32. Simone Signoret in 'Room at the Top' (1959)

Plot intro

Joe Lampton (Laurence Harvey) is a working class, ambitious young man who gets a job in Yorkshire which connects him to people of greater wealth and higher social status. He does what any hot-blooded young man does and ends up sexually entangled with two women. The first is young Susan Brown (Heather Sears), whom he wants to marry and whose parents disapprove of Joe. The second is sultry, French Alice Aisgill (Simone Signoret) who is 10 years older, unhappily married and desperate to escape her life…

Paul says...

Room at the Top is an appropriate film to round off the '50s. It continues the trend of topic-du-jour films which tackle a hard-hitting theme and analyse it to death through a female character. In the other Best Actress movies of the '50s we’ve had domestic abuse, Italian immigrants, mental health, and the death penalty, and we end the decade with class and sex. Rock on!

Indeed, for anyone who has seen a lot of films from this era, Room at the Top is surprisingly open when it comes to sex. Characters snog each other profusely in cars and dark corners and discuss the act immediately afterwards with an openness that seems tame to our eyes but is quite explicit for 1959. It was rated X in America and even got banned in some parts of the world. The sexual element is very pertinent and this will continue into the Best Actress winners of the '60s. It’s interesting that the Best Picture winners of this era were colourful musicals and historical epics while the acting awards went to more intense, domestic pieces.

But for me Room at the Top is one of the weaker additions to the Best Actress canon. As I said, its cultural significance has been a bit lost to the winds of time because it feels tame when once it was controversial. And the way it addresses class is so lacking in subtlety it’s almost comical. There are some decent moments that illustrate the class divides and difficulties in that perennially bleak part of the UK, The North. Joe attempts to approach Susan and her family at a swanky ball, leading to an immensely awkward conversation as it quickly becomes apparent that they just want him to go away. Susan’s boyfriend, a former soldier of higher ranking than Joe was in the war, talks down to him by calling him by his army rank, a constant reminder of his social inferiority.

But these observational moments are counter-balanced by lengthy, over-written scenes that inevitably end up with Joe yelling “I’m working class, I am!” because apparently we need to be reminded of this every 10 minutes. We are spoon-fed the conflicts in a very Downton Abbey kind of way with characters almost explaining to the camera “You can’t marry her, she’s too wealthy and upper class and you are not etc etc”. The increasingly tragic events in the story become predictable and expected and as a result the over-two-hour runtime feels even longer.

I also don’t think Signoret gives the best of performances, at least compared to the sort of hard-hitting stuff we’ve had from Vivien Leigh, Ingrid Bergman and Shirley Booth or to the women she defeated (Doris Day, both Hepburns AND Elizabeth Taylor). She’s sultry and serene and her outsiderliness as a European in homogenous Yorkshire is spoken about but I don’t think the loneliness and desperation is fully conveyed by her. The character and performance are drearily lugubrious and melodramatic so her inevitable death didn’t elicit the reaction the writers hoped from me.

Interestingly, though, she was the first French actress to win an Oscar and no other French actor would win until Juliette Binoche in 1997, followed by Marion Cotillard in 2008. Her artistic credentials were pretty substantial. She lived under Nazi Occupation in Paris during which she mixed with artistic crowds at the famous Cafe de Flore. She stuck with international and independent films for the most part of her career, avoiding the superficial glitz and glamour of Hollywood. I imagine her miserably chain-smoking and drinking wine and discussing Nietzsche and Wittgenstein and being very, very French.

She was married to two blokes in the movie industry called Yves. The second, Yves Montand, is considered one of the greatest French actors around and indeed his performance in the classic French films Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources is astonishing. He did, however, have a few affairs including a well-publicised one with Marilyn Monroe. I don’t think he could have picked a woman more different from Signoret herself.

Signoret would achieve one more Academy Award nomination for Ship of Fools (also Vivien Leigh’s final film) and she died from cancer aged 64 in 1985. She and Montand are buried beside each other in Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.

Highlight

The scene in which Joe tries to approach and make conversation with the wealthy Brown family and their friends during a ball is fraught with Abigail's-Party-style awkwardness. 

Lowlight

Signoret’s death felt trite and expected all the way through. Killing off the super-tragic, super-miserable character is far too easy to do and it felt like lazy writing from the creators. 

Mark

3/10

Doug says...

