Rosalind is Divorced

Marsha Meredith (Rosalind Russell) has been nominated for a federal judgeship. Standing in her way is her recent divorce from Peter Webb (Bob Cummings), an acrimonious affair that is frowned upon by the Senate committee investigating her. To make matters worse, Peter is interfering in the proceedings; Peter wants Marsha back. But Marsha - and her Grandfather (Harry Davenport) - want him out of her life.  Marsha suspects him of having an affair with Ginger Simmons (Marie McDonald) who Peter - a lawyer - claims is a witness; Grandpa just doesn't like him. Our film is Tell it to the Judge (1949).

We are all admirers of the wonderful Rosalind Russell, and were looking forward to this film. We were, unfortunately, quite wrong - it's awful on many levels. Primarily, it's really hard to view in 2019 - the antics of Peter Webb in his quest to get his wife back are horrific. Why any woman would want to marry him is really beyond our ken. Ms. Russell does her level best to make some sense of Marsha, but it's quite impossible, and by the end of the film, you wonder why she would involve herself with such a bunch of schlemiels.  Jeanine Basinger calls Marsha one of the "nightmare career women" Ms. Russell played during the 1940s (A Woman's View: How Hollywood Spoke to Women, 1930-1960) - Ms. Russell recalled at least 23 such parts (TCM article).

Which brings us to Robert Cummings - I've mentioned before that most of my group are not fans (see our entry on him in For Heaven's Sake).  He's even worse in Tell It to the Judge. He doesn't bother to act - he mugs, he overdoes everything, he's shrill. The character is abusive and stupid, constantly putting Marsha into situations designed to do her bodily injury. Even a scene as simple as Cleo (the badly used Louise Beavers) trying to get a ton of luggage out of the room points out his callousness. Certainly, a lot of it is the script, but Mr. Cummings brings nothing to the part. We wondered if a more competent and appealing actor (Cary Grant) might have had a more positive effect on the film - it would certainly be an uphill battle.

Harry Davenport is an actor we always enjoy, but not here. Gramps is a bully in a different direction. HE'S decided Marsha should be a federal judge, and it is implied that he has helped manipulate the divorce because he sees Peter as a hindrance. With the exception of a scene in the middle of the film where he attempts to shanghai Peter, Mr. Davenport has precious little to do. It's a waste of a wonderful actor.

Marie MacDonald's character is in genuine danger from gangsters, but the film plays this down to rev up the "other woman" angle. She's not at all interested in Peter (a woman of sense), but she is afraid for her life, and he's the only person in a position to help her. By trivializing her danger the film again demonstrates that Peter is a jackass who cares for no one but himself.

When we meet  Alexander Darvac (Gig Young), we initially think he might be a better match for Marsha. But as the film progresses, we realize he is just as bad - if not worse - than Peter. It's clear that Mr. Young has no clue who this fellow is; basically he's just another abusive male in this woman's life.

With a screenplay - originally titled My Next Husband (AFI catalog) - that has random scenes that are way too long and characters that are cruel manipulators, we have to agree with Bernard F. Dick when he calls the film "low farce jacked up a few notches to screwball without the accompanying wit" (Forever Mame: The Life of Rosalind Russell).  Unless you are a Rosalind Russell complete-ist, this is one to avoid.

Betty Wears Ermine

The kingdom of Bergamo is celebrating the wedding of their Countess Angelina (Betty Grable) to Baron Mario (Cesar Romero), her childhood friend. The festivities are interrupted by gunshot - the Hungarians, Bergamo's longtime enemy are invading. Mario flees to join his regiment, while Angelina awaits the arrival of the Colonel (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) and his forces. When he arrives and is denied admittance to the Countess, the Colonel finds himself smitten with a portrait of an earlier Countess of Bergamo, Francesca (Betty Grable), That Lady in Ermine (1948).

Initially directed by Ernst Lubitsch, this is a frothy little musical that is fun and enjoyable. It's a happy film; it's a bit silly, but it is fun and entertaining. It's a fairy tale for adults and doesn't try to be anything else. Based on an operetta titled Die Frau im Hermelin, Lubitsch had hoped to direct it since the studio acquired the rights in 1942. By the time he was able to put the film together, he was suffering from heart disease, and regrettably died during production. Direction was taken over by Otto Preminger (who reshot some scenes, and deleted others). Out of respect for Lubitsch (or so he claimed), Preminger refused to have his name placed on the picture (TCM article).

