By Eric M. Blake @hardboiledfilms
“Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. And when he isn’t around, he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”
It’s A Wonderful Life is near-universally accepted as a “true” Christmas movie. But when you really get down to it, the argument against Die Hard could just as easily apply here: The last act of the picture happens to be set at Christmastime, but it’s almost incidental, isn’t it? Couldn’t it just as easily have been set at Easter Week with the themes of “resurrection” and “new life?” But just because Jimmy Stewart shouts out “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” a few times, it’s a Christmas movie.
Really, if It’s A Wonderful Life is a Christmas film, so is Die Hard. And I’m happy to accept both. So, with that out of the way…
WHY IT’S A CONSERVATIVE FILM:
At first glance, it seems that if there’s anything political in this movie, it’s kind of lefty. After all, the villain is an evil rich guy who only cares about money.
But technically, no, he doesn’t care about money itself so much as power. And even with the whole “Evil Rich Guy” thing, as it turns out, the story’s really not that simple. There’s actually a beautiful bait-and-switch courtesy of a few clever lines of dialogue.
Mr. Potter—Corporatist:
As Peter Bailey, owner of Bedford Falls’s “Building & Loans” bank, discusses with our hero, his oldest son George, the villainous Potter’s motivations are surprising even for a capitalist—he’s unusual in what he’s greedy for:
“I thought when I put him on the board of directors, he’d ease up on us a little bit.”
“Oh, what’s eating that money-grubbing buzzard, anyway?”
“Oh, he’s a sick man. Frustrated, sick in his mind—sick in his soul, if he has one. He hates everybody that has anything that he can’t have. Hates us mostly, I guess.”
Potter, who owns his own bank, has a serious entitlement mentality. To him, it’s not about the money—as both Baileys often point out to him, he’s got more than enough to splurge for his lifetime. He’s got an obsession with control—for whatever reason, he just wants power and more power.
And if, even after all that, we still think he’s just a stereotypical Evil Greedy Capitalist, there’s a vital moment later in the film in which it’s indicated that he’s got some government officials at his beck and call, including a congressman.
It’s what happens in the era of big government: the more government gets involved in business, the more business gets involved in government. It has to. As Danny DeVito noted in Other People’s Money, the rules change, but the game’s still around. And the more rules and regulations, the bigger an incentive to cheat—by bribing and paying off the rule-makers.
And cheating seems to be the reason Potter can get away with renting out run-down slums. But take away the “pull,” and supply and demand win out: The best possible quality for the lowest possible price.
Neither of which Potter’s particularly interested in.
George Bailey—Long-Term Capitalist:
In the aftermath of Peter Bailey’s death, George appeals to the board of directors to keep the business running by pointing out how his father’s benevolent business practices made his low-income clients “better citizens…better customers.” And ultimately, he notes, the Building & Loan needs to stay around to provide competition against Potter.
Well, George himself has to take over the Building & Loan in order for it to remain in existence. From there, we see him offhandedly pitching his friend, Sam Wainwright, on a plan to set up a plastics factory in town at an old abandoned building, which would provide jobs for the community.
And when the Crash of ’29 hits, George is needed to keep everyone from turning to Potter in desperation. The film then goes on to indicate that he proves essential to helping the town weather the Depression, particularly by taking on a massive building project: a suburb called “Bailey Park,” which booms, sending Potter into a tizzy:
“Look, Mr. Potter, it’s no skin off my nose. I’m just your little rent collector…but you can’t laugh off this Bailey Park, anymore! Look at it…fifteen years ago, a half a dozen houses stuck here and there…. Look at it today: Dozens of the prettiest little homes you ever saw—90% owned by suckers who used to pay rent to you! Your Potter’s Field, my dear Mr. Employer, is becoming just that.”
Though Potter protests that the Baileys haven’t made a dime on it, the rent collector points out it isn’t that simple: “Every one of these homes is worth twice what it cost the Building & Loan to build! …One of these days, this bright young man is gonna ask George Bailey for a job!”
When it comes to innovation and pure goods and services, George is a better businessman than Potter can ever be, clout or no clout.
Sam Wainwright—Investor And Innovator:
“Hee-haw!”
