In an examination of the United States following the Civil War, Gone with the Wind explores how different walks of life were affected, focusing on the lives of plantation-owners as they adjust to a world without slavery. Victor Fleming's 1939 classic follows capricious Southern belle Scarlett O'Hara as she navigates her life and relationships during the Civil War and subsequent Reconstruction. Scarlett insinuates herself in the lives of several men throughout this time, including the honorable and earnest Ashley Wilkes, the respectable Frank Kennedy, and the charismatic, wealthy and dishonest Rhett Butler. Scarlett ruins her marriages with Frank and Rhett due to her unrequited love for Ashley. Scarlett clings onto the Confederate South - clings onto Ashley - as her world is upended. The war leaves Tara, the O'Hara plantation, in shambles, and the family itself disoriented and stricken with poverty. The film is - on its surface - a tale of survival in the face of difficulty and uncertainty. Gone with the Wind is no stranger to censure; the film has long been criticized for its alleged romanticization of the antebellum South. After all, the film takes a look at the Civil War and Reconstruction through the lens of an affluent family in the South who has slavery to thank for their riches. But even though Scarlett is the protagonist, she is not meant to be seen as likable and only sympathetic to an extent.
Victor Fleming was born in La Cañada Flintridge, California. Fleming worked as a mechanic before meeting director Allan Dwan. Dwan gave Fleming a job as a camera assistant - his first foray into the film industry. Having worked with Clark Gable in Red Dust in 1932, and Test Pilot a year earlier, and having directed a screenplay written by David O. Selznick in 1935, the masculine and abrasive Fleming was set to replace the openly-gay and sensitive George Cukor on the films Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz. Cukor was originally brought in to replace director Richard Thorpe on the latter, only to leave soon thereafter to fulfill prior commitments on the former. Fleming was then brought in to finish The Wizard of Oz. According to the producer, David O. Selznick, Cukor was fired as his sexuality prevented him from directing the love scenes between Rhett and Scarlett. Fleming was then brought in to finish Gone with the Wind. The premiere was held in Atlanta, Georgia, on December 15, 1939. African-American members of the cast and crew - namely Hattie McDaniel, who played Mammy - were prohibited from attendance in accordance with the Jim Crow laws of the time. Fleming deliberated chose not to attend the premiere, attributing it to a falling out he had with Selznick.
Scarlett is a deeply flawed and very human character. She will never be happy because she will always be drawn to what she can't have. Even after the war and her poverty, she is still inexplicably infatuated with Ashley. It is only until Mellie dies and begs Scarlett to take care of Ashley that she shifts her obsession to Rhett. Even if she was successfully able to repair her relationship with Rhett, she would simply no longer desire him. Scarlett is clinging so closely to the past that she is wholly motivated by the restoration of the Confederate South. The themes of survival are more accurately of self-preservation; insisting that the filmmakers are condoning slavery would be to imply that they're condoning Scarlett's deplorable behavior. The purported claim that the film glamorizes the Confederate South is merely an act of misconstruing the film's condemnation of its protagonist, and a broader critique of humanity as a whole. Historically, humanity has not demonstrated a penchant for change. We invariably hold on tightly to what we know, and for Scarlett, that happens to be the antiquated ideologies of the South. The Civil War signaled the end of an era, and Scarlett is being left behind. Her own greed causes her to alienate herself from everyone in her life; for her, manipulation is intrinsic. Despite being marketed as a straightforward romance set against the backdrop of the Civil War, Gone with the Wind takes a complex look at two people who frankly despise each other. Scarlett and Rhett gnaw at each other to fuel their own self-destructive impulses.
There's a telling scene involving Scarlett and Ashley. Scarlett has just purchased a fistful of African-American prisoners to work at the mill for - as she puts it - "dirt cheap." Both are made aware of the poor treatment that the men would undergo while working at the mill. Ashley feels conflicted; his honor won't allow him to knowingly subject these individuals to exceedingly cruel conditions just to save a few dollars. Scarlett, on the other hand, takes no issue with the arrangement. Having been raised on a plantation, she has grown accustomed to the use of slaves and doesn't view it as a moral dilemma. Again, she is sticking to what she knows, and - at least from per point of view - slavery had never been a question of ethics before. Money - she learns - is the most important thing in the world, and she doesn't intend to live without it. It's this rapacity that makes her a reprehensible figure. Of himself and Scarlett, Rhett says, "We're not gentlemen and we have no honor." Indeed, these characters are able to accumulate vast amounts of wealth - all possible because they are not well intentioned - because they do not have honor. This notion has been demonstrated throughout history; people succeed thanks to their disregard for the sanctity of human life. But the earnest and honorable Mellie struggles to make ends meet, ultimately leaving little behind upon her death. It's not too much of a stretch to suggest that Ashley would suffer the same fate.