Betty Grable is quite sweet as the Countesses Francesca and Angelina. As Francesca, she is a portrait come to life - and she is especially fun in that role. She gets to boss the other portraits around, and beam periodically at The Colonel (which is rather disconcerting for him!). Of course, she is also an excellent dancer, and her big number with Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. is quite energetic and exciting to watch (directed by Hermes Pan!). She also has a beautiful wardrobe designed by Renè Hubert - the full-length ermine coat that Francesca wears in the portrait was real ermine according to the Fox publicity department, and cost $28,000. (AFI catalog)

Douglas Fairbanks is captivating and charming as the Colonel. Though initially domineering, exposure to Francesca - and Angelina - make him loosen up a bit. Mr. Fairbanks portrays the Colonel as a man secure in his masculinity, and so you root for him  to capture the love of the fair maiden. The dance cited above is exciting largely because of Mr. Fairbanks athletic style of dance -   as he leaps on and off  tables, one is reminded of his father, Douglas Sr.

Mr. Fairbanks' foil in the action is Cesar Romero, who doesn't really have a lot to work with. Mario is a wimp, and he is there if only to give the audience someone to root against. Born in New York City (and yes, Cesar Romero is his real name). He started his film career in 1933 - his second film had him as the greedy husband of the former Mrs. Wynant in The Thin Man (1934).  Much of his career, however, was spent playing ethnic parts and in supporting roles - he was Indian in Wee Willie Winkie (1937), Italian in British Agent (1934), and Spanish in The Captain from Castile (1947) - but he had his share of leads, including Week-End in Havana (1941).  During the second World War, he joined the Coast Guard, and saw action in the Mariana Islands. He began to transition to television in the 1950's and it was there that he found a new audience - notably with his audacious performance as The Joker in the Batman series. He was popular in the Hollywood community - frequently escorting single women like Barbara Stanwyck, Lucille Ball, Ann Sheridan, Jane Wyman and Ginger Rogers to events. Mr. Romero never married; he died in 1994, at age 86, of a blood clot. 

It's always a pleasure to see Walter Abel (playing the dual roles of Major Horvath and Benvenuto). He's delightful as a family man who rather likes his surly commander.  Also present in very small parts are Reginald Gardiner (as Alberto, an inhabitant of one of the portraits), and Harry Davenport (as Luigi, the palace storyteller and matchmaker).

When the film was first acquired, Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer were the intended leads. Later, Gene Tierney was considered for Francesca/Angelina and both Rex Harrison and Cornel Wilde were in the running for the Colonel. Not surprisingly, the PCA had some issues with the initial script; some minor tweaks to the ending solved this problems.

We were amazed to discover that Bosley Crowther of the New York Times actually enjoyed the film when he reviewed it. He called it "a glittering and mischievous romp, punctuated with nice music...." While not Lubitsch's best film, it's a lot of fun and certainly worth seeing (it was my favorite movie when I was tiny, and much to my parents' chagrin, in the age before VHS recorders, it was a movie I was always asking to view). We'll leave you with this trailer:

Ronald is Lucky

As David Grant (Ronald Colman) walks down the street, he spies Jean Newton (Ginger Rogers). David is taken with her, and as they pass each other, he wishes her luck. When her errand results in a lucky encounter, Jean seeks out David and asks him to go half on a sweepstakes ticket; they are, she believes, Lucky Partners (1940), and together they can win enough money for Jean to marry her fiance Freddie Harder (Jack Carson). David agrees, but with a caveat - Jean must go away with him on a trip if they win. He promises it will be all above-board, but he wants a few days with alone with her.

This is a cute, if slight film, that borders on being a waste of some excellent talents.  In their only film together, Ginger Rogers and Ronald Colman work well as a pair. They are an engaging couple, and it's a shame they didn't have a stronger script. Though at some point rumors arose of discontent between the two actors, Ms. Rogers firmly denied the charges. She agreed to the role (turning down His Girl Friday!) because of her eagerness to work with Mr. Colman. She professed in her autobiography to being nearly a fan girl on the set, grinning with delight every time she watched him work (TCM article).  Ms. Rogers opted for dark hair for the part, and later regretted the decision. Though she looks very different from the Ginger Rogers we are used to, we didn't think the dark hair was that bad. Her wardrobe, while simple, is totally appropriate to the character, a working girl in New York City.