Despite his eccentricities, George’s school buddy Sam Wainwright proves to be another great entrepreneur, running an international plastics manufacturing business. We see that he’s highly successful and took George up on his idea for the factory in Bedford Falls. As Joseph notes to Clarence, he even “made a fortune in plastic hoods for planes,” during WWII.
Thus, though it’s ultimately George who acts as the town’s line of defense against Potter, Sam serves as further proof that in this film, “rich”—even “super-rich”—does not equal “bad.”
Sam’s boorish, absolutely. But he’s a good man when it counts. And it counts a lot. He wires a big check in the end—far more than the Building & Loan needs to stay afloat.
A rich man. And a good man.
“The Richest Man In Town!”
The setting is Christmas, just after the end of World War II, and everything’s looking up. But then, disaster strikes. Through an unfortunate incident, Potter gets ahold of $8,000—of the Building & Loan’s money. And without it, there’s a sudden tragic reversal: the Building & Loan is facing bankruptcy, and George Bailey is about to face prison.
This leads to the famous sequence in which he tells his guardian angel, Clarence, that he wishes he’d never been born. But in the end, once he realizes his value and runs to his family filled with joy, he makes another discovery:
All the people he’s helped over the years have joined together to save the Building & Loan. Once again, in the long term, George Bailey has profited in a way that Potter never could. Being charitable and benevolent to others encourages them to be charitable and benevolent to you when you’re down.
Capra and Rockwell:
Frank Capra’s been given the same bad rap from cultural academia as Norman Rockwell for pretty much the same reasons. They say his work is “simplistic,” “sentimental,” and “black and white.”
But in both cases, they’re dead wrong. Rockwell was all too aware of the darker sides of American society. Recall his painting The Problem We All Live With, in which a black girl has to be escorted to school by the authorities because of the racist forces fighting against desegregation. The thing is, Rockwell was also a firm believer in society’s redemption—he had hope that things could get better because that’s how America works. Hence, his counterpart piece on race, New Kids In The Neighborhood, in which two white kids encounter two black kids who are moving in nearby. There’s a noticeable distance between them, but that divide is about to be breached by the kids’ mutual interest in baseball.
In Capra’s case, he frequently tackled the subject of corruption in our society. Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, for example, is centered on an eerily familiar scenario involving The Washington Machine.
But as with Rockwell, what the critics just can’t seem to bear about Capra is his sense of hopefulness that, in the end, the values and principles that make America what it is will help clear away the darkness. We’ve got problems, Capra and Rockwell tell us, but we’re better than them. And we’ll get better.
We’re Americans. It’s what we do.
Faith And Hope:
I’d be remiss if I didn’t bring up the faith element of this film. I’ve been reluctant to add movies to this list just for Christian themes, but if they’re going to make the series anyway, it’s a nice bonus.
In this case, God (inexplicably called “Franklin” in the subtitles) is shown as caring for George. Though He seems somewhat aloof (Joseph—the “patron saint” of fathers—has to inform him of the man’s plight), He’s still quick to bring in Clarence and assign him to the mission.
For George’s part, he has to learn that, for all the frustrations and tragedy he’s had to deal with, God does care for him—and has a plan and purpose for him, after all.
The Value Of The Individual:
It’s the most harrowing, powerful, and memorable part of the film—the climax, in which George is shown exactly why he was needed in Bedford Falls—and why it’s wrong of him to wish he was never born.
See, for the whole film, George has had ambitions and dreams, all of which he’s been prevented from following, for various reasons. Constant roadblocks appear in his path, keeping him in Bedford Falls. He’s used his many talents and skills to help people out, but he’s increasingly frustrated at being kept from pursuing his ambitions. And when the money debacle puts his whole business in jeopardy, he fears it’s all been for nothing. What was the point anyway? Everyone relies on him now, sure, but what if he was never around? Surely, there would’ve been someone else, right?
Well, as it turns out, no. Clarence dramatically shows George just how valuable he really is—and with it, he shows the value of every individual.
You don’t get a more Conservative/Libertarian message than that. Every human being has a value all his own as an individual—each with his own skills and talents. We just have to recognize that value and those abilities. From that, we find purpose in our lives and, with it, fulfillment.