Black and white film, footage of gritty streets with working class poverty on full display, passionate displays of infidelity and sex: yes everyone, it’s the British New Wave of cinema, highlighting ‘kitchen-sink realism’ for the first time! 

Let’s start with the honest kicker, time hasn’t been that kind to this film. Watching it now, after many evolutions of this genre, this is just a bit too unrelenting, a bit too on-the-nose. But I want to be kind because the audiences of 1959 had probably never seen anything like this. ‘Kitchen-sink realism’ hit Britain's novels, plays and films across the late ‘50s and early ‘60s, always featuring angry young men from working class backgrounds often fighting for success or to survive. It threw a spotlight on grimy pubs, small living rooms and mucky streets. Gone was the glamour of wealthy environments and forefront is ‘reality’ - booze-swilling loud-mouthed men and women and their day to day lives. Think John Osborne’s Look Back In Anger (which famously showed women ironing on stage) and Shelagh Delaney’s A Taste of Honey (where a teenager has a baby out of wedlock with a Black sailor and then moves in with her gay friend). One detail that stuck with me was when we see a religious sampler on the wall in a bare country cottage, obviously handmade and somehow depressing in its status as lone decoration.

This film is right at the forefront of this movement, no doubt shocking audiences. It features sex prominently (another staple of the movement, trust the British) but also we see other tropes like the non-elegant woman. Hermione Baddeley nabbed an Oscar nomination for her small role as Elsie (two minutes 19 seconds - the shortest ever screen appearance for a nomination), a common-as-muck type who plays the piano loudly, and eventually shows an alarming burst of rage towards our anti-hero, northerner Joe Lampton (regional accents being another trope).  

Amid all this riotous change, Simone Signoret walked away with the Oscar as Alice Aisgill.  Looking at it after several decades, it’s a nice, subtle performance but doesn’t have anything particularly special about it. But again I’m thinking of our late ‘50s audiences who wouldn’t have seen a sensual, jealous and romantic woman displayed in such a way. It must have felt truly groundbreaking and while she holds herself well, her finest moment for me came at the very start of the film where married woman Alice shows interest and jealousy when handsome Joe flirts with Susan, a rich (and available) woman. I liked the detail of the amateur dramatics group (again highlighting real leisure activities) and there’s a great deal of unbridled lust (not least when Joe who dates Alice and Susan simultaneously persuades Susan to let him take her virginity). 

It’s not a film or performance that’s stuck in my mind particularly and I think it’s notable that this was Signoret’s only win, but as a piece of history and a film at the turn of a hugely influential new movement, I enjoyed the chance to note this film, and enjoy its inclusion in the often glossy and rich-obsessed Oscars. 

Highlight

I enjoyed the chance to watch this piece of film history and honour the British New Wave in doing so.

Lowlight

This film hasn’t aged that well for me, proving quite dull and uninteresting. Signoret is fine but no one excels. 

Mark

3/10

14. How Green Was My Valley (1941) (Feat. Citizen Kane)

How Green Was My Valley Plot Intro

A small coal mining village in Wales during the late 1800’s. The Morgan family consist of Gwilym Morgan (Donald Crisp) and Beth Morgan (Sara Allgood) and their seven very-Welsh-named children, in particular their only daughter Angharad (Maureen O’Hara) and their youngest son, Huw (Roddy McDowall). There’s also a dishy new vicar, Mr Gruffydd (Walter Pidgeon) who has eyes for Angharad. Huw is the narrator and main POV of the family’s trials and tribulations, as they take us through strikes, money-worries, illnesses, emigration, malevolent school teachers, marriages, and deaths down the mines. 

Citizen Kane Plot Intro

In his colossal, barren mansion of Xanadu, newspaper magnate and Rupert-Murdoch-esque businessman, Charles Kane (Orson Welles), dies. His last word is cryptic and inexplicable to even his closest servants and friends- “Rosebud”. A team of journalists, determined to get a scoop, delve into his life, determined to discover who, or what, Rosebud is, and discover more about this enigmatic man. 

Paul says...

Citizen Kane is often named as one of the greatest films of all time. The American Film Institute, which compiles arguably the most definitive rankings of films and stars, places it at number one, surpassing other such household names as Gone With the Wind, The Godfather and Casablanca. It has had supreme influence on film-making thanks to its innovative cinematography and non-linear narrative structure (flashbacks and music-heavy montages are used very liberally). Any good film student would have studied it at some point - on pain of death. 