 

Mr. Colman had just started his own production company; this film, and My Life with Caroline were the results. Sadly, they were the only scripts he could acquire. He plays the part of David with a twinkle in his eye, but even with the little bit of serious business at the end of the film, he really doesn't have a lot to do except be charming. It is important that we like David, and that we understand why Jean is attracted to him. With Mr. Colman, there is no question as to her reactions.

Jack Carson is such an excellent actor that he does a wonderful job playing a total oaf. This was his first big role, and he handles it quite well. Though director Lewis Milestone later recalled that Carson was in such awe of his costars that he was originally overwhelmed by his casting. Ginger Rogers was reluctant to have Carson in the role of her boyfriend - she recalled he had been an extra on one of her films. It was up to Mr. Milestone to remind her that she too gotten her start as an extra.

Mr. Carson started his professional career in vaudeville. He began getting uncredited screen roles in 1937; in 1938, he started performing on radio. His distinctive voice proved an asset, and he was soon hosting shows. The year after this film, he starred with James Cagney, Olivia de Havilland, and Rita Hayworth as the conniving Hugo Barnstead in The Strawberry Blonde. He played another loud in Mildred Pierce (1945). But he also could play leading roles, as in Roughly Speaking (1945), in which he appeared as Rosalind Russell's adoring husband. By the 1950s, Mr. Carson had segued to television, appearing in a number of shows, including The Twilight Zone and Bonanza. Married four times, he had two children with his second wife. He died in 1962, age 52, of stomach cancer.

Spring Byington has the thankless role of Jean's Aunt. While we usually love Ms. Byington, she is completely wasted in this outing. The character is more of an annoyance than a help to the film. It's a shame, because she is an engaging actress of great versatility.

One scene that was quite appealing was a small interlude with an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester, who Jean recognizes as children's book authors of whom she was a fan. Portrayed with delicacy by Brandon Tynan and Cecilia Loftus, the scene was sweet, primarily because of the performances of this lovely couple. 

Without giving too much of the plot away, the film attempts at the end to deal with a fairly serious subject - that of pornography. But the courtroom scene in which this is played out is so desperately silly, that it loses its punch. We have the wonderful Harry Davenport as the Judge, but even he can't pull the sequence out of the morass of nonsense. It's a shame, because it was fascinating to see a film trying to explain the distinction between art and pornography.

Adapted from a French film by Sacha Guitry entitled Bonne Chance (1935) (AFI catalog), Lucky Partners got a surprisingly excellent review from New York Times critic Bosley Crowther when it opened at Radio City Music Hall in New York. It also did well at the box office, earning $1.39 million.

We'll leave you with the trailer from the film. It's got some fun moments, and it IS your only chance to see Mr. Colman with Ms. Rogers.

Greer's Bad Marriage

Told in flashback after the death of Philip Bosinney (Robert Young), That Forsyte Woman (1949) introduces us to Irene Herenford Forsyte (Greer Garson).  Irene's husband, Soames Forsyte (Errol Flynn) decided he wanted Irene as a wife - she was beautiful and dignified, and Soames is a man who gets what he wants. So, despite the fact that she is honest and tells him she does not love him, Soames cajoles her that love will come and she consents. But love does not come, primarily because Irene feels controlled by Soames: he picks her clothing, tells her where to go and when, and who to meet. For this Man of Property, Irene is one of his treasured possessions - she is a fine piece of art that he has purchased and now displays with pride.  Irene's one joy is her relationship with her niece June (Janet Leigh), who is madly in love with architect Philip Bosinney. The problem - Irene is falling in love with Bosinney as well.

This is an excellent film with a great deal of nuance. The script, which is taken carefully from John Galsworthy's first novel in The Forsyte Saga, The Man of Property, deals only with the marriage of Soames and Irene (whereas the 1967 and 2001 BBC series covered The Man of Property (1906), Indian Summer of a Forsyte (1918), In Chancery (1920), Awakening (1920) and To Let (1921), and A Modern Comedy (1928)). The story of Irene and Soames' marriage is fraught with problems in the novel - Irene has an affair with Philip, and Soames rapes Irene - issues the film could only suggest (or raise the ire of the censors!). But the hints are there; it only takes a little imagination to understand exactly what is going on.

