GWTW ODH

In the late sum­mer of 2004, I had the great hon­or of being invited to inter­view Olivia De Havilland for Première. We spent a little over an hour and a half in a suite at The Pierre in Manhattan, and out dis­cus­sion ranged over a large num­ber of points in her career and life, not includ­ing her music­al num­ber in Thank Your Lucky Stars or her strained rela­tions with her sis­ter, Joan Fontaine. And of course Gone With The Wind came up. I no longer have a tran­script of the inter­view, but I do have the fin­ished art­icle. I struc­tured the piece so that my ques­tions were not included (I rather enjoy this ana­chron­ist­ic prac­tice, par­tic­u­larly when more and more these days when I read inter­views with per­formers and dir­ect­ors the ques­tions are longer, more tor­tured, and more self-important than the answers), and so, Miss De Havilland’s thoughts about the movie appear as below, in the art­icle under a sub­head of the film’s title. 

The movie has uni­ver­sal appeal for not only indi­vidu­als but for whole nations. I got let­ters from every coun­try in the worlds. All coun­tries have exper­i­enced war and defeat. And sur­viv­al. They can identi­fy with that film for, I think, that reas­on. Whole pop­u­la­tions know what it’s like to flee. And then of course indi­vidu­als, their lives go through great crises and events and dis­ap­point­ments and worse than that.

The film was beau­ti­fully cast. It’s a most remark­able job of cast­ing. Vivien, espe­cially. Perfect, per­fect, per­fect. Clark was per­fect, per­fect. Prissy [Butterfly McQueen] was per­fect. All of the others.

It was an immense respons­ib­il­ity for the dif­fer­ent act­ors. Especially for Clark. Because he had to match in the film the read­ers’ impres­sion, image, of Rhett Butler. And his career was at stake. And, well—he matched the image, didn’t he?

I just loved the char­ac­ter of Melanie. And had won­der­ful help, both from George Cukor and from [dir­ect­or] Victor Fleming in devel­op­ing the char­ac­ter. She was such a lov­ing per­son. Of course, to play a lov­ing per­son well, you become lov­ing. And you become happy. I think lov­ing people are happy people. Scarlett did not have that hap­pi­ness. She had oth­er emo­tions, but I don’t think she had hap­pi­ness. Melanie did. So she was a beloved char­ac­ter and one that blessed me dur­ing those six months of play­ing her. 

As I men­tioned, I don’t have the tran­script so I can­’t tell you what my ques­tion was, but I still do recall, vividly, how dis­armed and sur­prised I was when she began talk­ing about the film from the per­spect­ive of countries/populations exper­i­en­cing war and defeat. And I thought, in all hon­esty, that her per­spect­ive was inter­est­ing and legit­im­ate, and it helped me look in the movie in a new way, because for a very long time I con­sidered it a movie about how awe­some plant­a­tions were, and as awe­some as they looked in the film, designed as they were by the great William Cameron Menzies, I took some excep­tion to that view. 

And of course Gone With The Wind is about more than how awe­some plant­a­tions were, and it is about what De Havilland was talk­ing about, and I was happy to, when I brought up the film, let her take the con­ver­sa­tion­al reins. I declined to inter­ject, “But racism!”

One the one hand, this argu­ably makes me a bad journ­al­ist. On the oth­er hand, why should I, in the con­text of an inter­view meant to con­sti­tute a career ret­ro­spect­ive, hold De Havilland respons­ible, or answer­able, for what was/is in fact a sys­tem­ic con­cern? I mean, quite a few of the people respons­ible for adapt­ing Margaret Mitchell’s Pulitzer-Prize-winning (yes it did!) nov­el to the screen were not un-progressive in their polit­ics, at least for their time. David O. Selznick might have been a garden-variety Yankee racist in his every­day life but he did not advoc­ate slavery. George Cukor was a gay man. The racial polit­ics of both the film itself and the people who made it are delved into in rev­el­at­ory detail in a 1999 Atlantic art­icle by Leonard J. Leff that I recom­mend highly. 

