“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making
other plans.” – John Lennon
Words of wisdom uttered 35 years too late for George
Bailey to take them to heart. Who, upon reaching middle age, hasn’t felt that
sense of loss at having failed to achieve the ambitions of youth? Who actually
fulfills all the dreams he has before growing up and settling into a life of
adulthood? And who among us truly appreciates the riches we have when all we
can see are missed opportunities? It’s a story at least as old as the
Industrial Age, when increased leisure time for most people meant the possibility
of doing things most people would never have dreamed about. George Bailey has
become an enduring cinematic character because he embodies all those universal
characteristics of failed ambitions and dreams deferred or lost. George
believes his life is disappointing and sad. This is just another aspect of his
universality. For it sometimes takes an outsider to point out just how fulfilling
our lives truly are – in fiction anyway.
Frank Capra was the quintessential director of small town
America on film in the 30’s and 40’s. His career included a string of hits
through the 1930’s, films that are now considered part of the American film
canon: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington; It Happened One Night; and Lost Horizon. It’s a Wonderful Life in 1946 was his last great film, made right
after WWII, a time when Capra devoted himself to service by enlisting in the
army and directing several documentaries in the Why We Fight series. His popularity waned after the war most likely
because audiences were no longer interested in the idealism and optimism that
his pictures engendered. Film noir and movies with darker subject matter became
the norm in the late 40’s. It’s a
Wonderful Life didn’t quite succeed as a story of optimism amid a world
that was reeling from the effects of a devastating world war. It was critically
acclaimed, but achieved disappointing popularity. However, as idealistic as the
movie is, it is a film that takes us to some dark places.
As a child and a young man, George dreams of getting out
of tiny Bedford Falls and traveling the world. He is so blinded by his sporting
ambition that he fails to see the love of Mary staring him in the face, telling
her he can’t wait to skip town and see Rome, Athens, and other exotic locales.
He never imagined leading the life of an ordinary man – getting married, buying
a house, and having children. These were dreams I had in youth. I too thought of
myself as someone whose preferred lifestyle wouldn’t match up with that of a
husband and father. Yet here I am, after doing a fair bit of traveling and even
living abroad for a time, with a wife and child. Are there moments when I
consider the things I can’t do because of the choices I’ve made? Of course. But
that kind of thinking gets you nowhere. And the truth is, even if I had chosen
differently and were a bachelor now, I might have different regrets.
George can not see this in himself. He doesn’t look
around and see Mary (Donna Reed), the beautiful wife who loves him, and four
adoring children. He doesn’t look at a town full of people who respect him and
value the Building and Loan that his father managed until his death, one event
among many that kept him from going to college and seeing the world. When
George looks around he sees a provincial life, a situation he got saddled with
by circumstances not of his own choosing. And when things start to go badly at
work and a large sum of money goes missing and the greedy land tycoon Mr.
Potter (Lionel Barrymore) threatens to expose him to the banking investigator,
George goes to pieces and puts himself on the verge of suicide.
From here the film doubles back on its opening, which
started with angels discussing George’s life and his need for saving. We know
from the outset that George is going to find himself in dire straits and that
an angel named Clarence (Henry Travers), who reviews George’s life from the
time he saves his younger brother’s life in icy waters until he’s about to meet
his own demise in icy waters of a winter some 25 years later. The mystery is
not in whether or not George’s life will go as he hopes, but how Clarence will
convince him that his life is worth living.
James Stewart was the classic Everyman actor, and as
George Bailey he brings that quality in spades. He had already played the
idealist lead for Capra in Mr. Smith Goes
to Washington, but he seems to draw on his experiences as a veteran of WWII
to reach deep inside George and bring out his inner turmoil. Consider the scene
when he really begins to come apart at the seams after learning of his company’s
missing $8000. The movie transitions from early scenes that play as a cross
between romantic and slapstick comedy – George and Mary fall into the school
pool as the gym floor opens beneath them; Mary loses her robe on the walk home –
to something altogether more sinister. George returns home to his family
preparing for seemingly inane Christmas activities and everything pales in
comparison to the emotional devastation he’s facing. Later he stumbles around
town drunk before contemplating ending his life. As the world closes in on
George, so does the framing and cinematography, which mirror the claustrophobia
he feels until Clarence comes down and gives George the gift of life.
That gift – giving George the chance to see what Bedford
Falls would be like if he’d never been born – is somewhat borrowed from Dickens,
but it works because it’s such a shock to the system. Our lives touch so many
more than we realize. Without George in the world, his brother Harry (Todd
Karnes) drowns as a boy and so is never able to save a transport ship full of
soldiers in the war. Without George, the pharmacist Mr. Gower accidentally
poisons a sick child and winds up a poor vagrant. George witnesses all these
changes and absences until the real stickler, the nail in the coffin, of
discovering Mary to be an old maid and…a librarian! Watching the movie by
modern standards this is quite the quaint notion, but in the film it’s treated
as shocking and chilling to the bone.
Despite this antiquated moment and other dated
conventions – like the conclusion bringing together every major character to
briefly wrap up all the loose ends in a single tidy scene – the film retains a
universal message. And it’s a message that hasn’t aged a bit. It is as relevant
nearly seventy years later as it was then.
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