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Muskehound

And Not A Single Damn Was Given That Day

Last night I went to see Gone with the Wind, which I had somehow managed never to watch, at the BFI Southbank with my mum's cousin. I hadn't really taken in the fact that it is quite literally four hours long with intermission, which was a bit much on a weeknight, but it rattles past at a cracking pace.

It fell off a bit in the second half, when things stopped catching fire and blowing up and everyone kept dying, and perhaps also because by this point I'd been wedged into row F of NFT3 for two hours without any supper.

But wow, what a brilliant film! The characters, the dialogue, the way the costumes and scenery subtly changed as the years passed! I'm often a little afraid of watching much-loved classics (I haven't seen Citizen Kane either), but I'm glad I caught up with this one.

My favourite bit was when [Spoiler (click to open)]Clark Gable picks Leslie Howard up in his arms and carries him into the bedroom. Cor.
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Comments

Are you sure you don't mean Clark Gable?
Damn, yes! It's because we were talking about sexy leading men during the interval! Will correct.
So H and I both love Cary Grant? Why aren't I surprised.