I, for one, have no desire to pro­duce any anti-Negro film,” Leff quotes Selznick, in a memo to screen­writer Sidney Howard. I have no doubt that Selznick was sin­cere. But, not to be a kind of socio/psychotherapist, that state­ment also under­scores how poorly Selznick under­stood whatever racism he him­self har­bored. Because there’s no doubt that Gone With The Wind is a racist film. It does­n’t merely put forth “unfor­tu­nate racial atti­tudes” (and what a very caucasi­an phrase that is), racism is in its DNA. It is not a dif­fi­cult point to under­stand. Try a thought exper­i­ment: were you to under­take a remake of Gone With The Wind that would expunge the mater­i­al of its racist con­tent, how would you go about doing it? Well, easy, right: first thing you’d do is take it out of the ante­bel­lum South. Oh wait. 

 As Claudia Rankine points out in a recent New York Times Magazine essay, “Anti-black racism is in the cul­ture. It’s in our laws, in our advert­ise­ments, in our friend­ships, in our segreg­ated cit­ies, in our schools, in our Congress, in our sci­entif­ic exper­i­ments, in our lan­guage, on the Internet, in our bod­ies no mat­ter our race, in our com­munit­ies and, per­haps most dev­ast­at­ingly, in our justice sys­tem.” It is quite expli­citly on dis­play through­out Gone With The Wind, in ways, as Leff’s art­icle demon­strates, that its film­makers were some­how com­pletely unaware of. But to acknow­ledge that it’s a racist film makes many, many people uncom­fort­able. Which one could take as an indic­a­tion of the way racism is so deeply ingrained in the white American char­ac­ter. I allow that people can have a mean­ing­ful rela­tion­ship with Gone With The Wind either in spite of or without acknow­ledging its racism. But to use weasel phrases like “unfor­tu­nate racial atti­tudes” instead of “racism” is pure nonsense. 

I bring all this up, of course, because my friend Lou Lumenick recently turned some heads with his brief essay in the New York Post sug­gest­ing that Gone With The Wind ought not enjoy pop cul­ture pan­theon priv­ilege. Reading the piece now, it looks quite a bit milder than its many detract­ors are mak­ing it out to be; in the time-tested tra­di­tion of Salon think pieces, it asks why “we” con­tin­ue to embrace GWTW while deplor­ing the Confederate flag. And then it says “maybe” the movie’s best off releg­ated to museums rather than reg­u­lar theat­ers for its 75th anniversary. And for that “maybe” Lou gets called a Nazi! Whoa!

I actu­ally don’t agree entirely with Lou. And I’ve long pondered the fact that in some corners Gone With The Wind gets the conventional-wisdom cul­tur­al pass that Birth Of A Nation does­n’t, merely on the unstated grounds that GWTW’s racism is argu­ably less virulent/more “benign” than Nation’s. How vir­u­lent does your racism have to be before you recog­nize it as racism, I won­der? Because, you know,  Hattie McDaniels’ Mammie turned out to be the best friend Scarlett ever really had, even if Scarlett was too Scarletty to know it. As if Mammie had any choice in the mat­ter of her asso­ci­ation with Scarlett. “Unfortunate,” you betcha. 

So one may well be befuddles by the fact that cul­tur­al atti­tudes with respect to Gone With The Wind haven’t caught up with those on Nation, but the answer to the ques­tion it brings up should be blind­ingly obvi­ous: The ostens­ible Post-Racial Society is a contrivance. 

And I was­n’t going to make Olivia De Havilland my poster child for that. Première was­n’t The New Inquiry. As for the cur­rent Wind con­cern, I’m not really with what people think Lou said. I think it should be shown every­where that people want to see it.  I think the secret­ive, stub­born self-censorship that Disney executes on its objec­tion­able con­tent of past years is craven and shame­ful and I much prefer Warners’ prac­tice of put­ting an inform­at­ive dis­claim­er at the front of the con­tent in ques­tion. That said, there has to be a cast of mind in which one can admire Gone With The Wind’s por­tray­als of suf­fer­ing, and of good­ness, and of petu­lance, and of per­sever­ance, while acknow­ledging, with eyes wide open, that the engine on which its story runs is at least par­tially powered by a par­tic­u­lar kind of hatred. 