Errol Flynn was borrowed from Warner Brothers to play Young Jolyon Forsyte (the role that ultimately went to Walter Pidgeon). (In exchange, Jack Warner got William Powell for Life with Father (AFI catalog). Once at MGM, Flynn refused to play young Jolyon. He was then offered the role of Bosinney; again he refused. Flynn wanted to play Soames - a drastic change from his usual swashbuckling roles (TCM article).  MGM finally agreed, and Flynn gave an impressive performance as a man who is involved only with the financial value of everyone and everything in his life. Once finished with this film, he was back to Warners, again making westerns and swashbucklers. It's amusing that he ends up in the video of the MGM 25th Anniversary Lunch, chatting happily with Greer Garson. Jack Warner must have been furious!

Greer Garson is intriging as a woman who is torn between an unhappy marriage and financial security. Irene is down to her last cent - she can only survive teaching piano, and her only client is her landlady. Soames' campaign to win her (he enlists the help of the landlady) catches her at a low point in her life and she succumbs. Likewise, Philip catches her as she begins to doubt her decision to marry Soames; it seems that her love for Philip really is a remembrance of the love she lost many years before. She comments that Philip is much like that idealist and untidy young man. Irene is a woman who wants to be strong, but often lets herself be led, against her better judgement.

Philip, however, comes off as thoughtless, at the least, and insincere at most. He pursues June when he first meets her; likewise, he is hot on the heels of Irene after their first encounter. We felt that, once Irene accedes to his advances, he will fall in love with someone else. We found it difficult to believe Philip, much less sympathize with him, he is so flighty.

Janet Leigh is lovely as June. She plays a genuinely nice girl, who is blasted into anger by betrayal. The character certainly deserves better than Philip! Ms. Leigh literally burst into stardom after Norma Shearer saw her photo on her father's desk at the ski resort where he worked. Her first film, The Romance of Rosy Ridge (1947) starred her opposite MGM heartthrob Van Johnson, and she starred in a succession of films afterwards, including Little Women (1949), Holiday Affair (1949), Angels in the Outfield (1951), and Scaramouche (1952). But it was Psycho (1960) that most people remember today. Among my personal favorites is her performance in The Manchurian Candidate (1962). (In a recent discussion of the film, William Friedkin posited that Rosie is a double agent. I'm never going to watch that movie again in the same way!) Ms. Leigh was married 4 times, most famously to the father of her daughters Kelly and Jamie Lee, Tony Curtis (the marriage lasted 11 years). She wrote four books (two novels, a memoir, and a book about Psycho). By the 1960s, she was making frequent television appearances (including another of my favorite, the sadistic Miss Diketon in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. episode, The Concrete Overcoat Affair). She died in 2004, aged 77, three years after the death of her fourth husband, Robert Brandt - they had been married for 38 years.

This was the last filmed performance of Harry Davenport (Old Jolyon Forsyte), a remarkable character actor who is probably most remembered as Grandpa in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) and Dr. Meade in Gone with the Wind (1939) [Two films would be released after this: Tell it to the Judge (1949) and Riding High (1950)]. The descendant of a long line of actors, Mr. Davenport began his career at the age of five (he was born in 1866). By 1894, he was appearing on Broadway. By 1934, he had appeared in 37 Broadway plays.  His film career began in 1913; he transitioned from silents to talkies, and spent much of his sound film career playing kindly grandfathers and professional men. In 1913, he co-founded (with Eddie Foy) the Actors' Equity Association. When his marriage to his first wife ended after three years, he married actress Phyllis Rankin - they were together for 33 years, until her death in 1934. They had three children together (Harry also had a daughter with his first wife, and Phyllis had a son - who would become the father of Arthur Rankin, Jr.). Mr. Davenport died of a heart attack in 1949, at the age of 83 - he was in the process of securing a new screen role when he died.

With exquisite costumes by Walter Plunkett (for the women) and Valles (for the men), lush technicolor photography by Joseph Ruttenberg, and art direction by Cedric Gibbons and Daniel Cathcart, this is a truly beautiful film. While the New York Times review was not kind to anyone but Ms. Garson, we enjoyed the film immensely. (It opened at Radio City Music Hall - definitely a prestige venue!). We'll leave you with the trailer, for a quick look at this lovely film.

