“I would rather be what God chose to make me than the most glorious creature that I could think of; for to have been thought about, born in God's thought, and then made by God, is the dearest, grandest and most precious thing in all thinking.”
― George MacDonald
It's a Wonderful Life is my favorite film of all time. Because of this, the idea of reviewing it has always intimidated me. It's an incredibly rich film. Every time I watch it (an annual Christmas tradition in my home) I glean some new insight from it. On the other hand, it's also a film that has become so ingrained in the culture that one fears having nothing new to say. With that said, though I feel a little like George Bailey sitting in Mr. Potter's chair, I think I have finally reached a point where I am ready to take a crack at it.
Much has been made of the films social commentary and this is what most attracted me to it in my college years. The film champions communitarian values. The people of Bedford Falls are bound together by both George and his father, who, through their service to the community, emerge as leaders of it, even if they are never formally recognized as such. In contrast to this, Mr. Potter's authority in the community arises from his exploitation of it. He offers them quick answers while the Bailey's encourage their clients to invest in their community and support one another.
What's at the heart of the film is George's redemption. The film, like the Philip Van Doren Stern short story on which it is based, draws heavily from Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Both stories feature a protagonist who is saved by heavenly intervention but, while Ebenezer Scrooge is an unfeeling man, totally absorbed with his own pursuit of wealth, George Bailey consistently makes selfless choices throughout the story. He hardly seems a man in need of a miraculous conversion experience yet in the films climax he is on the brink of suicide and would surely be damned if Clarence Odbody didn't intervene.
An attentive viewer will not be surprised by this. Throughout the film George displays his dissatisfaction with his state in life. It's worth noting that he displays an acerbic, even cynical attitude towards others, even as a young boy. This is most clearly apparent in the scene where he "proposes" to Mary, treating her attempts to woo him with bitter contempt. When I watched the film last year, I actually concluded that Mr. Potter was right in some sense, that despite all his virtuous acts, George hates his job, hates his life and hates himself. But I don't think this is quite right.
Despite his frustrations, George does seem happy through most of the film. He clearly loves his wife and his family and also shows affection for Uncle Billy and for his clients at the Building and Loan. His real fatal flaw, his Achilles heel, is his self-will. Throughout the film George is confronted with conflicts between his own desires and his conscience: when he takes over his father's business instead of going to college, when he continues to run it to allow his brother a lucrative job opportunity, when he spends his honeymoon money to save the building and loan. What he is really facing in each instance is God's will. In each case he make the right choice but in each case he loathes doing so. He feels trapped and embittered.
Finally, when confronted with the possibility of prison, George is brought to the breaking point, though even here he opts to take the fall and protect Uncle Billy. He turns to prayer (though, in his own words he's "not a praying man") but, like all worldly men, is focused on his temporal, financial troubles. Clarence shows him how insignificant these things are in the final analysis. Seeing what his town would be like without him, George realizes how much he has accomplished staying at home and choosing against his own desires. He finally recognizes how God's will has shaped his life.
His conversion is reminiscent of that holy fool St. Francis, who was struck down on his way to achieve earthly glory in battle, only to find a more lasting glory in self-abasement. As George runs down his stairway, laughing and carrying his children on his back, to be arrested by the police, one is also reminded of Christian martyrs going to their death with joy and serenity. It's at this moment, when George, having placed himself in God's hands, has rendered himself immune from any earthly misfortune that he is saved from it.
Confronted with the daunting task of portraying a man's entire life, Capra's script (co-written by Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett, Jo Swerling, Michael Wilson, and Dorothy Parker) accomplishes this with wonderful economy. It is broken into a series of integral moments from George Bailey's life, each one revolving around a moral decision: whether he should confront Mr. Gower about the poisoned drugs he's made; whether he should take over his father's business or let it be closed down; whether he should marry Mary Hatch, further tying him down; whether he should accept Mr. Potter's job offer, which would help him support his family and allow him a more exciting "important" lifestyle.