No Comments

  • Farran Nehme says:

    I don’t know if you’ve read the book, Glenn, but I have, more than once, and read­ing it can leave you in no doubt how much Selznick (and Sidney Howard and uncred­ited Ben Hecht) very delib­er­ately cut out when it came to Mitchell’s racial atti­tudes and politics.

  • Glenn Kenny says:

    I should have made clear in the post that I’m no “Gone With The Wind” schol­ar and have not read the book. Leff’s art­icle, and Selznick’s memos, do indeed shed a lot of light of how much racism got taken out of book for the movie. And I think the efforts of Selznick and Howard and Hecht were com­mend­able. But after the three gen­tle­men per­formed their edits, what they were left with has ele­ments that are still pretty tough to reck­on with.

  • other mike says:

    I watched Gone With The Wind for the first time in my life this week­end, mostly because of the con­ver­sa­tion around the film kicked off by Lou Lumenick. Can I just say Clark Gable was fant­ast­ic, he cracked me up with his banter. Scarlet was an out and out night­mare. I damn near cried with joy when Gable told her he did­nt give a damn. should have got an oscar for that alone. Olivia De Haviland was great as well. She was just so eleg­ant and grace­ful with her personality.
    As for the racial stuff I mean, just the writ­ten inter­ludes alone let you know how ret­ro­grade the ideas about race in this film were. Its out and out racism, sys­tem­ic etc. Happy slaves? give me a break. One scene they had some slaves rejoicing at the return­ing con­fed­er­ate sol­diers. They were lit­er­ally cheer­ing their own enslavement.
    Had mixed feel­ings on the black char­ac­ters. The roles were very demean­ing to me, but at the same time, I felt for them that this was lit­er­ally what was on offer for them as act­ors. And who am i to nit­pick their decision to par­take at that very dif­fernt time, with its own norms and com­prom­ises to consider?

  • Kurzleg says:

    Thanks for this post. I have a copy of GWTW my wife picked up that just sits on the shelf in part because I don’t care to see the racism embed­ded in the story. I feel as if Ms. De Havilland has giv­en me per­mis­sion to view it now with a fresh set of eyes. I’ll prob­ably have the same reac­tions that oth­er mike lists above, but it’ll be inter­est­ing to see if De Havilland’s take on the film has any resonance.

  • La Faustin says:

    Claudia Pierpont Roth wrote a won­der­ful art­icle on the book (“A Study in Scarlett, NEW YORKER, August 31, 1992) with some lines that chime well with De Havilland’s thoughts:
    “Vom Winde Verzeht” had sold over three hun­dred and sixty thou­sand cop­ies by 1941, at which time its mes­sage was revealed to the Nazi gov­ern­ment as so mer­cur­i­al, its value as pro­pa­ganda so unre­li­able, that it was sud­denly banned. The Germans, after allow­ing the book to appear in occu­pied coun­tries, had dis­covered that they were not the only ones to identi­fy with the rebels in gray who would not accept defeat. Mitchell received reports that her book was serving as “a great mor­ale build­er” in those coun­tries, and that, as she wrote to her pub­lish­er, “occu­pied nations iden­ti­fied them­selves with the South dur­ing Reconstruction, iden­ti­fied the Ku Klux Klan with the forces of the Resistance, and were heartened by the thought that the South even­tu­ally got back its own state governments.”

  • La Faustin says:

    That would be Claudia Roth Pierpont. (Jeez.)

  • george says:

    The nov­el uses the N‑word almost as often as a Quentin Tarantino screen­play. Selznick made very clear to Howard and Hecht that he did­n’t want that word in the movie.
    Griffith also toned down the racism of his source mater­i­al for BIRTH OF A NATION. It’s still a racist movie, but the Thomas Dixon nov­els – my God! You can still find century-old cop­ies of “The Clansman” and “The Leopard’s Spots” in used book stores. Almost every page seethes with hatred of black people and lec­tures on their inferi­or­ity. It’s truly appalling stuff.

