I resisted Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life as long as I could. Odd, I know, for someone named Clarence.
It’s not that it isn’t a good film. It is, in fact, a great one. One that we revisit multiple times each Christmas season in the Moye household. No, I pushed back against the film because, like many before it, it’s been handed down to me as “GREAT CINEMA.” Rather than accept something as “GREAT,” I need to experience it for myself. I need to experience its greatness firsthand, and I was reluctant to do so for several decades. There’s something native in me that needs to rebel, I suppose.
My first taste of It’s a Wonderful Life came in 1986 when Saturday Night Live fashioned a “The Lost Ending” sketch. There, William Shatner introduces a supposed newly discovered ending to the classic film in which George Bailey (Dana Carvey) and the supportive residents of Bedford Falls beat the shit out of Old Man Potter (Jon Lovitz). At the time, I didn’t fully understand the significance and incredible catharsis of beating this crippled old man to near-death, but it was incredibly funny nonetheless.
Once my wife finally forced me to watch Capra’s film, I finally understand just how right and just this skit feels. SNL spoke to one of the major problems I’ve always had with the film, even if I fully understand that my issue missing the entire point of Capra’s original fable. More on this later, but first some level setting.
Based on the short story “The Greatest Gift” by Philip Van Doren Stern, It’s a Wonderful Life stars the great Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey, a young man who yearns to escape the confines of his small town and its obligations to explore the world. When his father dies, George becomes the driving force for the Bailey Savings and Loan, an independent bank free from the greedy hands of Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore) who wants to financially enslave the working class citizens of Bedford Falls in high interest debt. George never leaves town but seems contented enough to settle down with his wife (Donna Reed) and four children.
Trouble brews when George’s Uncle Billy (Thomas Mitchell) misplaces a large deposit (found, of course, by Mr. Potter). The potential shortage in the bank’s register threatens to ruin George, and he seriously contemplates suicide. Thanks to town’s prayers, a collective of angels decide to help George by sending angel-in-training Clarence down to Earth to prevent George from killing himself. Clarence dreams up an ingenious plot: lead George through a world in which he never existed at all and see how his life has touched everyone around him. Of course, George discovers he has a great life and doesn’t commit suicide. The town rallies to his defense and raises enough money to cover the loss, and Clarence the Angel gets his wings.
You know, the bit about the bell…
When I first saw the film, I felt such rage, a strange emotion stemming from a Christmas film, right?
Stewart is, of course, fantastic with another one of his great pre-Method performances. The story meanders creatively and really creates a deeply felt portrait of small town America in the post-World War II era. George Bailey’s life intersects briefly but memorably with dozens of vividly rendered characters, a hallmark of Capra’s films. Here, he avoids creating George Bailey as a superhumanly great man. Instead, he’s a genuinely good person given to, at times, moments of open and honest humanity. Meaning, he’s a good person, just not a saint.
It is because you care so much for George, I think, that his struggles and Uncle Billy’s bumbling of the bank’s funds sting bitterly. I understood George’s hopes and dreams. Coming from a similar environment myself, I understood his longing to escape the confines of his small town American upbringing. For me, the tragedy of the film happens early on when George is guilted into taking his father’s position at the Bailey Savings and Loan. Those around him take advantage of his basic decency and love for his father and, by association, what his father built. George is tempted many times throughout the film — a high-paying position with Mr. Potter, the opportunity to sell the bank, the honeymoon of his dreams — but he remains steadfast to his moral center. He stays anchored to Bedford Falls, something that still saddens me to this day.
So, even though the film ends on what an overwhelming number of viewers consider a happy ending, it still filled me with rage on several watches. Rage that George Bailey would effectively and most likely sacrifice his entire life’s wishes for others. Rage that Uncle Billy would seem to never be held accountable for his blundering. Rage that Mr. Potter would absolutely get away with stealing that Bailey Savings and Loan money.
That’s why the old Saturday Night Live “Lost Ending” plays so well. It provides the more modern revenge and retribution that the older, gentler, kinder original film fails to deliver.
Having seen the film nearly a dozen times now, of course I understand that’s not its point. Capra tells us that money doesn’t really matter. The only currency that matters in a Capra world is that you share with those closest to you. That’s the nicer sentiment to hold close from It’s a Wonderful Life, but it opens all kinds of uncomfortable questions about your own life as a viewer.
Have I touched anyone’s life?
Would anyone I know treat me the same as George Bailey?
Would they come to my defense so quickly and so freely?
Have I been a selfless person?
For me, the answers are all “I don’t know” or “Definitely not” (at least on that last one). I’d like to think I have had even a fraction of the impact on others that George Bailey has on Bedford Falls. I’d like to think someone would come to my aid if I were in trouble. I’d like to think I’m a good person. But am I? That, I do not know. Maybe I’ll never find out for sure. If I’m asking that question, then does it make me cognizant of my attempts at being a good person? The beauty of the film, ultimately, is that should serve to remind us all of the simplest moral lesson: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. So, we keep trying to be good and good to others. We fail often because we’re human, but we keep trying. Or we should anyway…
Because it’s far easier said than done, right? Particularly now when everything seems so broken, and many appear hopelessly divided. Your neighbors may people you cross the street to avoid, let alone help in their hour of need.
But at every Christmas, we watch It’s a Wonderful Life to remind us to celebrate decency. To revel in what critics used to call “Capra-corn” because his vision is pure sentiment and idealism. My initial, rage-filled views on the film faded with rewatches. I’ve grown up and moved beyond my lust for revenge and retribution against Mr. Potter (mostly). The older I get, the more and more I hope the steps I’ve taken in this world have been steps of goodness. I doubt anyone, aside from a very few, will ever look at my life and treat me with the same adoration as George Bailey, but I suppose the jury’s still out. Each day gives me more opportunities to broaden the circle of those who would rally to my cause, so I try my very best to follow in George’s example. I really do.
Now, I revisit It’s a Wonderful Life, a film I find legitimately great, and its vision of aspirational decency brings me to tears.
