Category Archives: Hattie McDaniel

#22 Favorite Film, 1939 Films, Best Picture Oscar Winners, Drama, Epic, Favorite Film of the Year, George Cukor, George Reeves, Hattie McDaniel, Jane Darwell, Leslie Howard, Olivia de Havilland, Sam Wood, Thomas Mitchell, Top 100 Films, Top 25 Films, Top 250 Films, Top 50 Films, Victor Fleming, Vivien Leigh

Gone With The Wind-1939

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Gone With The Wind-1939

Director Victor Fleming/George Cukor

Starring Clark Gable, Vivien Leigh, Olivia de Havilland

Top 250 Films #22

Scott’s Review #201

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Reviewed December 4, 2014

Grade: A

Gone with the Wind (1939) is the grand masterpiece of sweeping epic drama.

The film is based on Margaret Mitchell’s best-selling novel. Set in the American South (specifically, Georgia) during the Civil War era, it centers on the life of Scarlett O’Hara, a Southern belle who works on the cotton plantation Tara. After the South loses the war, she struggles to keep her plantation alive.

Initially, Scarlett cares little about the war but enjoys her spoiled, narcissistic lifestyle and romances with many men in the town, all vying for her attention. With all eyes on her, she revels in one sunny picnic and ball after another.

As war decimates the South, Scarlett must take over the plantation and survive the ravages of war.

Mixed in with the war theme is a romance between Scarlett and Rhett, one of cinema’s most recognized and enduring couples. Having gone through three directors (Victor Fleming, George Cukor, and Sam Wood), the film is as extravagant and precise in its style, attention to detail, and set design as films come.

At close to four hours, Gone with the Wind is a lavish production that can take an entire afternoon or evening to watch. It is divided into two halves—interestingly, Cukor directs the first half, and Fleming primarily directs the second.

It is a film that can be viewed and analyzed repeatedly, and the set pieces and flawless perfection alone are worthy of marvel. The first half is superior to the second, but that is like comparing prime rib to filet mignon—it’s a matter of personal preference.

The first half is brighter, cheery, and fantastic. The excellent Tara and neighboring plantation Twin Oaks host southern balls and parties filled with romance, gossip, and beautiful costumes. War is coming, but it is a delightful time of merriment.

The Southerners eagerly embrace the prospect of war, assuming it will last only two weeks and that they will emerge victorious. They party and celebrate.

The second half has a much darker tone.

By the beginning of the second half, Atlanta has burned, thousands of men have died, Tara is decimated, Scarlett’s mother has died, and her father has gone batty.

The rebuilding of the South is explored, the troubled Rhett and Scarlett marriage commences, their daughter dies, and the world-famous line uttered by Rhett to Scarlett, “Frankly my dear…. I don’t give a damn”.

Having been now directed by a different person (Fleming), the first and second halves almost seem like two separate films.

Vivien Leigh plays a beautiful role. In 1939, women were rarely portrayed as strong characters in films, so Gone with the Wind is groundbreaking for its portrayal of female characters.

Scarlett is selfish but rises above, is strong, saves her plantation, and succeeds as a successful businesswoman—almost unheard of in cinema in 1939. Her undying love for Ashley Wilkes but her inability to obtain him (he is married to his cousin Melanie) gives her a sympathetic vulnerability.

Clark Gable, already a massive star and the people’s choice to play Rhett, is charismatic and handsome. The fact that he and Leigh did not get along makes their fights and sexual tension electric. They love but hate each other, which is transmitted on screen.

Rhett is his own man—he defines himself as not a Northerner but not a Southerner. He is a vagabond and spends many nights at the local brothel in the company of Belle Watling. Rhett’s character is independent and strong.

The supporting characters are colorful, lively, and humorous. Aunt Pittypat’s dramatic worrying and smelling salts and Prissy’s insistence on expert childbirth when, in reality, she knows nothing is moments meant to lighten the mood.

Mammie, Scarlett’s mother figure, is a moral, kind, yet tough character. Melanie (Olivia de Havilland) is an even sweeter character, characterized by her caring and selflessness.

Lesser characters, such as Dr. Meade, Suellen, Carreen, India, and Frank Kennedy, serve their purpose and are no throwaways.

It is bothersome that, over the years, Gone with the Wind has been unfairly “feminized” once it began airing as an alternative to the annual Super Bowl. The assumption was that only women would enjoy it, which is silly.

I do not find this film to be a female film, and frankly, some of the battle scenes are pretty masculine, with epic fires and guns galore. Is Gone with the Wind now considered a racist film?