  • Angela D. says:

    So you don’t like Scarlett…
    It humors me how very very much Gable’s char­ac­ter of Rhett is giv­en a pass. Rhett Butler played both sides against the middle, the middle being a huge pot of cash in regards to the war or the women in his life. Rhett is not the “mor­al guy” and Scarlett is not the witch. Scarlett is 16 at the start of the film. If any­body takes 5 minutes in any giv­en high school, you will find a ver­sion of Scarlett walk­ing down the hall in just about every girl. I’m shocked by people who “eww” to Scarlett but will cheer on most of what is put out by Hollywood today.
    Misunderstanding race in Hollywood in the 1930s…
    Given that even Hollywood was segreg­ated (the Ambassador Hotel where the Academy Awards were held in 1940 was a whites only hotel and Selznick made a spe­cial request for Hattie to attend the cere­mony) and giv­en that Selznick was film pro­du­cer, liv­ing in his own world of all white, all male stu­dio exec­ut­ives, no he prob­ably did­n’t “get” the black exper­i­ence as you seem to expect him to. He prob­ably did­n’t get the “con­trac­ted act­or” exper­i­ence that Olivia sued Warner Brothers over. Both Kay Brown and George Cukor were sent to Atlanta to rep­res­ent him in all the vari­ous nego­ti­ations because he did­n’t get “The South” either. That being said, he was­n’t unfa­mil­i­ar with per­se­cu­tion as his fam­ily had fled Russia and being Jewish he was quite aware of what was going on. Today, Selznick is honored by the Producers Guild of America through their Annual David O. Selznick Award.
    For Hattie McDaniel, her exper­i­ence of being excluded because of race in California exten­ded all the way to her grave. She wanted to be bur­ied in Hollywood Forever cemetery, but could not because of her race. It was only some time after her passing that they erec­ted a mark­er at Hollywood Forever in hon­or of Hattie. Hattie was involved in a law­suit over hous­ing prac­tices that kept her from buy­ing the home and prop­erty she wanted.
    Just this week people have writ­ten that de Havilland was angry that she lost to a woman of col­or. At 23, and on her first nom­in­a­tion in the biggest film role of her career after play­ing the per­petu­al ingénue at Warners, both before and after GWTW, she was under­stand­ably upset for hav­ing lost the Oscar, peri­od. Gable was so upset on his loss that he told Carole Lombard it would nev­er hap­pen again. You can­’t find pho­tos of Gable on Oscar night 1940, he’s not in the his­tor­ic­al reels of film from that night. I don’t think he actu­ally went and most people who write and study Gable don’t think he made it to or made it through the cere­mony because he lost. His feel­ings were really no dif­fer­ent than de Havilland’s on that night. Selznick even opined about Gable los­ing, even after he received the Irving Thalberg Award. Since the LA times prin­ted the win­ners in advance of the cere­mony begin­ning, the attendees knew ahead of time who won.
    Gone With the Wind means dif­fer­ent things to dif­fer­ent people…
    What de Havilland said to you was cor­rect, it is a uni­ver­sal film with uni­ver­sal themes of sur­viv­al. It is not a doc­u­ment­ary on slavery in the South, but it does ori­gin­ate with truths of war, star­va­tion, destruc­tion, life, and death, espe­cially as they face women. I wrote a blog in response to Lou’s pro­pos­al of essen­tially pulling all screen­ings and pulling GWTW out of pub­lic mar­ket. In that blog, I pulled togeth­er just a few ref­er­ences of GWTW being seen, read, or used around the world:
    “Gone With the Wind” means many things to many people in the United States and all around the world. One only needs to look at the recent and wildly pop­u­lar “Gone With the Wind” stage pro­duc­tion in Seoul, South Korea to see its pop­ular­ity is shared glob­ally. In 2013, the British flocked to theat­ers to see “Gone With the Wind” in a huge nation­al re-release event that coin­cided with the 100th birth­day of Vivien Leigh. The re-release was so pop­u­lar that the num­ber of theat­ers par­ti­cip­at­ing was expan­ded and the run was exten­ded to over 4 months. In a rare 2014 screen­ing event in Ireland, “Gone With the Wind” was shown to audi­ences in its entirety, after being cen­sored and cut in 13 places by the cen­sor­ship board upon its ori­gin­al release. North Koreans have even found a con­nec­tion to “Gone With the Wind” as recently as 2012 and in 2015 “Gone With the Wind” was a selec­tion for the Shanghai film festival…
    Just last night, I found it will be screened in Delhi, India as part of the Jagran Film Festival on July 1–5.
    Does Gone With the Wind have flaws? Yes,. But I don’t think it has to be ripped apart and ana­lyzed every time it comes up. We don’t have the bene­fit of see­ing the destruc­tion that Margaret Mitchell saw as a young girl from the war, that was still vis­ible near her. We expect Mitchell to tell every­one’s story and be all things to all people then and now. It’s ridicu­lous. Somehow along the way, we’ve come to expect san­it­ized views of everything to fall in line in book and film with approved expect­a­tions in the 21st cen­tury. I am shocked that aca­dem­ic “twit­ter parties” are now pop­u­lar with high school and col­lege stu­dents who are lit­er­ally watch­ing GWTW to fault every scene for racism and lack of “his­tor­ic­al accur­acy” and tweet their answers back to their teach­er and/or pro­fess­or. Nothing says there’s only one approved per­spect­ive on this film like telling the kids to tweet their responses on GWTW. “Look Racism” and “eww that’s not his­tor­ic­ally accur­ate” works well for twit­ter. I don’t think every time we dis­cuss Gone With the Wind has to be in some con­text as described by a third party to make sure it is viewed in the “right” way and just because I view GWTW in the light as described by De Havilland does­n’t mean I don’t under­stand oth­er points of view in art, film, lit­er­at­ure and history.
    You can vis­it my blog in response to the NY post art­icle at http://tinyurl.com/pak433t
    You can vis­it my web­sites at http://www.gwtwshowtimes.com and http://www.oliviadehavillandonline.com