Scarlett is portrayed as a manipulative, rapacious, and downright deplorable character with an equally dishonorable fondness for the pre-war South. Scarlett first marries Charles Hamilton to get back at Ashley, and later her sister's beloved Frank Kennedy in an attempt to save Tara. She is left apathetic following their respective demises - only concerned for her own well-being. To actress Vivien Leigh's dismay, Victor Fleming had no interest in presenting the character as sympathetic. Fleming understood that the ideologies this character grasps onto are representative of the old South before the war, and are therefore detestable. The film has been the subject of much criticism - particularly in recent years - for its depiction of African-Americans. After the Union soldiers leave Tara in ruin, the house slaves are all that remain. The end of the Civil War, of course, signified the end of slavery in America. Mammy and Prissy, in particular, decide - on their own volition - to stay with Scarlett after she hits rock bottom; they seem utterly disinterested in liberation. Prissy, namely, has been criticized for her complete lack of intelligence. It would seem, though, that she is merely feigning ignorance; in one scene, the viewer can clearly see her counting down the days until her emancipation. But playing the devil's advocate is not an easy role, seeing as the film contradicts itself by having Prissy choose to remain at Tara. While it would seem that the more or less racist caricatures in the film are untenable, context matters. The film did not receive a wide release until 1940 and was in production years prior. Before then, African-American representation in Hollywood was a shell of what it is today. Gone with the Wind should be commended - at least to some degree - for the audacity to devote this much screen time to the characters played by Hattie McDaniel, Butterfly McQueen and Oscar Polk. One could drone on about how the glorification of the antebellum South is derived from the backgrounds of the filmmakers, but not only did they not have any connection to the South, but the sentiment is objectively untrue. Context matters; yes, Scarlett is a bad person, but the filmmakers aren't trying to convince you otherwise.
In summation, Fleming had made no attempt to make Scarlett appear likable, and throughout the film, makes it abundantly clear that she is a disgraceful character willing to make others suffer for her own gain. Fleming paints Scarlett as a stand-in for the Confederate South - a racist relic of an era that has fortunately ended. Yet she is grounded in reality in a way that enables the viewer to attach themselves to the character; she suffers from many of the same vices as any of us. It would seem that finding yourself in a world that has left you behind is simply a facet of life, and in that way, we can all see a piece of Scarlett in ourselves. Although that may be too scary a notion for some, this is a rewarding film for anyone willing to overlook its shortcomings, and appreciate the point the filmmakers are attempting to make about mankind's inherent aversion to change, and the allure that comes with what we can't have.
Victor Fleming was born in La Cañada Flintridge, California. Fleming worked as a mechanic before meeting director Allan Dwan. Dwan gave Fleming a job as a camera assistant - his first foray into the film industry. Having worked with Clark Gable in Red Dust in 1932, and Test Pilot a year earlier, and having directed a screenplay written by David O. Selznick in 1935, the masculine and abrasive Fleming was set to replace the openly-gay and sensitive George Cukor on the films Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz. Cukor was originally brought in to replace director Richard Thorpe on the latter, only to leave soon thereafter to fulfill prior commitments on the former. Fleming was then brought in to finish The Wizard of Oz. According to the producer, David O. Selznick, Cukor was fired as his sexuality prevented him from directing the love scenes between Rhett and Scarlett. Fleming was then brought in to finish Gone with the Wind. The premiere was held in Atlanta, Georgia, on December 15, 1939. African-American members of the cast and crew - namely Hattie McDaniel, who played Mammy - were prohibited from attendance in accordance with the Jim Crow laws of the time. Fleming deliberated chose not to attend the premiere, attributing it to a falling out he had with Selznick.
