Cancel culture applied to movies like Gone With the Wind lacks nuance

There are reasons behind this activity - some good, some bad; some justifiable, some less so - but one of the disturbing things about this, and all "cancel culture", is the haste and the lack of thought and appreciation of nuance and history that's displayed. Cries of "privilege" seem merely attempts to silence discussion: they advance nothing.

Gone With the Wind has been targeted for its depiction of some of the African-American slaves as servile and ridiculous (especially Butterfly McQueen's Prissy and her squealing "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies") ad for romanticising the culture of the South. While there's no defending slavery, and the conditions depicted in the film are sanitised, Hattie McDaniel's Mammy was a dignified character - much more sensible than the flighty, capricious Scarlett and she was the first African-American to win an Oscar, for best supporting actress.

Trying to obliterate the past doesn't erase what happened, or help anyone learn from it. And Gone With the Wind is historically important and is more than just a film about slavery.

Latterly, Quentin Tarantino has faced criticism from black filmmaker Spike Lee for his use of the "n" word in films. While it's fair to argue that the word is different when used by black people, does that mean we should toss aside, say, Pulp Fiction (which, despite its depictions of foul-mouthed, violent criminals, actually comes across as a story of redemption for both black and white characters)?

Song of the South was removed from circulation by Disney decades ago so many have only heard of it rather than seen it to be able to make their own judgment. It's understandable that showing African-American characters such as the storytelling Uncle Remus as happy workers for Southern whites might be uncomfortable but the film does not depict slavery: it's set in the post-Civil War era. Also worth noting is that James Baskett, who played Uncle Remus, received an honorary Oscar for his performance and that McDaniel was also in the film. Sadly, it's also worth noting that neither McDaniel nor Baskett could attend the premieres of their films, which were both held in Atlanta, because of segregation laws.

Will To Kill A Mockingbird be targeted for the crime of being a "white saviour" narrative, despite the inescapable reality that in 1930s small-town Alabama, there were not likely to be any lawyers of colour? Atticus Finch is surely a fictional example of what would now be called an "ally", a character to admire rather than demonise?

Al Jolson has long been a scapegoat for the reviled "blackface" performance tradition.

He was far from the only artist to perform thus in films - see also Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, Eddie Cantor and Fred Astaire, for example - or on stage. But the historical significance of the The Jazz Singer in helping popularise talkies helped focus attention on him.

Jolson was far from perfect - egomaniacal, often selfish - but he was no racist and was not regarded as such in his time. A leading figure of the Harlem Renaissance, James Weldon Johnson, praised Jolson for helping to promote the production of Garland Anderson's Appearances, the first play by a black writer to reach Broadway.

Among the 20,000 mourners at Jolson's funeral in 1950 was Noble Sissle, a black songwriter and performer who came as the official representative of the Negro Actors' Guild. And black dancer Jeni LeGon said, "In those times, it was a 'black-and-white world'. You didn't associate too much socially with any of the stars. You saw them at the studio, you know, nice - but they didn't invite. The only ones that ever invited us home for a visit was Al Jolson and [his wife] Ruby Keeler."

On the subject of blackface, The Black and White Minstrel Show ran as a theatrical show and on British TV for 20 years, finishing in 1978, which seems amazing now, both for racial insensitivity and for sheer anachronism - its long popularity seems unfathomable now.

Sidney Poitier was the first black actor to win the best actor Oscar (for the 1963 film Lilies of the Field) and in 1967 had three major films - In the Heat of the Night, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? and To Sir, With Love - in which he starred as intelligent, serious, non-stereotypical characters. He did, perhaps, become typecast as a noble character - will he be condemned as an "Uncle Tom"? Later in his career Poitier showed a less serious side, directing and starring in comedies.

Like people, films are a mixture of good and bad. We've already lost a significant proportion of cinema history: getting rid of more is not a good idea. It's more important to do good things rather than just make gestures. How many current ideas and practices will be deemed unacceptable in a few decades' time?