  • george says:

    I’m all for remov­ing Confederate flags from state cap­it­ols and oth­er gov­ern­ment build­ings. But what Lou L. is call­ing for is cen­sor­ship of a work of art. All for the best reas­ons, of course, as all cen­sors see their actions.
    Where will this end? Will we even­tu­ally ban or des­troy all cop­ies of GWTW, BIRTH OF A NATION and SONG OF THE SOUTH because many people are offen­ded by their depic­tions of African Americans and the Old South? (Disney has done a good job of bury­ing SONG in their vaults.)
    What about those old car­toons and music­als with black­face num­bers, and the ’30s com­ed­ies with “darky” humor? Should we boy­cott TCM for show­ing them?
    How about Clint Eastwood’s por­tray­al of a hero­ic Confederate “raid­er” in THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES? Isn’t that offens­ive to all right-thinking people?
    Should we digit­ally erase the rebel flag license plate from Burt Reynolds’ car in SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT? (And does­n’t the car’s horn play the first notes of “Dixie”?)
    And what about Ron Howard’s cap in EAT MY DUST? Why haven’t Howard and pro­du­cer Roger Corman apo­lo­gized for this affront?
    http://www.imdb.com/media/rm859872256/tt0074454?ref_=tt_pv_md_2
    When you start sup­press­ing things, it can be hard to stop. And lib­er­als can enjoy sup­pres­sion (cen­sor­ship) as much as any right-wingers. Just look at Dr. Fredric Wertham, the lib­er­al psy­chi­at­rist with a free clin­ic in Harlem, who led the anti-comic book cru­sade of the ’50s.

