Best Picture Winners: 1939 - 1940

Gone With the Wind (1939)

Even those who’ve never seen Gone With the Wind know who Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara are, and are familiar with Clark Gable’s famous exit line. But its running time and reputation are rather intimidating – how can it possibly live up to expectations as one of the greatest films of all time? Can it possibly be engrossing for its entire almost four-hour length? The answer to both questions is thankfully an unqualified, “Yes!”Near the eve of the Civil War Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh) learns that the man she loves, Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard), is going to marry another, Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). At the party announcing the engagement she briefly meets Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), who is instantly attracted to her, because he knows just what kind of troublemaker she is. Over the next several years the two meet and spar, as Scarlett manipulates, cons, and tricks those around her to get what she wants, only realizing too late what she wants out of life.Gone With the Wind is an engrossing soap opera in the best sense of the term. Leigh’s O’Hara is so initially off-putting because of her spoiled nature, which gets only worse, that it’s a testament to Leigh and the storytelling that we ultimately become so absorbed in the story. Butler and O’Hara are not nice people; they are selfish and arrogant – in short, perfect for each other. But they each have moments where they make admirable choices: O’Hara helping the pregnant Melanie escape the coming Union Army, and Butler helping the ladies return to Tara Plantation. The final hour sets up an emotional domino affect as tragedy after tragedy befall many of the main characters and the resulting emotional blows are crushing. By carefully setting up the characters and setting the events against a period of time that was devastating to the South’s wealthy class, the film reaps emotional dividends unlike few films before or since. These characters – good or bad – stay with you.Technically, the film is a marvel. Oscar’s first Best Picture in color, Gone With the Wind is visually breathtaking. The burning of Atlantic and the view of corpses littering the once prosperous Georgia are juxtaposed against images of glorious homes and beautifully clad ladies. Max Steiner’s main theme is instantly recognizable. And Hattie McDaniel’s Academy Award-winning turn as Mammy is an absolute gem – a servant whose wisdom and sassiness endears her to all.Gone With the Wind lives up to its status as one of the truly great movies. It’s a virtually flawless film that sweeps the viewer up in its epic story of love amongst the spoiled. It is truly one of Hollywood’s finest epics.

Rebecca (1940)

“Last night I dreamt of Manderlay again…”

Director Alfred Hitchcock’s only Best Picture win came with his first American film, Rebecca, based on the novel by Daphne Du Maurier. Beautifully photographed and acted, Rebecca is an intriguing non-supernatural ghost story, as a widower is haunted by the memory of his late wife, but not in the way we first believe.Joan Fontaine plays a paid companion on vacation with her employer in Monte Carlo when she sees Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) apparently contemplating suicide. There is a fast courtship and the two are married. Maxim takes his new bride to Manderlay, the glorious estate where he lived with his first wife, Rebecca. But any mention of or reference to her causes Maxim to erupt in anger. Already walking on eggshells, the new Mrs. de Winter meets Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson), the housekeeper, who we learn had a most peculiar attachment to Rebecca. But the circumstances surrounding Rebecca’s drowning are soon seen in a new light, when a sudden development shines a dark light on the relationship that existed between Maxim and Rebecca. Rebecca is for all intents and purposes a ghost story, albeit one without any physical apparition. Rebecca haunts everyone – her husband, her housekeeper and confidant, the new bride, and the man with whom she was having an affair. (As if to emphasize Rebecca’s continued dominance over her husband, Joan Fontaine’s character is not given a name. Maxim calls her “darling” or “you little fool”, while everyone calls her Mrs. de Winter.) They all talk about (at least for the first 90 minutes or so) in the vaguest terms, merely calling her beautiful, as if that was enough. Then a one-two-punch set of plot turns pulls the rug right out from under us, and the film turns even darker.The film remains fascinating today because of the performances: Joan Fontaine as the mouse who must find her own identity and strength; Laurence Olivier as the tortured Maxim whose miserable marriage masks an even darker secret; George Sanders as the flip and sinister lover of Rebecca; and, most especially, Judith Anderson’s chilling portrayal of the way-too-devoted housekeeper, who, in one terrifying scene, tries to convince Fontaine to commit suicide. All turn in excellent work, guided by a master who had already amassed an impressive body of work, but would make even better films over the next 36 years. The only quibble this viewer had with the film was the not-entirely-convincing courtship. Maxim is moody, somewhat verbally abusive, and withdrawn. Yet Fontaine’s character falls in love with him within days and agrees to marry him. Perhaps this was because he paid attention to her, took her for drives, and was nice to her. And it is certainly true that courtship was a different ballgame in 1940 than it is today. But the rushed romance feels more like a plot device to set up the events of the film than a genuine “love at first sight” or “he swept me off my feet” type of relationship. Still it’s ultimately a minor point since the film ultimately works very well. A surprising story, a top notch cast, and solid direction make Rebecca a must-see film.