So why no Best Picture Oscar for Kane in 1941? Kane has so much to say about the human condition and how it changes when corrupted with power. It’s also a landmark in film-making styles. Well, on viewing How Green Was My Valley, I can now see why it won. It’s outstanding. The film is sweet, involving, and has a huge amount of heart to it, and provides an insight into a culture and time like a David Starkey documentary.

While Orson Welles approached Citizen Kane with a heavily artistic and conceptual frame of mind, John Ford (who won four Best Director Oscars) directs Valley much more simplistically, but lets the story and characters speak for themselves. There are extremely powerful and inspirational moments- Beth Morgan’s recovery from illness and her speech against the miners ostracising her husband; the elder brothers’ bittersweet departures to America, New Zealand and Canada in search of a better life; a hypocritical preacher’s condemnation of a fallen woman in front of an entire congregation. I was transported to 19th-century Wales throughout the whole two hours. It was so vivid and natural that it was like looking through a time-hole into a forgotten age. I wanted to be there, but the fear and suffering of these people, who manage to find humour even in the most grim of moments, also made me want to remain a bystander. I defy anyone to make their way through the film without shedding at least one tear, particularly for Sara Allgood’s stunning performance as matriarchal Beth. My only criticism is of the episode involving a sadistic, snobbish school teacher which felt a little too pantomime amidst the naturalism to me.

Is it a deserved win over Citizen Kane? In hindsight, perhaps not. Valley has pretty much faded into obscurity, unless you’re a big film buff, while Kane’s endurance and timelessness is self-evident. But in 1941, with war raging and cinema’s audiences crying out for smaller, more-domestic films, films that show real people overcoming real situations rather than the reverential life stories of the ’30s, Valley would have been the perfect catharsis for any cinema-goer worried about their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons consumed by the fogs of war. Charles Kane could be read as a relatively tenuous allegory for Hitler because his pursuit of helping the under-privileged turns into a struggle to maintain power and influence over the people, but Valley resonates more strongly in its depiction of communities helping each other no matter what strife is thrown at them. 

These are two very different films. Kane is innovative, character-driven, and timeless in its themes. Valley is more traditional and linear in its plot structure (similar to All Quiet on the Western Front, Cimarron and Cavalcade), but with more heart and realism than in previous pictures. It’s a much more quintessential example of the ’40s film as the next few films will prove, while Kane combines the magnitude of the ’30s films with the experimentation of the ’70’s. The latter would be my personal choice of winner due to its current notoriety, but both are excellent pieces of entertainment. Your preference really depends on your taste in films. 

How Green Was My Valley Highlight

Beth’s recovery from a prolonged illness is a powerful scene. Beforehand, the miners had been turning against her husband for opposing their strike. But they greet her at the door with friendliness and atonement. A lovely moment symbolising the importance of camaraderie and community.

Citizen Kane Highlight

Oh God, there’s so many moments to choose from! I suppose my favourite is when Kane is contacted by a colleague in Cuba saying that everyone’s writing poetry here and war will not happen. Determined to provide a headline, Kane replies, “You provide the prose poems, I’ll provide the war”.

How Green Was My Valley Lowlight

An over-acting school teacher bullying Huw for his low-class status and allowing other children to assault him. He eventually gets his comeuppance but it felt very melodramatic and incongruous compared to other episodes.

Citizen Kane Lowlight

I literally can’t think of anything. The film is so carefully thought out and connected together that it’s verging on perfect (despite my assertion that nothing can be totally perfect).

How Green Was My Valley Mark

9/10  

Citizen Kane Mark

10/10 

Doug says...

When we started this project, we scrolled through the films ahead of us, and alighted on the curious fact that Citizen Kane - considered by many film buffs to be the best film ever made - did not go on to win the Oscar, and lost out to a now-obscure film called How Green Was My Valley. We decided there and then that when it came to this week, we would watch both films and critique them, seeing whether the forgotten film about Welsh mining villages would stand up to the renowned Orson Welles masterpiece. I for one was excited to write a scathing review of some saccharine piece that had nothing on Welles’ film of power’s ultimate decay. 

