second wife, Texas socialite Maria
Franklin Prentiss Lucas Langham,
and subsequent marriage to Carole
Lombard in 1939.
It would take two years and a
revolving door of writers, including
F. Scott Fitzgerald, to adapt
the Brobdingnagian tome, time
Selznick would need to find his
Scarlett O’Hara, considering the
breadth of 1930’s Hollywood, from
Joan Crawford to Lucille Ball.
Using footage of actual screen tests,
Kenrick treated the audience to
auditions with such stars as Jean
Arthur and Paulette Goddard, as
well as eventual winner of the role,
Vivian Leigh. But equally as entertaining
are Kenrick’s anecdotes,
which the rousing raconteur has
reaped over many years of research.
Rival eponymous studio mogul
Jack Warner offered to loan Mayer
star Bette Davis with the caveat
he employ fellow contract player
Errol Flynn for Rhett Butler.
When Davis learned of Mayer’s
refusal, according to Kenrick, the
headstrong headliner “threw a
conniption,” believing it cost her
the Oscar. By way of placation,
Warner made “Jezebel,” casting
Davis as the film’s uncompromising
Southern belle, for which she won
the 1938 Oscar. Kenrick noted both
the film’s familiarity to Mitchell’s
classic and its titular character’s
more than passing resemblance to
Scarlett O’Hara, though stopping
shy of actually saying, “plagiarism.”
Casting complications would
extend to the co-stars. Ashley
Wilkes portrayer, Leslie Howard,
refused the part until Selznick
agreed to finance his pet project
“Intermezzo.” The 1939 film about
a married violin virtuoso, who falls
for his accompanist, would earn
two Academy Award nods.
Under contract with Warner
Bros., Melanie Hamilton actor,
Olivia de Havilland, had a more
difficult row to hoe. When Jack
Warner staunchly denied the starlet’s
request to be loaned to rival
Mayer, the demure de Havilland
took matters into her own hands.
“I may not have been a big star,
but I was a little star nonetheless,
so I called the bosses wife,” the
centenarian thespian recalled in
a recent interview, which Kenrick
shared. She invited Warner’s wife
to tea at the famous Brown Derby
restaurant in Beverly Hills, where
de Havilland implored her for help,
a move which landed de Havilland
the role.
From the outset, Selznick was
determined to show the African-
American roles in a manner anathema
to how they had been done to
that point in film history. “Black
characters should be portrayed
with a level of dignity they hadn’t
received,” he said, in explaining
his obduracy in not casting Stepin
Fetchit, whose popularity perpetuated
negative racial stereotypes.
Still, nothing could escape the
fact Hattie McDaniel was playing
a servant to a white family. When
criticized for taking the part,
McDaniel, whose grandmother
worked on a Southern plantation,
parried, “Why should I complain
about making $700 a week playing
a maid? If I didn’t, I’d be making
$7 a day being one.”
Part of Kenrick’s deft handling
of the most grandiose of subjects
is the attention he brings to
unsung heroes and “Gone with
the Wind” has its fair share, lost
amid the many hirings and firings
during its production. One such
is Art Director William Menzies
who visualized every major scene
in beautifully rendered paintings
before a single take was shot. The
translation of his storyboards can
be seen throughout the film, most
poignantly, during the burning
of Atlanta, which oddly, was the
first scene of the nearly 4-hour
epic shot.
Unlike today, where CGI has
enabled studios the ability to
construct literally anything on a
computer keyboard to be projected
on a green screen, old Hollywood
relied on physically building brickand
mortar structures to create
the landscapes they envisioned
for the various shots in a movie.
Once erected, studios strove to
reuse sets as much as possible to
save money. What’s more expensive
than building a set from scratch?
Disassembling one to make room
to build another.
This was the problem Selznick
faced. His lots were filled with the
remains of prior successes, such
as “David Copperfield” and “King
Kong.” What better, cheaper way
to raze these old lots to provide a
clean slate for the sets in “Gone
with the Wind” than with a fire?
When Gable famously road his
wagons through the conflagration
of a burning Atlanta, no one suspected
he was escaping Dickens’s
London and the thoroughfares of
Gotham where Kong rampaged.
Kenrick is also undaunted by
anecdotal whitewashing, citing
the behind, behind-the-scene
story of original director George
Cukor’s dismissal shortly after
filming began, which is often
blamed on “creative differences”
with Producer Selznick. According
to the entertainment historian,
Cukor was the leading figure in
Hollywood’s gay community, aware
of any discretions Gable was guilty
of in his rise from struggling extra in
silent pictures. Early in filming one
day, when Gable was late getting
onto the set, he was chastised by
Cukor. “Now Clark, you don’t want
me talking about certain things,
do you?” Cukor warned as a way
of corralling his misbehaving star.
Gable remained quiet during
shooting, but stormed into Louis
B. Mayer’s offices at his first
opportunity. “Either the faggot
goes or I do!” he threatened.
Cukor was immediately replaced
with Victor Fleming who was
taken off the set of “The Wizard
of Oz.” However, the unfortunate
incident turned out to be a boon
for the movie, which in three short
weeks, had lapsed into languor.
Fleming re-energized the production,
when shooting resumed,
though he, too, would eventually
be replaced, forced from the set by
sheer exhaustion.
Still, Fleming was credited as
director upon the film’s release,
having filmed most of the major
scenes, including that indelible
image of thousands of wounded
and dead Confederate soldiers.
Kenrick revealed approximately
one-third of the fallen were real
humans, the rest, dummies, one
of which later serving as Donald
O’Conner’s dance partner when
he performed the legendary “Make
’em Laugh” number more than a
dozen years later in “Singin’ in the
Rain.”
“Gone with the Wind” was
released on December 15, 1939, to
positive reviews. It was nominated
for a record-setting 13 Academy
Awards, winning 8, as well as two
Honorary Awards. When adjusted
for monetary inflation, it is still the
most successful film in box-office
history.
As for that iconic quote, Selznick
defied the censors and Catholic
League, who decried the use of
“damn,” keeping it in the finished
script. Years later, as his opponents
continued to grumble, the legendary
producer had this to say about
his resolve to keep the quote intact:
“For one brief, shining moment,
Hollywood grew up.”
Kenrick makes a point
This iconic scene employed only about a third real people
May 2018 ¢ NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER 13