Well, ah do declare, there’s one little missy in this here film who has some wonderful flair, and that’s Lady Bette Davis; really, she works her precious little ass out holding up this most beautiful piece of décor.
According to rumour, Daddy Mayer gave it to her since she had a tantrum because she didn’t get to play that O’Hara lady – fiddle-dee-dee! – so they made this one up to let her to make some comparable display of tiny princess arrogance.
You see, she’s a spoiled princess in need of a good woopin’ from her fiance, played by that delectable cavalier Hank Fonda – well, he’s more of a banker than a cavalier, but don’t let that fool you, he ain’t afraid of no fightin’, yessir – ‘coz she’s made up her mind to go to the big ball not dressed in virginal f Meanwhile, her old male admirer, portrayed by George Brent, hangs about looking wicked and periodically shooting anybody who crosses his path when Southron gentlemanliness is on the line.
Anyway, Hank is irritated with Missy Davis over the dress, but he only has himself to blame because he didn’t give her a woopin’ with a cane when advised – antebellum? Antediluvian! – so he walks away in a huff with the red of her fingers painted on his cheek, and he goes out and finds himself a Northern ninny to marry.
More courageous Bette just makes herself ever so beautiful to Georgie Brent, who becomes even more wicked towards Hank, causing all kinds of feudin’ and a’fussin’ and a’shootin’, and then there’s yellow fever breaking out and singing darkies lord, and it’s all just so exciting you almost die.