  • Yes, racism and nos­tal­gia for slavery is built into Gone With the Wind. Pretty much the first scene is set up to show us that the slaves are happy and have their own hier­archy. Also, the hero rapes the heroine.
    Admitting that, though is only the start of fig­ur­ing out what that movie means to people. For one thing, as De Havilland says, it’s about find­ing mean­ing in being on the los­ing side of a bru­tal war where your way of life is wiped out. The fact that the South brought it on them­selves – as the movie admits – does­n’t change the fact that that’s mean­ing­ful. It’s like The Third Man or oth­er stor­ies about Axis coun­tries after World War II. Or for that mat­ter, a movie like Das Boot. The cause they fought for can be hor­rible, but the story can still have uni­ver­sal appeal.
    The pre-war South por­trayed in Gone With the Wind had also, by then, become America’s own chiv­al­ric myth – not just the South’s, but all of America’s. America’s found­ing myths don’t go back very far, and the Pilgrims are, let’s face it, bor­ing as hell to look at in a movie. So the South became America’s ver­sion of Arthurian times, a time when chiv­alry ruled and people were glam­or­ous. In both cases, as Dennis the Peasant would point out, the myth obscures the viol­ence inher­ent in the sys­tem. But every­one has their chiv­al­ric myth­o­logy, and the fact that the South con­sciously modeled itself on Sir Walter Scott’s nov­els of chiv­alry (as Mark Twain dis­gustedly poin­ted out) made it a nat­ur­al for myth-making. People around the world walked out of Gone With the Wind with a sense that their world – the cap­it­al­ist­ic world that Scarlett O’Hara was so good at exploit­ing – is soul­less and hard and nasty. That’s myth-making for you.
    But to just wag our fin­ger at the people who watch the movie, as Lumenick does, is to fall into the crit­ic’s fal­lacy of wor­ry­ing that oth­er people are get­ting the wrong mes­sage from a pic­ture. What does the movie make Lumenick think about the way we roman­ti­cize the past? The fact that the movie’s typ­ic­ally 1939 sus­pi­cion of cap­it­al­ism is linked to a nos­tal­gia for a racist, oppress­ive past – how does that jumble of ideas strike us? This is a lot more com­plic­ated than just shud­der­ing at the pos­sib­il­ity that the bad people out there are learn­ing to be bad­der because of some movie.

  • andy says:

    I had a his­tory teach­er in high school (AP his­tory, no less!) who openly acknow­ledged being racist (before sev­er­al black stu­dents as well, one of whom wore white gloves in anoth­er vestigal rem­nant of the Old South), because “that’s the way I was raised and I can­’t change that now.” This was just out­side of Atlanta, in the lat­ter eighties. She showed GWTW uncrit­ic­ally in our his­tory class, before even­tu­ally assign­ing us our big pro­ject for the quarter, a “his­tio­graphy” (which to her appar­ently meant “paper writ­ten on his­tor­ic­al epis­ode”) ana­lyz­ing the causes of the Civil War, which she warned us could NOT include slavery, bc that was not a cause.
    I used to love GWTW when I was a kid (first saw it in the glor­i­ous Fox down­town), and I’m afraid I loved to run around say­ing that I did­n’t know noth­ing about birth­ing no babies, to the delight of all the adults, in my best Hattie voice. I had­n’t seen it since my youth­ful naïveté, and there was nev­er dis­cus­sion of it crit­ic­ally in Atlanta, but based on my memor­ies of it alone I knew it was tox­ic garbage when she announced she would be show­ing it in class, and was appalled. The show­ing con­firmed this. Speaking out would have been point­less. I grew up with “The South Will Rise Again” truck­er hats being sold in con­veni­ence stores. Some time after the AP History show­ing, Ted Turner star­ted show­ing GWTW daily at his out­fit down­town. Like so much else in the south then, it was all just a set of atmo­sphere and atti­tudes to be endured.
    The quick turn­around on the flag has shocked me (I wrote a no-brainer edit­or­i­al for the HS paper advoc­at­ing for its remov­al back then), even if I think it has res­ul­ted in over­reach. Banning items from EBay is wrong. And I don’t think you even need a dis­claim­er in front of GWTW to show it in nor­mal theaters…time and soci­et­al matur­ity (go ahead and laugh) is provid­ing fit con­text enough.

  • andy says:

    BTW, the town out­side of Atlanta I am from is Stone Mountain. I only found out a year or two ago that the “shoutout” we get at the end of King’s Dream speech is not mad props to a place he liked but a ref­er­ence to Stone Mountain itself as the rebirth place of the KKK after a peri­od of dormancy. Somehow, when I was grow­ing up, that nev­er came up, though I knew they were around and held ral­lies from time to time.

  • LizLou says:

    Oh my good­ness, Selznick was Jewish! Nobody will ever con­vince me he was a racist! I know NO racists who are Jewish, in fact as a people I find them to be quite the opposite!

