Aspects of Gone With The Wind are obviously antiquated and icky, and I don’t blame those who’ve washed their hands of it over the odious racial stuff. But it’s not, as an Ankler burb recently stated, “one of Hollywood most disgraced films.” That’s putting it way too harshly. The film’s distasteful attitudes aside, it’s more noteworthy for being one of Hollywood’s most misunderstood films. By wokesters, I mean.

I’ve posted this three or four times over the last seven years, but here goes again: “I don’t believe it’s right to throw Gone With The Wind under the bus just like that. Yes, it’s an icky and offensive film at times (Vivien Leigh‘s Scarlett O’Hara slapping Butterly McQueen‘s Prissy for being irresponsible in the handling of Melanie giving birth, the depiction of Everett Brown‘s Big Sam as a gentle, loyal and eternal defender of Scarlett when the chips are down) but every time I’ve watched GWTW I’ve always put that stuff in a box in order to focus on the real order of business.

“For Gone With The Wind is not a film about slavery or the antebellum South or even, really, the Civil War. It’s a movie about (a) a struggle to survive under ghastly conditions and (b) about how those with brass and gumption often get through the rough patches better than those who embrace goodness and generosity and playing by the rules. This is a fundamental human truth, and if you ask me the reason Gone With The Wind has resonated for so long is that generation after generation has recognized it as such. Anyone who’s ever faced serious adversity understands the eloquence of that classic Scarlett O’Hara line, “I’ll never be hungry again.”

“I think GWTW particularly connected with 1939 audiences because they saw it as a parable of the deprivations that people had gone through during the Great Depression.

“On top of which the second half of part one of Gone With The Wind (the shelling of Atlanta to Scarlett shaking her first at those red skies) is undeniably great cinema. Max Steiner‘s music, the struggle, the crowd scenes, the panic, the burning of Atlanta, Ernest Haller‘s cinematography, the anguish, the soldiers groaning and moaning, Scarlett’s drooling horse collapsing from exhaustion, the moonlight breaking through as she approaches Tara…you just can’t throw all that out. Yes, the film’s unfortunate racial attitudes, which were lamentably par for the course 75 years ago, are now socially obsolete. And I wouldn’t argue with anyone who feels that portions of it are too distasteful to celebrate, but it just doesn’t seem right to lock all of that richness inside some ignoble closet and say “no more, forget about it, put it out of your minds.” Legendary filmmaking is legendary filmmaking.”

In any given year many Oscar nominees are elevated by career narratives (being “due” or launching a comeback). More recently or over the last five or six years, it’s been a matter of narrative plus identity with an emphasis on the latter.

In other words the Oscars have never been solely about merit, but since ’17 and especially in the Best Picture realm** they’ve become equity-driven and identity-branded, certainly as far as the Best Picture winners have been concerned. (The exception was Peter Farrelly‘s Green Book, which won in early ’19.)

We’re all familiar with this year’s recipients of equity largesse, but some nominees have made the grade solely on merit…imagine!

The merit nominees include Cate Blanchett‘s Tar performance, obviously, in the Best Actress realm. (She won’t be winning.) Elvis‘ Austin Butler (likely winner), Banshees‘ Colin Farrell and Living‘s Bill Nighy among lead actors. The Whale‘s Hong Chau (deserves to win) was nominated completely according to merit. Among support male performers the leading meritorious trio are Banshees‘ Brendan Gleeson and Barry Keoghan, and The Fabelmans‘ Judd Hirsch.

And among the purely meritorious Best Picture nominees there’s no elbowing aside Top Gun: Maverick, All Quiet on the Western Front, Tar, The Banshees of Inisherin, The Fabelmans.

** Moonlight (’17 — counterweight to “Oscars so white”), The Shape of Water (’18 — mousey spinster has sex and falls in love with the grandson of The Creature From The Black Lagoon), Parasite (’20, absurdly plotted, chaotically concluded social drama from plump South Korean nerd director), Nomadland (’21, rootless nomad shitting-in-a-bucket drama, directed by female Asian who went on to shit the bed with The Eternals), CODA (’22, hearing-impaired feelgood family drama that also won because everyone realized at the last minute that they really didn’t want Jane Campion‘s The Power of the Dog to win the big trophy.) When EEAAO wins Best Picture Oscar next Sunday (3.12) the Academy will have bestowed six identity-driven Best Picture Oscars over the last seven years.

I’ve often bitched about 4K remasterings looking too dark, but I didn’t feel this way about Shout! Factory’s recently released 4K Bluray of John Sturges‘ The Magnificent Seven (’60).

My immediate reaction was “whoa, this looks like celluloid!” I felt as if I was watching a screening at a Seward Street post-production house of a mint-condition 35mm print made from the original negative.” Shout! informs, in fact, that it’s a 2022 restoration and color grading using an existing 4K scan of the original camera negative.

I was spellbound during last night’s viewing — it seemed absolutely perfect to me. Excellent earthy colors, never too dark, spotless, fresh from the lab.

The Hi-Def Digest comparison footage below (the fast-draw contest between James Coburn and Robert Wilke) suggests that the disc is darker than it needs to be. It didn’t look that way to me. It struck me as more organic-feeling than previous versions, but that’s an enhancement in my book. I didn’t notice any teal tinting either.

TMS was shot by Charles Lang (Some Like It Hot, The Facts of Life, One-Eyed Jacks) in 35mm Panavision anamorphic. Lensing began in Mexico on 3.1.60. The Mexican village and the U.S. border town were built from scratch. The locations included Cuernavaca, Durango and Tepoztlán. Indoor filming was done at Mexico City’s Churubusco Studios.

HE commenter “freeek” has misspelled entertainment and is misreading the room when he says EEAAO is “aimed at teens brainfried by social media” — the target audience is an 80-20 blend of Millennials (born between 1981 and ’96, ranging from 27 to 42 years old) and Zoomers (hatched between 1997 and ’12, spanning between 10 and 25). But when the Oscar season finally ends and most of us can all blessedly forget about the Daniels for the rest of our lives, the title of this post will live on. Hopefully, I mean.

Francis Coppola’s Twixt, which I saw but can barely remember (sorry), was generally regarded as underwhelming horror film when it opened in 2011. But marketing-wise, the title was the main bugaboo.

The Wiki page says the original title was Twixt Now and Sunrise. An “authentic cut” version popped on Bluray on 2.28.23, and the title has added a B-apostrophe. It’s now called B’Twixt Now and Sunrise. Whatever.

I admire Coppola’s brass and obstinacy in continuing to tinker with this failed project. Lesser men would’ve thrown up their hands and walked away.

For what it’s worth today’s Oscar Poker podcast (3.4, 64 minutes) was and is my personal Jeff-and-Sasha favorite so far. I felt calm, level-headed and reasonably articulate. Feel free to listen.

I don't agree with this piece at all. EEAAO is the frontrunner, not the outsider. It is status quo for an industry that has become separate from the majority of the country. Bonnie and Clyde would be more akin to TAR or Triangle of Sadness. https://t.co/5mrvrZhxZe

— Awards Daily (@AwardsDaily) March 4, 2023

‘Bonnie and Clyde’ and ‘Everything Everywhere’: Sometimes the Oscar Season Game Changer Is Beaten by the Game https://t.co/K0HNz2Y47F via @variety

— Steven Gaydos (@HighSierraMan) March 4, 2023