Plot Intro
Atlanta, Georgia, 1861. Spoilt, volcanic Southern Belle, Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh), the Paris Hilton of the Deep South, is obsessed with marrying local bachelor Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard). But Ashley is betrothed to angelic goodie-two-shoes, Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). Also present is dashing douchebag, Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), who basically calls Scarlett out on her bullshit and proves to be a better match for her. Into this love quadrilateral steps the American Civil War, which destroys Scarlett’s entire world. Using her courage, intelligence and guts, Scarlett must re-build her life, and navigate a tumultuous relationship with Rhett.
What ISN’T there to love about Gone With the Wind?! It’s one of the most eventful four hours you’ll ever endure. Vivien Leigh flounces brilliantly through the film in dresses big enough to hide a walrus. Gable breaks your heart with his smarmy arseholeyness. Over-budgeted, over-long, and trawling through three directors, various re-writes and racial tensions on set, out of the chaos was born a film that is so iconic that it has been endlessly imitated, parodied and referenced. It has the first black person ever to win an Oscar (the inimitable Hattie McDaniel). After adjusting for inflation, it is the most financially successful film of all time (surpassing Avatar, Titanic and any of the individual Harry Potter films). Brimming with passion, pace and set-pieces, it’s a gargantuan, salient juggernaut of a film.
I say again, what ISN’T there to love about Gone With the Wind?
Well, there’s a couple of niggling points that prevent it from achieving a full 10 from me. Firstly, there’s the fact that the first half of the film, which covers the war, the fall of Atlanta, and some of the most spectacular moments in cinema, is hugely superior to the small-scale, more domestic-based second half. The first half has a steadier pace and builds up its emotions well. Meanwhile, the pace of the film in the second act quickens so dramatically that marriages, births, separations, deaths and miscarriages come at you so thick and fast that there’s barely any time to fully process and enjoy them. Many of the events (such as Rhett’s trip to London) could have been abbreviated or cut out to make a film with less laughable mawkishness - and a more manageable length.
Secondly, there is the much bigger race issue. Gone With the Wind has no qualms about depicting Southern culture as the pinnacle of glamour and morality, with the slaves happy and content with their status- and treated well by their white masters. Modern-day eyes will find this uncomfortable- 12 Years A Slave would later reveal the darker truth in 2013. One could argue that the film is of its time, or that it primarily wants to evoke the sadness of the Southerners at losing their fortunes and ways of life. But we must remember that this is a culture that would flutter its fan coquettishly with one hand, and beat up its slave with the other. A 21st century re-working would, for good reason, have more sympathy for the Yankees, and draw attention to the very relevant reasons why Lincoln had it in for the Southern states.
Having said all of this, Gone With the Wind remains one of my all-time faves because it’s so utterly massive without becoming overdone. Leigh manages to convey Scarlett’s mercurial but heroic nature with spontaneity and naturalism. It’s hard not to get swept away (see what I did there?) by the torrent of emotions, colours and music. It’s the perfect climax to a decade of films fraught with lofty themes around building civilisations and surviving in the face of adversity.
Now please excuse me whilst I dance around the room in a marquee and shout “Fiddle dee-dee!” with alacrity.
Highlight
The scene towards the end in which Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) informs Melanie Hamilton of what happened after the death of Scarlett’s child whilst climbing a set of stairs. McDaniel must have won her Oscar based on that scene because it is an absolute heart-breaker.
Lowlight
Why the hell does Rhett take Bonnie to London for all of 3 minutes?! Such incongruity.
Mark
9/10
There are several things that people often don’t get about Gone With The Wind. One of them is that it is, in essence, two separate halves with a continuous storyline running through. The first half is a study of the fall of the South, complete with grand houses, huge dresses, and everyone saying how happy the slaves look. The second half is an intimate portrait of Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler’s inability to get over themselves and admit how in love with each other they are. The two halves make up one epic whole which covers the decline of a long-gone society while also bringing superb, addictive characters to the fore.
It’s a great film. Vivien Leigh is on formidable form, ‘fiddle-dee-dee’ing her way through scenes with a bombastic energy that makes everyone fade away except for Clark Gable, who matches her with his sexual energy poured into each dimpled smile, and Olivia de Havilland whose Melly is sweet yet quietly forceful.
What I find fascinating about this is how far it differs from the book. Notably the use of the ’n’ racial slur was removed from the script after campaigners complained. To my memory, the word is in frequent use in Margaret Mitchell’s novel - as are a host of now-derogatory slurs. There are other details that have been removed too. When Frank Kennedy, Scarlett’s ill-fated second husband, gathers his friends (including the sanctimonious Ashley) to punish the men who attacked her, what the film neatly omits is that this gathering calls itself the Ku Klux Klan. Sound familiar?
It’s details like this that fascinate me. In the novel, Scarlett wonders how the Northerners consider her racist as they have no real contact with black people. She even thinks how the Southerners consider black women to be the best nannies as proof that they aren’t racist. And certainly her relationship with Mammy - and Mammy’s authority over her - make their way into the film, raising questions about who is in charge of who. Scarlett is by far more likeable in the novel, with far more examples of her sheer resilience, so that by the end when she has been left by Rhett once again (‘My dear, I don’t give a damn’), the reader needs her to pick herself back up, while in the film you can’t help but think that she kind of had it coming to her.
A side-detail is that so many readers were unable to deal with Scarlett’s apparent failure to win, that in the ‘80s, a new author picked up the thread and wrote a sequel ‘Scarlett’ which is actually very good. She is a fascinating central figure who we want so desperately to win - and seems incapable of not getting in her own way.
The film struggles to fit in all the novel's 1000 pages of action, even with its four hour running time, and so by the end it is rushing to catch up with itself (also featuring one of the most - unintentionally - hilarious deaths ever seen in film. I actually had to rewind and watch it again, I was laughing so hard). But that said, it’s a tour-de-force of fashion, eyebrow arching, and colour (boy is it good to see a colour film after eleven black-and-white ones), and they have spared no melodrama in the recounting of this great tale.
Highlight
The moment when Scarlett O’Hara appears in that red dress at a party having just been accused of cheating with her best friend’s husband is just fabulous. The dress, the gauzy shawl, the arched eyebrow - it’s all just so theatre.
Lowlight
Prissy the young black maid is not only a disturbingly racist stereotype, but her whiny voice is just so, so annoying.
Mark
9/10
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