  • jbryant says:

    Great post, Jaime Weinman.
    Thinking about all this GWTW brouhaha anew, makes me think the answer is obvi­ous. Rather than releg­at­ing the film to museums and urging the copy­right hold­ers to back off of their mar­ket­ing, it should be screened and dis­cussed even MORE than usu­al. The film made his­tory, and it IS his­tory. History is full of uncom­fort­able truths, and we all know what Santayana said about for­get­ting our his­tory. GWTW’s pop­ular­ity and influ­ence say some­thing about our coun­try that should be stud­ied and explored, not swept under the rug.
    The big catch, I guess, is that in our cur­rent cli­mate of trig­ger warn­ings and “prob­lem­at­ic” opin­ions, it might not be pos­sible to have con­struct­ive, mean­ing­ful debate about the issues GWTW raises without res­ult­ing in fist­icuffs and law­suits. So, I dunno, nev­er mind.

  • Joel Bocko says:

    I missed Lemenick’s op-ed but I’ve been won­der­ing when this would come up. Shortly after the whole Confederate flag debate re-ignited I searched for “Confederate flag” + “Gone with the Wind” or “Gone with the Wind” + “racist” on Twitter and was sur­prised to find very few res­ults – maybe only 1 in the after­math of Roof’s shoot­ing. Most were in rela­tion to a white artist who tweeted pas­sages of the book as an art pro­ject. Rather strangely, she was con­demned for racism/appropriation and dis­so­ci­ated from the institue she worked with while the book (and film) itself con­tin­ues to be unprob­lem­at­ic­ally cel­eb­rated which speaks to the schiz­oid phe­nomen­on you are noting.
    The GWTW cul­tur­al phe­nomen­on, which per­sists very strongly to this day, is kind of odd duck giv­en how ana­chron­ist­ic its val­ues are, or rather how expli­citly rejec­ted they are (Casablanca’s val­ues are a bit ana­chron­ist­ic too, but less because people have turned on them and more because people have moved onto oth­er things for bet­ter or – prob­ably – worse). You DON’T hear its racism dis­cussed all that much. Actually I’ve noticed that cinephil­ia does­n’t seem to have as much of a call-out cul­ture as TV, video games, com­ics etc, or even con­tem­por­ary film-viewing (for­give me, I think that’s a good thing, and it’s due at least in part to clas­sic film being – obvi­ously – an older medi­um and hav­ing already exper­i­enced a lot of dig­ging into dark­er past). But that’s anoth­er story.
    You bring up Birth of a Nation as a not­able con­trast. I remem­ber actu­ally dis­cuss­ing that on this blog once, point­ing out that the films make an inter­est­ing pair. Clearly, Birth is the most despic­ably racist of the films but in a com­pletely inad­vert­ent way, it’s also the more hon­or­able. Its pre­ju­dice is so trans­par­ent that watch­ing the film forces the view­er to con­front just how ugly America’s his­tory – and movie his­tory – can be. The films doubles not only as a recruit­ment poster for the KKK but Hollywood’s first mega-blockbuster as well as a brilliantly-realized aes­thet­ic break­through, and not just for the obvi­ous larger-than-life aspects but the subtle hand­ling of com­pos­i­tion, per­form­ance, etc. But there is no way to watch the second half of that film and not be vis­cer­ally appalled.
    Gone with the Wind, on the oth­er hand, sug­ar­coats its racism, mak­ing it more pal­at­able and in that sense it is much more per­ni­cious. In a mil­lion cutesy, wink­ing, sneaky ways (haven’t read the Atlantic art­icle yet but I’m sure it will point out quite a few of these) it gets us cozy with its premise – Prissy may go too far for mod­ern audi­ences, and the blatant Confederate flag-waving scenes may make us wince, but by and large the shuff­ling, shuck­ing slaves get their laughter, the breath­tak­ing shots of Tara trig­ger long­ing for a roman­ti­cized way of life “gone with the wind,” and mod­ern view­ers will be inclined to cel­eb­rate Scarlett as a fem­in­ist hero rather than a racist elit­ist. At least that was my exper­i­ence watch­ing the film with a (Northern) audi­ence in 2009 – although one mem­ber did leav­ing mut­ter­ing, “I had the feel­ing the good guys were off­screen for the whole movie…”
    Now that said, I do think Gone with the Wind is a great movie; partly because a movie can be great even if its val­ues are abhor­rent, partly because not all of GWTW’s val­ues are abhor­rent. As someone some­where recently poin­ted out (can­’t remem­ber the con­text, but it was admit­tedly more about the book) the story is actu­ally pretty weary/skeptical of the rosy-eyed Confederate cause – more from a real­ist basis than a human­ist one, but that’s some­thing. Hattie McDaniel deservedly won the Oscar bring­ing human­ity and depth to a ste­reo­typ­ic­al part, and the film’s her­oes aren’t quite her­oes at all, both Rhett and Scarlett are scoun­drels and they more or less know it. If Birth of a Nation acci­dent­ally achieves a sub­vers­ive qual­ity due to its naked­ness, Gone with the Wind is the more inten­tion­ally mature film and it def­in­itely mixes its dol­lops of gauzy Confederate roman­ti­cism with a more clear-eyed view of how vain and delu­sion­al the whole enter­prise is (even if it does not stretch this under­stand­ing to embrace slavery, the cent­ral ten­et of that enterprise).
    To the ques­tion of wheth­er GwtW should be shown and/or cel­eb­rated vs. shunned and con­demned, I’d like to think we can both cel­eb­rate and con­demn without shun­ning – indeed, show­ing is the only real way to spur such con­ver­sa­tions. Agreed about Disney’s Song of the South. It’s a weirdly evas­ive movie (although it’s worth point­ing out that it seems to be set in post-slavery rather than ante­bel­lum times, not that Uncle Remus-the-sharecropper would be able to leave the plant­a­tion much easi­er than Uncle Remus-the-slave). But I’m not sure it can be flat-out called “racist” (the way Gone with the Wind cer­tainly can), although maybe I’m wrong about that. Also re: Disney on race, sad to say, but the cliched (and hor­ribly named) but likable, wise, and help­ful crows in Dumbo are one of the more pos­it­ive depic­tions I’ve seen of black cul­ture in pre­war Hollywood. Just com­pare that to say, the cringe­worthy white­face gag in the same year’s Sullivan’s Travels to see what I mean.
    On anoth­er note entirely, I’m just happy to see Olivia de Havilland has­n’t passed away, which was what I ini­tially expec­ted when click­ing on this link. She will 100 in a year and one day!