For Bonus Points:
Early on, George is shown to be a bit of a control freak, even as a young boy lecturing Mary on why she should like coconuts on her ice cream. Perhaps this is his “tragic flaw,” the reason he can’t find satisfaction in the changing circumstances around him: He refuses to realize that life isn’t as simple as a plan—you have to mold your plans in accordance with the hands life deals you. It’s a game of poker, not chess.
And once again, the film’s surprisingly (if you’re a Lefty) interracial for a Golden Age film. Annie starts off as the Bailey family housemaid and thus initially comes across as the “typical” movie trope of the sassy black nanny but is later shown to be one of the matrons of the town along with George’s mother. She’s even one of those who dumps a boatload of money on George’s table in the end. (She was saving it for a divorce if she ever got a husband).
She’s not the only person of color in that ending. And that’s leaving aside the Italian and Irish and other then-“minority” folks we see throughout the film.
WHY IT’S A GREAT FILM:
It’s A Wonderful Life is remembered today as a classic. And that’s very ironic. Like far too many classics, it was shrugged off at its first release. In fact, it was a box-office flop that lost the studio money. And while it did get some love nomination-wise from the Academy, alas, it lost all those awards to The Best Years Of Our Lives. Bet you don’t know what that movie’s about.
And even for those cinephiles who do know (FYI: it’s about WWII veterans being down on their luck upon returning from the war), how many of you have seen it? At any rate, it doesn’t have even a percentage of the “staying power” of Capra’s “bomb.”
At any rate, it’s sad how many great films were so far ahead of their time. Citizen Kane comes to mind, of course. So do Blade Runner, The Shawshank Redemption, and Batman v. Superman.
Ironically, what saved Wonderful Life was an accidental slipping of the film into the public domain. With that—and considering at what point in the year the climax happens to be set—TV stations started airing it constantly during Christmastime. And so, for free, audiences found themselves exposed to a masterpiece and appreciated it at last.
Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey:
George’s life is overrun with irony. He’s filled with ambitions to get out of Bedford Falls and put his many talents to use doing big things, but he’s also got a big heart and a strong awareness that, over and over again, the town needs him at that moment. Maybe next time he’ll get out of here…or next time…or the time after that.
But it never happens. Over and over, he’s stuck staying to help everyone else out of a crisis—and he has to watch his brother Harry go off and succeed in his dreams on the school money George had intended to use for himself.
Amid George’s considerable business acumen keeping the town afloat and free from Potter, he never seems to notice that he is putting his talents to good, fulfilling use. Thanks to his aforementioned stubbornness, he refuses to change the plans he’s had since childhood to the point that he doesn’t even notice his own satisfaction in constantly sticking it to Potter and doing right by the citizens of the town.
Jimmy Stewart was the Golden Age master of playing the “everyman”—the regular guy with wants and dreams and vulnerabilities and insecurities. Stewart is excitable and nervous, earnest and, at the same time, confident and commanding enough to lead several Westerns.
And here, we see perhaps his greatest performance, incorporating his boyish enthusiasm, his deadpan humor, his simmering frustration, his enraged outbursts, and even his breaking down in tears at the end of his rope.
And then, at last, his explosion of joy, “giddy as a drunken man,” as he finally realizes the value of all he’s got.
Donna Reed as Mary:
There’s something about Mary. On the one hand, she seems to stiffen a bit whenever George goes on about his ambitions. She loves the town and perhaps doesn’t care for his bad-mouthing it in contrast to his dreams.
On the other hand, she does like his talking about giving her the moon. Her dream is to spend her life with George, whatever he does. She’d just personally prefer it to be in Bedford Falls, perhaps living in the long-abandoned mansion—fully restored, of course.
At any rate, Donna Reed and Jimmy Stewart have a delightful chemistry—and a playful humor that leads them into some bizarre moments, like that immortal bush sequence:
And we know darn well that their relationship is enough to make him forget his frustrations, even as he pours them out. He’s got passions, which he’ll channel one way or another.
George’s mother notes to him that Mary is “The kind that’ll help you find the answers.” Maybe she’s right about that.
The Rest Of The Cast:
Lionel Barrymore brings intimidating, snarky charisma as Potter, culminating in his darkly triumphant rant as he gloats to George over the latter’s seeming defeat.
