It may be a blatant homage to the old Deep South with a joyously ignorant point of view when it comes to slavery. Its Atlanta premier may be an embarrassing example of disgusting racial discrimination in the form of excluding an African American actress with an Academy Award nomination from the guest list. It may position its main character, an independent modern woman who in essence wishes to stand on her feet yet it does this through openly justifying the chauvinistic “This is a man’s world” vantage point. However, despite all the odds, drawbacks and much more, after more than seventy years throughout which humanity had witnessed more social and cultural changes than it went through from the quest for first fire up until late thirties, “Gone With the Wind” still stands as a majestic piece of art. (While I am writing these sentences I have already begun to hear that unforgettable main theme by Max Steiner from my left side and I can visualize Scarlett and her father watching the sun set with Tara on the back drop on my right thus either its popular culture vivacity or my cinematic obsession per se is beyond questioning.)

GWTW, as this film (calling it a movie always feels like underrating to me) is usually referred to, constitutes a milestone in the history of cinema as a turning point on different levels. First of all, it paved way to super productions and made occurrence of oeuvres like Ben Hur, Lawrence of Arabia, etc. possible with all their grand scale, Russian novel-esque length in time and cast list as a compilation of almost every working actor above a certain line. Up until GWTT, movies more or less resembled extended versions of theatre productions with occasional “feel” of outdoorsy pieces, made to solely entertain its viewers as much as possible with the least probable effort both financially and artistically. However, GWTT still has impeccable production values that has passed the test of time with flying colors that refuses to become cheesy on the face of the CGI era.

Moreover; while it creates and leaps forward relentlessly when it comes to technicalities of cinema as the seventh art form, GWTT stays loyal to the age old rules of dramatization: It tells a good story and it tells it well. The doomed love triangle is there. One of the first anti-heroes of cinematic universe that we cannot help liking is smiling throughout the movie accompanied with his trade mark macho gaze, confronted by a reluctant hero as the voice of reason never to be heard by the heroine. Even the angelic character of high spirits tying all these personalities together stands as a moral center for the story. After many decades, it is still easy to relate to the motives of the characters and fun to watch their development throughout glimpses of human condition we call tragedy; love, hate, jealousy, disappointment, hope and despair. The feeling of catharsis is reached in every watching and the realistic yet hopeful ending satisfies on each viewing.

And along came all these super hero stuff where really big things endlessly collapse and collide with other big things while ridiculously clothed vigilantes perpetually fight for causes we can neither comprehend nor care about. In music it is rhythm without melody. In cinema, it is moving images without story. In the absence of real incidents happening to real people, it is getting harder and harder not to miss the time when films were made for/with real feelings, like GWTT.

Am I getting older? Is it difficult for my kind to keep up with this noisy century?

Let Rhett Butler respond on behalf of us here:

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

I want my films back.