  • george says:

    I like Roger Ebert’s com­ment on BIRTH OF A NATION, in his “Great Movies” essay: the movie shows how, a cen­tury ago, it was pos­sible to be racist without even know­ing you were racist. Griffith appar­ently thought of him­self as a pro­gress­ive. And maybe on some issues, he was.
    But his racial atti­tudes were instilled at a very young age. They were so second-nature he seems not to have been aware there was any­thing wrong with those attitudes.
    Still, I don’t want BIRTH banned or removed from cir­cu­la­tion. If we start cen­sor­ing movies from the past that don’t jibe with cur­rent atti­tudes about race, gender and/or sexu­al ori­ent­a­tion, there won’t be much from the past we can watch.

  • Asher says:

    I mean, quite a few of the people respons­ible for adapt­ing Margaret Mitchell’s Pulitzer-Prize-winning (yes it did!) nov­el to the screen were not un-progressive in their polit­ics, at least for their time… George Cukor was a gay man.”
    Doesn’t neces­sar­ily make Cukor “not un-progressive in [his] polit­ics, at least for [his] time.” Although I sus­pect you’re right.

  • george says:

    We’re too depressed over the Dissolve fold­ing to post any com­ments now.

  • Joseph Angier says:

    Glenn, I think Birth of a Nation gets a com­par­at­ive pass for one simple reas­on: Not that many people have seen it, espe­cially com­pared to a behemoth like GWTW. Also, GWTW was based on a book that was a mam­moth best­seller that’s still in print and still embraced. You’d be hard pressed to find any Dixon works on your library/bookstore/Amazon shelves.

  • george says:

    You’d be hard pressed to find any Dixon works on your library/bookstore/Amazon shelves.”
    Actually, you can find many edi­tions of Dixon’s books at Amazon.
    http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_12?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=thomas+dixon&sprefix=thomas+Dixon%2Cstripbooks%2C131
    To quote an Amazon review­er, “The Clansman” is: “A won­der­ful work of his­tory! It’s his­tory at it’s truest point. A very edu­ca­tion­al read.”
    Sigh.