Dorothy is a Young Mother

Claudia and David (1946) picks up nearly four years after we left the Naughtons in Claudia.  Claudia (Dorothy McGuire) is very much involved in mothering her little son, Bobby (Anthony Sydes), with the assistance of Bertha (Elsa Janssen), who now serves both as nanny and housekeeper. While at a dinner party hosted by David's sister-in-law Julia (Gail Patrick), the Naughtons meet Elizabeth Van Doren (Mary Astor), a wealthy widow who wants to completely redesign the farm which she purchased some years before. David (Robert Young) is thrilled to be offered what he sees as a dream job, but Claudia becomes annoyed at the amount of time David is spending on the project, pulling him away from home for longer periods of time.

There was no difference in opinion on this one - the entire group enjoyed the film, and found the more mature Claudia very appealing.  Sure, we have an initial driving sequence where we discover that Claudia is a terrible driver, but other than that, you spend a lot of the movie rooting for Claudia (and conversely getting very aggravated at David for being a total jerk).  Dorothy McGuire gives us a Claudia who wants to be a good mom; we know that she learned from the best, and it is reflected in her attitude towards her child. Her irritation towards David is the result of his unjustified petulance. David is almost blase about his son's illness and is oblivious to Claudia's concerns when she suspects the little boy is ill. I found myself cheering when she told him off.

One scene in particular is very telling in demonstrating the growth of the character of Claudia. Confronted by Edith Dexter (Rose Hobart), the wife of neighbor Philip Dexter (John Sutton), who has been visiting Claudia and little Bobby (Philip had driven Claudia home the night before, when he realized her concern about her child's health), Claudia is able to ultimately disregard Edith's nastiness (Edith smacks Claudia across the face), and have a kind and moving heart-to-heart with the older woman. Claudia's gentleness of spirit shines through, and you can see her reflecting back the teachings of her mother.

It's always good to see Jerome Cowan (Brian O'Toole); and he is very good in the part of stage medium.  We did feel that Brian's telling Claudia that David is going to have an accident seemed a bit over-the-top for a man who is essentially a performer. It is perhaps that the screenwriter wanted Claudia to seem silly for believing him, but her naive belief in him isn't all that odd - he's summoned up memories of her late mother, and already convinced several of the other dinner-party attendees of his veracity. By the conclusion of the film, you do have to wonder if he really has ANY psychic powers.

This was Anthony Sydes first film; though his name was not immediately familiar, he had a respectable career as a child actor.   Most of us probably remember him as Thelma Ritter's son, Peter in Miracle on 34th Street (1947) or as Tony in Sitting Pretty (1948).  Born in 1941, he worked in films and television until he was 17 years old, after which, he joined the Army, serving two tours in Vietnam. His next career was as a professional auctioneer - he started an auction business and an auction college (to train new professionals in the field). His firm was still in business in 2015 when he died at age 74.  (For more information, see this obituary in The Hollywood Reporter).

For those of you who might wonder if the mustard bath that is used was actually a treatment of the time, it was. It was a long-time home remedy for fever.  By 1949, according to this Archives of Disease in Childhood article, it was considered by doctors, at any rate, as a way to keep parents busy until the doctor could arrive (back in the era of house calls!) -  much the way Philip sets Claudia doing tasks that will keep her occupied until the Doctor (Harry Davenport)'s arrival.

We also enjoyed John Sutton, who gave Philip a kindness that (for us) eliminated any thought of a pursuit of Claudia.  Sutton had a fascinating life - before becoming an actor, he worked as a tea plantation manager, a hunter, and a rancher; living in what is now Pakistan (where he was born), China, Malaya, and the Philippines. With over 103 film and television credits, he had an impressive career (usually as a villain or second lead) in such films as Jane Eyre (1944), Captain from Castile (1947), and The Three Musketeers (1948). He died of a heart attack in Cannes in 1963, age 54.

The New York Times review was fairly positive, though we think they were harder on Claudia then she deserves (and much kinder to David than HE deserved). There was a third Claudia film planned (AFI Catalog), but as Ms. McGuire and Mr. Young were never free at the same time, the picture never happened. Regardless, this is a nice conclusion to the series, and worth a visit.

Scarlett Loves WHO?

Gone with the Wind on a big screen - can it get any better than that?  Thanks to TCM and Fantom Events, we got the opportunity to see this magnificent movie where it deserves to be seen, in a theatre, on a huge screen, surrounded by fellow devotees of Ms. O'Hara (Hamilton-Kennedy-Butler) and Captain Rhett Butler.  We've had a prior discussion about the film, in the context of Olivia de Havilland's superb depiction of Melanie Hamilton Wilkes, but it's impossible to talk too much about Gone With the Wind.  Every time you see it, you see something new.  (By the way, my favorite of her many glorious dresses is to the left).

