprints can still be found on it.)

If you've seen the movie, you know the story. There are just so many details in the book that couldn't be worked into the movie — even though the movie was nearly four hours long.

Conversations are more extensive in the book than they are in the movie, and the reader gets the opportunity to dive more deeply into the characters' thoughts and motivations.

And the burning of Atlanta, as vivid as it is in the movie, seems to go on endlessly in the book, recapturing what must have been the absolute terror of the people of that time and place.

Slavery is part of the story's backdrop, but it isn't really what the book is about — just as it wasn't what the war was about at first. However, the book did have a tendency to present the slaves as being considerably more content with their lot in life than I would have expected.

That led to an interesting point about the social hierarchy that existed in the slave population. There was, as a British writer who visited the South a few years before the outbreak of the war noted, a difference between slaves who were house servants and slaves who were field hands. The "most important distinction," he wrote, was that the house servants were "comparatively well off."

Consequently, it was realistic when Mitchell's book suggested that the house servants at Tara were loyal and remained with Scarlett even after they had been freed by the Emancipation Proclamation — whereas the field hands did not hesitate to leave when they could.

Mitchell was criticized for some things. She was accused of sugar–coating the activities of the Ku Klux Klan and of penning a racist portrayal of black Americans of that time.

But people who focus on those things miss the point of the story. It isn't about the Klan. It isn't about slavery. It isn't even about a spoiled Southern girl who is fixated on a married man.

It's about survival, as Mitchell herself said.

"What makes some people come through catastrophes and others, apparently just as able, strong and brave, go under?" she asked. "It happens in every upheaval. Some people survive; others don't. What qualities are in those who fight their way through triumphantly that are lacking in those that go under? I only know that survivors used to call that quality 'gumption.' So I wrote about people who had gumption and people who didn't."

That quality was summed up in Scarlett's final line in both the book and the movie: "After all, tomorrow is another day."

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

A Classic ... 70 Years Later


This is the trailer from the 1961 re–issue of "Gone With the Wind."


Some folks will tell you that "Gone With the Wind" is the greatest American film ever made.

Whether it is or not, it is certainly highly regarded.

It didn't finish in the top slot in the American Film Institute's Top 100 movies of all time list — but it did end up in the Top 10.

And most movie buffs agree that "Citizen Kane," "Casablanca" and "The Godfather" were better.

But "GWTW" — as some movie fans like to call it — has been a classic virtually since it premièred at Loew's Grand Theatre in Atlanta 70 years ago today.

It set a record for Academy Awards — winning 10 — that stood for two decades until "Ben–Hur" came along. That was quite an achievement, considering that 1939 is still regarded as Hollywood's greatest year by many movie aficionados. It told a story about a critical period in American history that may well have been romanticized, but even today, the movie is recalled by students of film as one of the most enduring symbols of the golden age of Hollywood.

The film caused quite a commotion on Dec. 15, 1939, when it premiered in Atlanta. The actual premiere came at the end of three days of festivities that former President Jimmy Carter, who was a Georgia teenager at the time, called "the biggest event to happen in the South in my lifetime."

Ironically, the Jim Crow laws on the books at the time kept the black members of the cast from attending the premiere. Clark Gable was going to boycott the premiere in protest, but Hattie McDaniel, who won Best Supporting Actress for her performance as Mammy, persuaded him to attend.

To my knowledge, no festivities were planned in Atlanta today. Apparently, a 70th anniversary celebration was held last month in nearby Marietta.

Well, "Gone With the Wind" always did seem to write its own rules.

Can anyone deny its lasting influence on American culture, especially when one thinks of such lines as:
  • "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

  • "After all, tomorrow is another day!" and

  • "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again."
So much of "Gone With the Wind" has become familiar over the years that it naturally lent itself to parody — the best of which, undeniably, was the one Carol Burnett and her colleagues did in the 1970s.

Imitation, they say, is the most sincere form of flattery. And I'm sure the cast would have been flattered, but most were dead by the time that parody aired. The film's last survivng principal cast member was Olivia de Havilland — and I don't know if she ever saw it.

Well, the now 93–year–old de Havilland was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar four times in her movie career, and she won the statuette twice.

But mark my words.

When she dies, the first line of her obituary will not say that she was a two–time Best Actress winner.

It will say she was "Melanie Hamilton" in "Gone With the Wind."

Saturday, February 21, 2009

A Classic Spoof of a Classic



Turner Classic Movies aired "Gone With the Wind" this afternoon as part of its annual "31 Days of Oscar."

This year is the 70th anniversary of the debut of that classic film, but I haven't been able to watch it in the last 30 years without thinking of the classic parody from the "Carol Burnett Show" from the 1970s. Dinah Shore was a guest on the show, but most of the credit for the spoof really goes to the talents of Carol Burnett and Harvey Korman, who died last year.

I've included a portion of the skit with this post. If you're even remotely familiar with the movie, you'll recognize what's being spoofed.

Watch it and enjoy it.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Summer of '39 Was a Season of Speculation

In the summer of 1939, Carly Simon hadn't been born yet, but if her hit single "Anticipation" had existed at that time, it would have made a good theme song.

It was not quite summer when the grand opening was held for the New York World's Fair, but the fair became one of the largest of all time, attracting more than 44 million people in 1939 and 1940, many of whom came to the fair in the summer months.

The timing of the opening was deliberate — April 30, 1939, was the 150th anniversary of George Washington's inauguration as president in New York City. But apparently it was also a little too early — many pavilions and facilities were not finished by April 30 — but that didn't keep President Roosevelt and almost a quarter of a million people from taking part in the grand opening ceremonies.

