Hollywood (1939)

That Scarlett Woman [Continued from page 25] men in a battle of wits." He gave his sudden smile. "This doesn't please men so much." At that instant from one of the trailer dressing rooms stepped a figure in black and brown, with sideburns and an 1863 hair-do. He turned out to be the Rhett Butler of the piece — Clark Gable. "Hi-yo, Silver!" Gable cried with an ebullience rather refreshing amid the surrounding ante bellum formality. "Be right with you!" Howard answered, and with his knuckles he began to evoke the sound of galloping hoofs from the seat of a chair. But before Gable spoke further, Vivien Leigh came tripping back across the greensward with Olivia de Havilland. Director Victor Fleming shouted an order. And, presto! Before you could say, "Atlanta, Jawgyuh," the action moved to the interior of Twelve Oaks. This house was a little more elaborate than Tara, the home of Scarlett; though Tara was, you may be sure, no shack. For one thing, Twelve Oaks had a huge dining room, of the proportions demanded by Southern hospitality, and on its carved serving tables there stood — flashing in the sun from the long windows — quantities of antique silver plate, every item a collector's piece. Twelve Oaks, moreover, had a lightly curving and wholly magnificent double stairway; a marvel of architecture, springing from the hall in a stately flight of steps, to divide at the landing as it soared to the upper floors. Along the stair wall hung $6,000 worth of paintings, which, with the silver, were closely guarded while the film was in production. Mounting the stair, you found, off the upper corridor, a bedroom with a lofty ceiling and an enormous four-poster bed. On the bed and on sofas, twenty-four girls (shedding their five-foot hoop skirts) took an afternoon nap following the barbecue, while the gentlemen smoked, wined, and talked downstairs. It was from this bedroom, and down this stairway, that Scarlett had stolen while the other girls slept, to propose marriage to Ashley. With the strange, higgledypiggledy movie methods which come out all right in the end, the proposal scene had already been shot before the start of the barbecue which, in the plot, precedes it. But before they could shoot another scene in the library, they had to clean up the fireplace. It was full of broken china. At the conclusion of the touching and tense love sequence — the love, alas, being all on Scarlett's side — Ashley had in embarrassment and pity left Scarlett in the library. When the door closed, she snatched a costly Limoges vase, and with all her strength dashed it on the hearth. To her consternation, at the sound of the crash a man rose from the big chair in which he'd been an unintentional eavesdropper. Rhett Butler! He'd heard everything! Scarlett glared as if she could have murdered him. It's a wonder, come right down to it, that she didn't. ■ With the china swept up, however, and another library interior taken — this time with ladies and gentlemen saying goodbye and what a nice time and do drop over to see us soon — the entire company scampered to another spot where stood the "bazaar" set. Yes, the Atlanta ladies were holding a bazaar to raise money for the wounded Confederate soldiers. The scene was a perfect glory of color. It contained bright flags (Confederate, of co'se) ; the yellow, blue, red and green uniforms of Confederate officers who belonged to various outfits such as the Louisiana Zouaves and the (Confederate) President's Guards; the red shirts of the Atlanta Fire Department, a swanky volunteer organization of socialites; and the ladies' silk and velvet gowns. The fashionable feminine colors that year were emerald, magenta, puce, turquoise, gamboge and aquamarine. To decorate the walls and booths, the studio cornered the Hollywood supply of smilax. In dramatic contrast with the brilliant dresses about her, Scarlett appeared in the black, enveloping widow's veil which she wore for Charles Hamilton, though she detested it. Scarlett O'Hara, according to Margaret Mitchell's book, had both French and Irish blood. Her jaw was square but her chin pointed; her eyes were green as jade, her thick, black lashes curled upward and her thick, black brows slanted up at the outer ends. Her skin was the flawless magnolia white so prized by Southern women, her hair was dark, and her waist (thanks partly to tight lacing) measured seventeen inches. To a remarkable extent, Vivien Leigh's features answer this description. As she prettily coaxed bazaar patrons to buy this and that useless gewgaw, she was Scarlett to the life. It took Margaret Mitchell seven years to write Gone With the Wind: it was after a two year search that Selznick selected this English player who appeared in Fire over England and A Yank at Oxford for the leading role. "She's in mourning," the bazaar gossips murmured as Scarlett's widow's veil floated energetically about here and there. "She can't dance." But — when Rhett paid $150 in gold for the privilege of leading the reel, and selected Scarlett as his partner, she danced airily out on the floor. Atlanta shuddered in horror. | Heigh ho. Neither Scarlett nor anyone else danced in Atlanta when subsequent scenes arrived. For war came to Atlanta, to the city built on the forty acres behind the Selznick Studio. From old photographs, a dozen street of the town were reconstructed with a painstaking fidelity to detail. Even the street signs were faithfully reproduced. And, with an equally painstaking fidelity to detail, the dozen streets were promptly ravaged by shot and by fire. Among other items, the entire Atlanta railroad yards were copied. Copied to be burned down. i Never again, perhaps, will such V?.V«y!fSr a history-making travel bargain ^^^*^ be offered. 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