Legendary spunky bombshell Gloria Grahame plays Violet, the town “bad girl” who isn’t really bad, she’s just drawn in that direction. And though she begins the film with something of a rivalry with Mary over George, she seems to accept defeat easily enough—and she’s got a heart of gold regardless. It makes the “Pottersville” sequence all the more meaningful: Violet’s sexy enough to make her fate in that other timeline inevitable but gold-hearted enough to make it tragic.
Thomas Mitchell plays the bumbling, lovable Uncle Billy—faithful to the end, even as he fears he’s responsible for the Building & Loan being brought to the brink of disaster. (By the way, you know that moment where he smashes into something off-screen and calls out, “I’M ALL RIGHT!”? That was 100% improvised—someone dropped some studio equipment, and Mitchell masterfully played it off as part of the scene!).
Ward Bond—veteran of many a John Ford film—plays Burt, the cop who ultimately bears witness to George’s famous outburst.
And Henry Travers plays Clarence—the rookie angel now assigned to George, to encourage him to find value in the life he’s led. He’s filled with a cheery innocence that comes across as bumbling, and yet, as he shows George the alternate reality in which George was never born, we see this fellow’s got a wise, reflective side, which is ultimately expressed in his final lesson for George.
Bailey’s Wish:
We experience the vivid intensity of the final act, as George, at the end of his rope, is about to attempt suicide.
And then, at last, comes the payoff of Joseph’s storytelling to Clarence, as the wingless angel pops up inconspicuously and proceeds to jump in the river himself, cleverly motivating George to put off his own suicide to “save” Clarence. Only then can they have a heart-to-heart, in which George finally shares his fear that everybody would’ve been better off without him ever being born. And then, Clarence says the immortal words:
“You got your wish. You’ve never been born.”
From there, George bears witness to everything changed: Bedford Falls is now Pottersville—a bustling town of sin and vice, where everyone is driven to cynicism and sass. The drugstore owner he worked for as a kid is now a homeless drunk, never having been saved by George from accidentally poisoning someone. His brother is dead, never having been saved by George as a child when he fell through thin ice and, therefore, never having become a war hero who saved untold lives. The Building & Loan is long out of business, and in its place is a dancing joint. There’s no Bailey Park because George wasn’t around to build it. Everything’s owned by Potter. George has no family—his mom is a bitter crone running a boarding house, and Mary is an old maid.
“You see, George? You really had a wonderful life. Don’t you see what a mistake it would be, to throw it away?”
Finally, George gets the message—he’ll take whatever happens to him as long as he lives again.
A Merry Christmas:
George is overjoyed beyond belief—crying out his joy and his thankfulness for everything and everyone around him. And upon arriving at home, Mary brings some tidings of her own: A miracle. The entire town has come together to contribute to helping the man who’s helped them so much, so often, handing over all the cash they can find to bail him out.
Sam wires a big check from overseas. And even the bank examiner and sheriff are up to contribute, the latter tearing up the warrant for George’s arrest with an eager chuckle.
Finally, Harry shows up to toast George, “The richest man in town!” And Clarence leaves his edition of Tom Sawyer with a note:
Dear George:
Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.
Thanks for the wings!
Love,
Clarence
And with a wink upward, George calls out, “Attaboy, Clarence.” All sing out “Auld Lang Syne,” and the curtain falls.
All’s right with the world. George has found his place and his purpose at last, and for tonight at least, all’s right with the world.
By The Way…
The cop’s named Bert, and the cabbie’s named Ernie. Yep. It’s a “hilarious in hindsight” situation—Jim Henson may or may not have been inspired by the film for the names of his iconic Sesame Street duo.
Originally, right after George calls out a “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” to Potter on his way home, Potter was supposed to get a visitation from Clarence, who would proclaim judgment upon him for his evil deeds as Potter topples over. While certainly just and satisfying, it was presumably judged a bit jarring in the change of mood and perhaps a bit dark for our cheery and happy-go-lucky Clarence.
Jimmy Stewart is actually counted among the ranks of Hollywood Conservatives. He also served in World War II, with It’s A Wonderful Life being his first role after serving his tour of duty.
Capra also did his part for the war effort with his legendary Why We Fight series of documentaries about exactly who we were fighting and why.
Oh, and that raven is a bit of a staple of Frank Capra’s flicks.
Buy the movie here. And stay Cultured, my friends.
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