Television, still in its infancy, broadcast Roosevelt's speech, which was watched by roughly 1,000 people on TV sets throughout the New York area.

The world's fair promised visitors a glimpse at "the world of tomorrow," but none of the exhibits went so far as to explore the possibilities of nuclear fission. The leading scientists of the day, however, including Albert Einstein who fled Europe in the 1930s, did not ignore it.

In early August, Einstein signed his name to a letter to President Roosevelt, urging him to press for the development of the atomic bomb. Like many scientists, Einstein believed Germany also was pursuing a nuclear weapon, and he believed it was essential for America to build it first. The seeds of the Manhattan Project were in that letter.

In entertainment, 1939 has often been mentioned as a milestone year in motion pictures, with many classic films being released theatrically for the first time, but much of the story of that year can be told in the tales of two movies — "The Wizard of Oz" and "Gone With The Wind."

"The Wizard of Oz" was the recipient of plenty of media hype when it was released in August; although the film made a profit, received mostly positive reviews and was nominated for several Oscars, it was not generally regarded as a success when compared to its budget of nearly $2.8 million.

In fact, the film only began to earn its place among the classic movies after some re-releases and its first television broadcast in the mid-1950s.

"Gone With The Wind," meanwhile, opened in Atlanta in December, accompanied by a three-day festival.

It turned out to be a rare example of a film exceeding its hype. For two years, the public heard tales about the casting and filming of the sprawling adaptation of the 1936 novel. It premiered amid much hoopla and went on to live up to it, winning 10 Academy Awards.

As the summer of 1939 neared its end, World War II was beginning — the Nazis invaded Poland about five months after Britain's Neville Chamberlain made his famous "guarantee" of Poland's independence in a speech to the House of Commons.

Before September was over, many countries were forced to take sides, but the United States confirmed it wished to remain neutral.

As the winds of war continued to blow across the European continent, Americans promoted peace — in no small way through the rising popularity of "God Bless America," a song written by Irving Berlin near the end of World War I and then revised 20 years later. Kate Smith introduced the song on Armistice Day in November 1938, and the song was a popular hit in the summer of 1939.

Ultimately, the song did not keep the United States out of war, but it became Smith's signature song and it continues to inspire patriotism today.

It was, perhaps, fitting that, even with all the other things that were going on in the world in the summer of 1939, baseball and the "boys of summer" were in the news.

In June, baseball dedicated its Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y. The inaugural class of inductees came in 1936 and featured five of the legends of the game — but eight people, including the legendary Cy Young, were inducted when the Hall of Fame opened its doors in Cooperstown.

The day the 1939 inductees were announced, Lou Gehrig's streak of 2,130 consecutive major league games came to an end. The record stood for more than half a century.

On July 4, the recently retired and terminally ill Gehrig said goodbye to the fans in Yankee Stadium. "[T]oday I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth," he said.

Fittingly, baseball was one of the first sports to be shown on television when TV began putting sports events on the schedule in 1939. A college baseball game was televised in May and a major league game between Brooklyn and Cincinnati was broadcast in late August. In between, Max Baer beat Lou Nova in the first televised heavyweight fight. Later that autumn, college and pro football made their debuts.

And Little League Baseball was founded in Pennsylvania, making organized summer baseball a reality for generations of young boys to come.

Monday, December 15, 2008

The Premiere of 'Gone With the Wind'

From what I've been told, the premiere of "Gone With the Wind" 69 years ago today in Atlanta was the event of the decade — if not the century.

It was certainly one of the most anticipated films of all time. The book was published in 1936, and speculation started almost immediately over who would be cast to play Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara.

Nearly everyone who was anyone was mentioned, at one time or another, and almost any combination you can imagine, even if it seems bizarre in hindsight, was considered possible. At one point, Gary Cooper was a top contender to be cast as Rhett Butler — primarily because his contract involved a distribution company that had an eight-picture deal with producer David O. Selznick.

From the start, though, Clark Gable seems to have been the consensus choice of fans and critics alike. But I can't help wondering — if Cooper had been cast as Rhett Butler, would he ever have played Sgt. York? Or Lou Gehrig? Or Will Kane?

It was different with the role of Scarlett O'Hara. Nearly every actress in Hollywood — including Lucille Ball, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Katharine Hepburn — was mentioned for the role, but it came down to four in December of 1938 — Jean Arthur, Joan Bennett, Paulette Goddard and Vivien Leigh. Leigh and Goddard were the only two whose tests were done in Technicolor — and Leigh got the part.

The premiere came on the third day of a three-day festival in Atlanta. Georgia's governor declared a state holiday on the day of the premiere. Jimmy Carter, who was 15 at the time, said it was "the biggest event to happen in the South in my lifetime."

It was undeniably the biggest event in a year that is remembered by film lovers and movie historians as "the greatest year in film history," but for most moviegoers, it wasn't part of their experience in the 1930s. From the day of its 1939 premiere until June 1940, the film played to only advance-ticket road show audiences at a limited number of theaters. It went into general release in January 1941.

And there were parts of Margaret Mitchell's novel that weren't included (or were watered down) in the movie. You can argue that the movie was long enough already, and that's a valid point — it was nearly four hours long. But I think politics played a role as well.

For example, the book's description of the burning of Atlanta was even more vivid than the celebrated sequence in the film — and so was its depiction of the ravages of war. This part of the story was more subdued in the film.

And there was an episode involving the Ku Klux Klan that didn't end up in the movie. I won't discuss it any further, in case you haven't read the book.

Even so, "Gone With the Wind" clearly influenced — and continues to influence — the art of filmmaking.