Posts Tagged ‘Victor Fleming’

Mean Girls Monday: Vivien Leigh is a priceless, timeless international treasure for ever and always

July 11, 2011

God, her expressions. It’s me and Vivien Leigh to the mortuary, I swar to gar.

Gone With the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939).

Not my favorite of my Vivs-ohs’ films, but it’s a movie that’s totally up there on my general list of greatness, because of Viven Leigh and Clark Gable, not those above two or their characters. I think I’ve mentioned before that my love of GWTW comes from a weirder place than the traditional romantic little girl with collector’s plate of the burning of Atlanta standpoint.

As for that scene, the original lines are dangerously close to the Mean Girls script enhancement. Scarlett calls her a “simp,” not a slut — but you know she was thinking it. Besides, Melly is a simp, and Ashley is her cousin. It’s like, Jesus Christ, Scarlett, can you move to Atlanta any faster? Gtfo of Clayton County. Bush league down there.

I was searching my drives for another GWTW screencap and stumbled over the above, which I used in the first Mean Girls Monday ever. Synchronicity! But my lack of a wider range of stills from this movie is a scandal. I got a phat sexy remastered collector’s edition for my dad last Christmas, and as far as I can tell he hasn’t watched it. Six months on makes it fair game, right? I might nick it and screencap it. Maybe give it its own category. Big job, but it’s food for thought.

Question for discussion: Would you move to Atlanta if the boy you liked married his cousin? Explain.

Extra credit: Without looking it up, what was Victor Fleming’s less commercially successful film of 1939 which has come to gain iconic status?

(Stop looking it up. You know this.)

Mean Girls Monday: Inaugural Edition feat. Gone With the Wind

March 8, 2010

Last week was a rough one, so I asked my husband to mail me some of the DVDs sitting around our house in Portland and he graciously did. One of them was Mean Girls (Mark Waters, 2001), a movie that I am not ashamed to call a guilty pleasure. Introducing … Mean Girls Monday! A maybe-weekly feature directly or indirectly referencing the film. Because I can.

First Edition. What if every movie were Mean Girls? As Picard would suggest, make it so. This is a wonderfully dorky meme that’s been floating around where people juxtapose lines from Mean Girls with screencaps from other flicks and I’m loving it. Thought I’d kick it off with a little classic Gone With the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939).


(God, Vivien Leigh’s faces are so priceless. I’m planning an upcoming The Way They Were on Vivien and Laurence Olivier. Mad love for my Vivs for-evvvv-errr.)

This has been your first Mean Girls Monday!

Rainy days and Mondays: Inspiration Station and Movie Moment — Wizard of Oz edition

January 18, 2010

Sheets of rain keep falling here. It’s pretty when a little sun comes through, it makes it look like glass. But otherwise it’s overall a very dingy scene and it bums me out even more than a rainy day normally would (I actually like the rain, mainly) because I am waiting to hear from my husband about his grandmother. She’s not expected to live much longer than the next few days; when she passes away, I will fly to Portland to be with him and the family. I simply can’t let him go through that alone, and I would never disrespect my in-laws by even considering not going, to say nothing of the fact that I would like to say goodbye to a woman in whose home I lived (we rented from them once they moved to a retirement center), whose son I spent a great deal of time with, and to whose grandson I got married. It will be difficult, but it has to be done.

So today, being that it was raining cats and dogs and I think I even saw a ferret, and as kidlet had a school holiday, I wanted to have special bonding time before I travel without her. We are almost never separated, so I’m anxious about that as well.

We decided to make chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches (total rainy day food) and watch us some uplifting movies. First up was The Wizard of Oz, and it started my wheels turning about the books and about the pluses and pitfalls of escapism.


Folklore, legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages, for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories fantastic, marvelous and manifestly unreal. The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations.

Yet the old time fairy tale, having served for generations, may now be classed as “historical” in the children’s library; for the time has come for a series of newer “wonder tales” in which the stereotyped genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and blood-curdling incidents devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale.

Modern education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable incident.

Having this thought in mind, the story of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” was written solely to please children of today. It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out.

L. Frank Baum

Chicago, April, 1900.

(The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Introduction.)

A lovely sentiment, but I find Baum’s assertion as to the lack of nightmares and heartache in the final product of the Oz books — of which I am one of the world’s staunchest and most highly devoted fans — intriguingly debatable. If I have time later this week, I will try to have a movie moment with Return to Oz, which will shed some light on what I mean.


Holly Owens as Dorothy in the Emerald City, for Tarina Tarantino’s “My Pretty” collection.

— Can you even dye my eyes to match my gown?
— Uh-huh.
— Jolly old town!

(The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939)).


Kate Moss as Dorothy Gale by Francois Nars.

“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn’t there, then I never really lost it to begin with.”

Did You Know? … two of the images in this post are pictures of my daughter at Christmas. She gets a new pair of ruby slips every year.