Scarlett is a deeply flawed and very human character. She will never be happy because she will always be drawn to what she can't have. Even after the war and her poverty, she is still inexplicably infatuated with Ashley. It is only until Mellie dies and begs Scarlett to take care of Ashley that she shifts her obsession to Rhett. Even if she was successfully able to repair her relationship with Rhett, she would simply no longer desire him. Scarlett is clinging so closely to the past that she is wholly motivated by the restoration of the Confederate South. The themes of survival are more accurately of self-preservation; insisting that the filmmakers are condoning slavery would be to imply that they're condoning Scarlett's deplorable behavior. The purported claim that the film glamorizes the Confederate South is merely an act of misconstruing the film's condemnation of its protagonist, and a broader critique of humanity as a whole. Historically, humanity has not demonstrated a penchant for change. We invariably hold on tightly to what we know, and for Scarlett, that happens to be the antiquated ideologies of the South. The Civil War signaled the end of an era, and Scarlett is being left behind. Her own greed causes her to alienate herself from everyone in her life; for her, manipulation is intrinsic. Despite being marketed as a straightforward romance set against the backdrop of the Civil War, Gone with the Wind takes a complex look at two people who frankly despise each other. Scarlett and Rhett gnaw at each other to fuel their own self-destructive impulses.
There's a telling scene involving Scarlett and Ashley. Scarlett has just purchased a fistful of African-American prisoners to work at the mill for - as she puts it - "dirt cheap." Both are made aware of the poor treatment that the men would undergo while working at the mill. Ashley feels conflicted; his honor won't allow him to knowingly subject these individuals to exceedingly cruel conditions just to save a few dollars. Scarlett, on the other hand, takes no issue with the arrangement. Having been raised on a plantation, she has grown accustomed to the use of slaves and doesn't view it as a moral dilemma. Again, she is sticking to what she knows, and - at least from per point of view - slavery had never been a question of ethics before. Money - she learns - is the most important thing in the world, and she doesn't intend to live without it. It's this rapacity that makes her a reprehensible figure. Of himself and Scarlett, Rhett says, "We're not gentlemen and we have no honor." Indeed, these characters are able to accumulate vast amounts of wealth - all possible because they are not well intentioned - because they do not have honor. This notion has been demonstrated throughout history; people succeed thanks to their disregard for the sanctity of human life. But the earnest and honorable Mellie struggles to make ends meet, ultimately leaving little behind upon her death. It's not too much of a stretch to suggest that Ashley would suffer the same fate.
Scarlett is portrayed as a manipulative, rapacious, and downright deplorable character with an equally dishonorable fondness for the pre-war South. Scarlett first marries Charles Hamilton to get back at Ashley, and later her sister's beloved Frank Kennedy in an attempt to save Tara. She is left apathetic following their respective demises - only concerned for her own well-being. To actress Vivien Leigh's dismay, Victor Fleming had no interest in presenting the character as sympathetic. Fleming understood that the ideologies this character grasps onto are representative of the old South before the war, and are therefore detestable. The film has been the subject of much criticism - particularly in recent years - for its depiction of African-Americans. After the Union soldiers leave Tara in ruin, the house slaves are all that remain. The end of the Civil War, of course, signified the end of slavery in America. Mammy and Prissy, in particular, decide - on their own volition - to stay with Scarlett after she hits rock bottom; they seem utterly disinterested in liberation. Prissy, namely, has been criticized for her complete lack of intelligence. It would seem, though, that she is merely feigning ignorance; in one scene, the viewer can clearly see her counting down the days until her emancipation. But playing the devil's advocate is not an easy role, seeing as the film contradicts itself by having Prissy choose to remain at Tara. While it would seem that the more or less racist caricatures in the film are untenable, context matters. The film did not receive a wide release until 1940 and was in production years prior. Before then, African-American representation in Hollywood was a shell of what it is today. Gone with the Wind should be commended - at least to some degree - for the audacity to devote this much screen time to the characters played by Hattie McDaniel, Butterfly McQueen and Oscar Polk. One could drone on about how the glorification of the antebellum South is derived from the backgrounds of the filmmakers, but not only did they not have any connection to the South, but the sentiment is objectively untrue. Context matters; yes, Scarlett is a bad person, but the filmmakers aren't trying to convince you otherwise.
In summation, Fleming had made no attempt to make Scarlett appear likable, and throughout the film, makes it abundantly clear that she is a disgraceful character willing to make others suffer for her own gain. Fleming paints Scarlett as a stand-in for the Confederate South - a racist relic of an era that has fortunately ended. Yet she is grounded in reality in a way that enables the viewer to attach themselves to the character; she suffers from many of the same vices as any of us. It would seem that finding yourself in a world that has left you behind is simply a facet of life, and in that way, we can all see a piece of Scarlett in ourselves. Although that may be too scary a notion for some, this is a rewarding film for anyone willing to overlook its shortcomings, and appreciate the point the filmmakers are attempting to make about mankind's inherent aversion to change, and the allure that comes with what we can't have.