Perhaps so, and time has made the political incorrectness much more glaring- this point can be debated endlessly. Ashley participates in a hooded Klan organization and is portrayed as a hero in the film.

Indeed, throughout the film, the enslaved people are portrayed as happy, kindly, and comfortable with their place in life, vastly different from what transpired. However, Hattie McDaniel (Mammie) won the first-ever Oscar for a black actress, which was monumental progress and influence.

Using seemingly thousands of extras, the war-torn Atlanta scene where the camera rises up and up and up, panning down on hundreds of wounded and dead Union soldiers as Scarlett defeatedly walks among them, is still heartbreaking to watch and is a reminder of the power and destruction that war is.

Gone with the Wind is an epic masterpiece from the past that still holds up remarkably well. The sets, the rich characters, and the costumes can be admired and still inspire today.

Oscar Nominations: 8 wins-Outstanding Production (won), Best Director-Victor Fleming (won), Best Actor-Clark Cable, Best Actress-Vivien Leigh (won), Best Supporting Actress-Hattie McDaniel (won), Olivia de Havilland, Best Screenplay (won), Best Original Score, Best Sound Recording, Best Art Direction (won), Best Cinematography, Color (won), Best Film Editing (won), Best Special Effects

1946 Films, Animated, Bobby Driscoll, Children, Disney, Eric Larson, Harve Foster, Hattie McDaniel, James Baskett, Les Clark, Musical, Musical Drama, Ruth Warrick, Wilfred Jackson

Song of the South-1946

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Song of the South-1946

Director Harve Foster, Wilfred Jackson

Starring James Baskett, Billy Driscoll

Scott’s Review #893

Reviewed May 4, 2019

Grade: B+

Song of the South (1946) is a Walt Disney film buried in the chambers of cinema history, reportedly an embarrassment never too soon forgotten by the legendary producer and his company.

The reason for the ruckus is the numerous overtones of racism that emerge throughout an otherwise darling film.

Admittedly, the film contains a racial cheeriness that cannot be interpreted as anything other than condescension to black folk, and numerous stereotypes abound.

The mysterious appeal of the film during modern times is undoubted because of the surrounding controversies that hopefully can be put aside in favor of a resoundingly positive message and glimmering childlike innocence that resonates throughout the film.

The hybrid choice of live-action and animation is superlative, eliciting a new progressive experience. Given the surrounding controversies, it would be shameful to spoil it.

The film takes place during the Reformation Era in Georgia, the United States of America, a period of American history shortly after the end of the Civil War and the abolition of slavery. It has a pretty Southern flavor and feel.

Seven-year-old Johnny (Bobby Driscoll) is excited to visit his grandmother’s (Lucile Watson) lavish plantation outside of Atlanta along with his mother, Sally (Ruth Warrick), and father (Erik Rolf). He is soon devastated to learn that his father will return to Atlanta for business, leaving Johnny behind.

Johnny plots to run away from the plantation and return to Atlanta but develops a special friendship with kindly Uncle Remus (James Baskett). Uncle Remus enchants the young boy with sentimental lesson stories about Br’er Rabbit and his foils, Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear.

Drama ensues when Johnny feuds with two poor neighbor boys and develops friendships with their sister, Ginny. He also bonds with Toby, a young black boy who lives on the plantation.

Thunderous applause must go to the creative minds who thought of mixing the animations with the live-action drama, resulting in positive and compelling effects.

As Uncle Remus repeatedly embarks on a new story for Johnny to listen to, the audience knows they will be transported into a magical land of make-believe as a precise lesson results from these stories.

Uncle Remus is an inspiring character- it is rare to find a black character written this way in 1946. Often, black characters were reduced to maids, butlers, farmhands, or other servant roles.

While the film does not stray from the course by casting many of these roles, including Uncle Remus himself, his character is different because he is beloved by little Johnny, respected by the grandmother, and treated as part of the family. His opinion counts for something and is not merely dismissed as rubbish.

The musical soundtrack to Song of the South is particularly cheery and easy to hum along to. The most recognizable song is “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” which recurs several times throughout the feature. The best rendition is at the end, when the mix of live-action and animation culminates with the sing-along.

My favorite appearance is when the “bluebird” referenced in the lyric comes into play, resting on one character’s shoulder, true to the lyrical content.

The accusations of racism are justified as keen viewers will understand the condescension towards blacks in several scenes.

More than once, a parade of black people is seen traipsing through the plantation, singing songs, not precisely cheerfully but not despondent.

The scenes have eerie slavery overtones- despite the black character’s all presumably being free to come and go, the reality is they all work for white folk. The black plight and struggle are completely sugar-coated and dismissed.