As it was, they are both extraordinary pieces and to define which should have won the Oscar is ultimately incredibly hard. Kane is the first example we have of someone actually taking cinematography and running with it - something that films such as Birdman and La Vie En Rose owe a huge debt to. Every shot is perfectly planned, the central character is constantly shrouded in shadow, and in his final shot in the film, he walks past a mirror and is reflected in it thousands of times, each self walking on lonely into the dark. I was gripped by the central drama of who this man is, and the groundbreaking methods Welles has used to create it. 

So how on earth could Valley have beaten it? Well actually, it is in itself a wonderful piece. By focusing on the actualities of miner life (we see cave-ins, poverty, strikes and infighting), and setting it from one family’s viewpoint, we are drawn into the characters while never falling into sentimentality. And the Welsh singing throughout! It is a musical, mesmerising piece, with heroes and villains. The teacher Paul so disliked for pantomime villainy, I found rang terrifyingly true - and when two miners from our central character’s village storm into the classroom and beat the teacher up, I found myself loudly cheering at the tv screen. There’s a whole ream of themes - from the rich/poor divide, to how religion means different things for all of them. It’s filled with naturalistic acting, realistic and emotional narratives, and all tinged over with the everyday humour that is in all our lives. 

Ultimately I am unsure of who should have been the winner. In terms of breaking ground with style, cinematography and non-linear stories, Kane takes the crown in no uncertain terms. But for me the real winner is (by a hair’s breadth) Valley - it is our first instance of really naturalistic, powerful acting - led by the incomparable Sara Allgood who as the matriarch whips us through comic scenes and one scene of devastating tragedy with utmost realism. As she stands, frozen, simply waiting to hear the terrible news, I found myself unable to rip my eyes from her face. A forgotten masterpiece. 

   

How Green Was My Valley Highlight

Sara Allgood quietly steals every single scene she’s in with patient good-humoured kindliness, meaning that a tragic scene later on reaps great pathos.  

Citizen Kane Highlight

Every single shot is thought about and considered. Welles clearly adhered to the school of Hitchcock thinking. It’s a lesson in cinematography.

How Green Was My Valley Lowlight

There are moments which feel slower - though not dragging - but are soon whipped back up into the story, and proven to be necessary. 

Citizen Kane Lowlight

The acting, while elegant, is not really worth writing home about as the style overwhelms it. Also, the second wife’s angry voice is so irritating that it detracts from the power of her scenes

How Green Was My Valley Mark

10/10  

Citizen Kane Mark

10/10 

The PAD Awards: 1920s/1930s

The twelve films of the 1920s and '30s. 

Well we've made it past our first milestone. And as we reached the end of the 1930s, we thought it'd be a good moment to stop and reflect on what we've seen so far. And so - without further ado - the PAD (Paul and Doug) Awards...

Least Favourite Film 

Paul says: The Broadway Melody

I think we’re pretty unanimous on this one. Obviously, we were expecting some antiquated movie-making in the first decade of the Oscars but The Broadway Melody went so far with this that it was almost unbearable to watch at times. Acting and directing techniques were very much of the silent era, so most of them came across as over-acting in a sub-standard Broadway musical. The whole thing felt like it had been glued together with Prit-Stick, and it very much belongs back in the time it was made, like mullet hairstyles or 90’s track suits.

Doug says: The Broadway Melody

Oh god The Broadway Melody was so awful. It makes me cringe even to think of it now. Full of long dance pieces that seemed unintelligible, with a plot and characters that didn’t make any logical sense. It was as if they’d never made a film before, and I think it won purely for the novelty of sound and music - even though some cinemas weren’t yet equipped with the technology and so showed this musical - silent. It was truly a transitional piece, showing the difficult manoeuvre from silent to talkie and how easy it is to fail at. Definitely one to be left in the dusty museum cabinets.  

Favourite Male Performance 

Paul says: Lionel Barrymore, in Grand Hotel

Of course I’d heard of the Barrymore dynasty- right from Ethel, John and Lionel in the ’30’s through to Drew in Charlie’s Angels. But this project fully exposed me to the elder generation, and Lionel floored me in Grand Hotel. He was a scene-stealer in You Can’t Take It With You too (yes, he was in two of them- Clark Gable was in three!), but his performance as a man going on a massive European bender before he perishes from a terminal illness had more depth to it due to his development throughout the film- and due to his confrontation with the prehensile businessman for whom he worked for decades, but was never thanked. Although Grand Hotel was far from the best film, and Barrymore is not the most central of the cast (Garbo nicked that slot), his climactic attack on the businessman’s lack of humanity was the centrepiece of the film for me. Charles Laughton in Mutiny on the Bounty was also a close second.