Let's get one thing out of the way.  I love this film (surprise!), but I'm always waiting for the alternate reel wherein Rhett finally figures Scarlett out and doesn't leave.  Sure, we'd lose some great lines, but Rhett frustrates me a lot.  He knows from the get-go that Scarlett is stubborn, that she has a crush on Ashley, and that she doesn't think she loves him.  But at the first sign of moon-face from her, he gets mad.  It also doesn't help that the motivating factor is her weight gain (after all, he was the one that told her "If you don't stop being such a glutton, you'll get as fat as Mammy. Then I'll divorce you.").  In fact, in the novel by Margaret Mitchell, she's already had three children - can one blame her for wanting to stop being a baby-making machine (the poor woman gets pregnant if a man LOOKS at her)?  

The problem is, I like Rhett so much, I just always think he should know better.  It also struck me this time that, by the end of the film, what he wants most is to become Ashley - "I want peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn't something left in life of charm and grace..."  The very thing he always ridiculed about Ashley is the life that he himself desires.  But, Rhett is a continual source of self-contradiction - he loathes the war, but runs off to fight as the cause is lost; he laughs at polite society, but struggles to join it when his daughter is born, and he claims no ability to love, yet loves Scarlett with a depth it is hard to fathom.

There are a lot of people who don't like Ms. O'Hara, but I'm one of the ones who does like and rather admire her.  Scarlett is someone I want on my side.   I know that, if the chips are down, and I'm one of her "folk", I'll be protected.  Think about her relationship with Melanie: Scarlett claims to disdain Melanie, to want her gone, so there will be a clear path to Ashley.  Yet, she puts herself in danger to protect Melanie when she could easily leave Atlanta in advance of the invasion.  With cannon-fire surrounding her, and no one to support her, Scarlett stays to safely deliver Melanie's baby, then transports Melanie and baby Beau (and Prissy, who anyone else would have left behind) to Tara, where Scarlett becomes responsible for their care and feeding - when there is no food for anyone.  And, when they do have some food, and Melanie is handing it out to every soldier that comes by, Scarlett chides Melanie, but there is no animosity in her comment.  She says it for effect.  Scarlett knows very well that Melanie will not stop.  Let's not forget Scarlett is 19 years old when she is forced to assume responsibility for Tara, and she and Melanie are afraid that Ashley is dead. Certainly, Scarlett is a lot harder in the novel; the film does clean her up a bit.  But all in all, she handles her responsibilities pretty well for a teenager.  Visit A Person in the Dark for yet another fan of the magnificent Ms. O'Hara!

I had a rather amusing realization this viewing (the big screen helped a lot).  Olivia de Havilland knows how to crochet!  In the scene where Melanie, India, Mrs. Meade and Scarlett are waiting for the return of their men from a "political meeting" (translation - a raid on Shanty Town that will have very bad results), Scarlett is embroidering, India is knitting, and Mrs. Meade and Melanie crochet.  First off, the distribution is interesting.   Scarlett is the only one performing a purely decorative craft - there's not much practical use for crewel work except to ornament a home.  While the other three ladies work on projects that are practical.  But while it's not clear if Alicia Rhett and Leona Roberts know what they are doing, Ms. de Havilland clearly does.  In fact, her crocheting speeds as she becomes anxious - the true sign of an experienced handcrafter - the craft acts as a stress reliever.

Obviously, there is a lot of information available on this film.  One interesting take is Gavin Lambert's The Atlantic article "The Making of Gone With the Wind."  We learn that Gable was terrified to break down in front of Melanie, and even threatened to walk off the set rather than cry.  But his respect for Victor Fleming won the day, giving us perhaps the most remarkable scene of a wonderful career.  We also learn that, since only 1,500 extras were available to film the railroad station scene, 1,000 dummies were interspersed among the extras to portray the vastness of the war's damage.   My husband was particularly looking forward to this scene.  It is a stirring moment, displaying all that is now lost, and the endless suffering caused by a pointless war.  Done with the special effects capabilities of 1939, it is nonetheless a breathtaking scene

We leave you with two clips this time - first, the railroad station scene...

And since imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, here is Carol Burnett's over-the-top homage to Ms. Scarlett Went with the Wind. 

Next time, back to our regular discussion.