The animated characters are voiced by strong ethnic voices and are presumed to be ridiculous. The usage of a Tar-Baby character, ultimately enshrined in black tar, seems offensive, almost teetering on the implication of promoting a blackface minstrel show moment as the character, once white, is then turned black because of the tar.

Song of the South is not the only film of its time to face racist accusations- the enormous Gone with the Wind (1939) and Jezebel (1938) faced similar heat.

Song of the South (1946) is recommended for those who recognize the existing racism and appreciate the film’s artistic merits. Wise and resounding friendships between white and black characters are evident, and it is a lovely story about determination, fairness, and respect.

The film should be treasured for its lovely moments and scolded for racist overtones.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Original Song-“Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” (won)

1941 Films, Bette Davis, Drama, Edmund Goulding, George Brent, Hattie McDaniel, Mary Astor, Romantic Drama

The Great Lie-1941

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The Great Lie-1941

Director Edmund Goulding

Starring Bette Davis, Mary Astor

Scott’s Review #891

Reviewed April 28, 2019

Grade: B+

Breezing into her heyday of films at this point, Hollywood starlet Bette Davis had become an expert at portraying tarts and bitches in most of her movies. Desiring to turn left of center and play a more sympathetic character, the actress jumped at the chance to play an ingenue.

The Great Lie (1941) is the perfect showcase for her talents in a gripping, dramatic film that is purely predictable soap opera, but lovely escapism did well.

Maggie Patterson (Davis) is a demure and sensitive southern socialite vying for the affections of former beau, aviator Peter Van Allen (George Brent). Peter impulsively married sophisticated concert pianist Sandra Kovak (Mary Astor), and both were startled to learn that their marriage was invalid.

Confused, Peter decides to marry Maggie and is quickly sent off to Brazil on business when his airplane crashes into the jungle, leaving him presumed dead.

When Sandra realizes she is pregnant, Maggie proposes that she be allowed to raise the child independently in exchange for financially caring for Sandra. The two women go to Arizona to await the birth, and Sandra delivers a boy named after his father.

When Peter shows up alive and well, the women face a quandary. Sandra bitterly announces to Maggie that she intends to ride off into the sunset with Peter and her son. For the remainder of the picture, the women metaphorically scratch and claw at each other.

Despite being melodramatic and stellar for an afternoon daytime drama, the storyline is engaging and never suffers from too much contrivance.

Both Maggie and Sandra have appeal, and both women are likable—or at least the film does its best not to make one woman the clear villain. Sandra, dripping with gorgeous fashion and sturdy poise, is confident, pairing well with Maggie’s southern charm and sensibilities—to say nothing of her wealth. Peter would do well with either woman, and I found my allegiances shifting throughout the film.

Mary Astor’s terrific performance as Sandra nearly upstages Davis. The women are the reason for The Great Lie’s grit and gusto. They play the hell out of their roles, and according to legend, both hated the script and vowed to turn the project into gold together.

They nearly succeed as the best sequence is when the women travel to deserted Arizona to spend the remainder of Sandra’s pregnancy. They cooped up together. Seeing Davis’ Maggie play caretaker to a whiny and spoiled Sandra was delicious. Typically, Davis would play Sandra’s character, so the scenes are a treat.

Suspension of disbelief must be achieved as the film’s primary plot is jarring in incomprehension. Maggie offers to provide Sandra with a large sum of money to ensure her security. I did not buy this point as Sandra appears well-off, touring the world with incredible success and living a lavish lifestyle, including a staff of servants and a gorgeous apartment in New York City.

The character hardly appears to need a handout despite the incorporated dialogue of Sandra’s success predicted to wane as she ages.

Another oddity is the location of Maggie’s estate. Although Maryland is hardly a southern mecca, the area has all the trimmings of the deep South, perhaps Mississippi. With an all-black staff, magnolia trees, and southern-style cuisine, the Maryland backdrop is quite perplexing and a misfire.

More relevant would have been if the location were Mississippi, Louisiana, or Alabama. Finally, remiss would it be not to mention appearances by Hattie McDaniel and brother Sam as Violet and Jefferson, employed by Maggie, always a treat.

With high drama and terrific acting, The Great Lie (1941) offers tremendous chemistry between the female leads, resulting in a deserved Best Supporting Actress Oscar for Astor.

The dialogue may be silly and superfluous with plot gimmicks and obvious setups, but the film does work. Viewers can let loose and enjoy a sudsy drama with enjoyable trimmings.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Supporting Actress-Mary Astor (won)