Doug says: Edward Arnold, in You Can't Take It With You

Truth be told I’m not in love with any of the male performances from this era. We’re still stuck in the period where men weren’t really allowed to emote in case they come across as pathetic, which means we have a lot of same-y performances with men saying quick-witted lines and then taking a drag of their cigarette. However there’s one that stands out - Edward Arnold in You Can’t Take It With You. As the rich banker who begins to realise that his family do actually mean more than his financial status, he delivered a tour-de-force in underplayed acting, culminating in a typical Capra-esque ‘letting go and being happy’ narrative that actually felt pretty real. Big props to the scene where he sat in the boardroom, silently stealing the focus without moving a muscle. Judi Dench would be in awe. 

Favourite Female Performance 

Paul says: Vivien Leigh, in Gone With The Wind

Let’s face facts here, Viv acts her socks off. She conveys Scarlett O’Hara’s volcanic, mercurial, snarling side whilst also rendering her sympathetic and even admirable in her inherent expertise at surviving the American Civil War (again, survival! A theme!). And she is the Queen of Resting Bitch Face. This is no mean feat, especially considering the chaos that Gone With the Wind’s production went through. Re-writes to prevent the film going past an inordinate four hours; one director (George Cukor) getting fired while his replacement, Victor Fleming, was temporarily replaced by a third director, Sam Wood, due to exhaustion; and a budget that was never quite enough. And yet, Leigh maintains her energy and her focus all the way through, flitting from expression to emotion without resorting to the over-acting of Luise Rainer in The Great Ziegfeld.

Doug says: Clara Bow, in Wings 

It’s a close call, and while Vivien Leigh is deservedly iconic as Scarlett O’Hara, delivering each and every ‘fiddle dee dee’ with a genuine carelessness, I’ve found it hard to shake the star power of Clara Bow from my memory. Watching a 1927 silent film was a fair slog, and yet every scene Clara Bow was in immediately lit up and seized the attention. Her name is still remembered as one of the silent film greats, and it was easy to see why. She is all energy and vitality, much as Vivien Leigh would be a decade later, and she was an unexpected find among the juddering amateurish film-making of the late ‘20s. The scene when she hid from bombs under her car in particular stood out as a great example of her superb physicality mingled with a skilled acting ability and without any voice at all - ‘look mama, no sound’! 

Favourite Film 

Paul says: The Life of Emile Zola

For me, the key theme of the 20’s/30’s films is survival. As society crumbles then rebuilds itself through the Great Depression in both excellent and hideous ways, most of our main characters are striving to keep their heads above water in some way or another. Whether they are doing this quite literally whilst dodging gun fire in war films Wings and All Quiet on the Western Front; or trying to establish their name in a brand new community in Cimarron; or surviving at sea with no food in Mutiny on the Bounty; or fending off greedy businessmen and corrupt politicians in The Broadway Melody and You Can’t Take It With You. This was the constant throughout, but The Life of Emile Zola tackled survival in the face of regnant corruption, and the battle for a changed, good society, with full force. I was captivated by the courtroom scenes especially (we all know I love a good courtroom scene), and Paul Muni’s central performance oozes with charisma and sympathy. Above all, it was my most exciting film, an air-punching insight into one of history’s best known tales, and one which I would recommend to anyone who loves a bit of social injustice.

Doug says: It Happened One Night

Going into this from the very beginning has been fascinating, as we’ve started off with a black-and-white silent film (oh the barrel organ music…) and have just finished our first full-colour epic. And while there’s been a clear shift in the films’ content from memorialising World War One to anticipating World War Two, we’ve also seen the film-makers become more confident in their techniques, each film slicker and more professional than the last. For me, although Gone With The Wind was by far the best-made film, my favourite had to be the screwball comedy It Happened One Night. Before Frank Capra delved into saccharine sentimentality, he proved himself capable of hilarious film-work like this. Not only do Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert shimmer on screen with energy and vitality, but the film itself is very funny and so beautifully constructed. It’s one of the few that I’d willingly watch again, and the background of the Great Depression only serves to make it more intriguing. 

Average Film Scores 

Paul: 6.58/10

Doug: 5.75/10

12. Gone With The Wind (1939)

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. 

Paul says...

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  

Doug says...

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