The scene from George's childhood, where we are introduced to his future wife, establishes his worldly ambition, his great admiration for his father and his proclivity to do the right thing. We also see here Capra's uncanny ability to meld drama and comedy. The scene begins innocently enough, with Mary and Violet flirting with a young George Bailey, who boasts of his intentions to be an explorer, but it quickly takes a dark turn as an obviously perturbed Mr. Gower becomes increasingly verbally, and finally physically abusive to George, who has discovered, unbeknownst to the old druggist, that the capsules he's been tasked with delivering are poisoned. This progression from levity to drama can be seen throughout the film: from the slapstick hilarity of the high-school dance to the somber aftermath of Pa Bailey's funeral or from the joyous anticipation of Harry's return as a war hero to the (nearly) tragic climax of the film that feels like something ripped from the Twilight Zone.
Franks Capra's direction is truly distinguished. Take, for instance, his use of use of symbolism: in Potter's office we see a rather ostentatious bust of Napoleon and an oversized portrait of himself, symbolizing his sense of self -importance. By contrast, in George's office there is a picture of his father, a man George strives to live up to (sometimes despite himself). There is also the model bridge which he smashes in frustration in the film's climax, symbolizing his frustrated ambitions (recall that he talked of building bridges "a mile long" earlier in the film). Another symbol of George's frustration is the broken knob on the banister, a minor annoyance that seems to emphasize the lack of control he feels.
Perhaps Capra's greatest strength was his ability to cast actor's well suited for their roles and to get great performances from them. In It's a Wonderful Life he paints a convincing picture of a small-town American community, and the strength of the cast goes a long way to selling that image. The film is filled with experienced character actors and the casting is pitch perfect, from Thomas Mitchell as Uncle Billy to Frank Albertson as Sam Wainwright to Ward Bond as Bert the cop and Frank Faylen as Ernie the taxi driver to Gloria Grahame as the flirtatious Violet. Todd Karns is the embodiment of the all-American boy as Harry Bailey, who seems to attain the fame George so longs for without even trying. Who but the great Lionel Barrymore could have played Mr. Potter? Who could imagine anyone other than Henry Travers as Clarence Odbody? Who would have thought that H. B. Warner (best known for playing Jesus in The King of Kings) would make such a convincing old drunk? I'd be remiss not to mention Beulah Bondi who plays Ma Bailey with affection and (in the alternate reality where George wasn't born) antipathy. Samuel S. Hinds' Pa Bailey, though only appearing briefly, looms large over the whole film. Finally, Bobby Anderson does an admirable job in the unenviable role of the younger George Bailey.
Even as a young child I was mesmerized by James Stewart's acting in this film. His career defining performance came at the end of his tour of duty in the Second World War. The actor reportedly felt nervous about stepping behind a camera for the first time in 5 years but you would hardly know this from watching the film. He brings a sense of darkness to the role that audiences hadn't really seen before but also channels the characters innate decency and heroic self-sacrifice. The relative newcomer Donna Reed holds her own as Mary Hatch, whose devotion to George, and stalwart support of him, ultimately lead to his redemption.
All of these qualities, the efficiency of the script, the deft hand of Capra behind the camera and the brilliance of the performances, particularly from Stewart and Reed, are on full display in the scenes leading up to and immediately preceding George's marriage. The later scenes serve as a sort of climax for George's rivalry with Potter. George, by using the money he had saved for his honeymoon, is able to prevent his patrons from falling into Potter's hands. It is not insignificant that Mary is the one to suggest this. By participating in his heroic sacrifice she shows herself a companion not just in their marriage but in his work for the community. This is solidified in the following scene where, together, they welcome the Martini's into their new home.
The earlier scene is, perhaps, even more crucial. We see George brought to a real crisis as he is drawn by his mother, by his attraction to Mary, and by his circumstances, to stay in Bedford Falls and put down roots, but he rebels against this with every inch of his being. In a wonderfully acted moment between Stewart and Reed, he ultimately gives in, though he resists and protests every step of the way. As C. S. Lewis once observed, "The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation."
