A Note on Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life"

Merry Christmas! Christmas is incomplete, soulless without Frank Capra. I have written about "It's a Wonderful Life" before (see "Who is Frank Capra?", Dec. 2010), and I might start my own tradition of writing a few words about it every year. I love the man's work. I love this film and it has gradually embodied the Christmas message for me. I noticed different things about it on this viewing. Part of this is due to the fact that I introduced the film to my housemate who is from Lithuania and I was given the unique opportunity to see how well Capra's film could carry its story for her. As I wrote last year, "If it isn’t unusual, it’s at least uncanny when a very sweet message is delivered very thoughtfully, with such determination, in the form of a razor-sharp technique." I would like to add that it is uncanny when a sweet message can work beyond considerable generational, linguistic and cultural barriers. This draws attention to the holistic character and value of the film: though I wouldn't state that it is universal in its ability to reach out to people, since in real life Christmas doesn't mean anything to a whole lot of people in the world, I'm confident in saying that I haven't seen it fail yet for people who care about Christmas in, yes, the typical sorts of ways and find that their Christmas somehow isn't set in the most ideal conditions on a given year. "It's a Wonderful Life" is compelling, and healing. Jimmy Stewart is still a godsend. The formula came across as very bare bones to me this time - my brain kept an amused tab on that fact - but it just didn't matter because the story, the heart of it, always comes across as very full and richly rendered. Capra understands details. There's that crow that wanders around at those bad little moments. And let's not forget that Ernie the taxi driver parachuted into France. A Good Throwaway Sentence. It's full of America, and love, and a working man's paranoia, and it works. Does it have scenes! George and Mary's first dance, their rendition of the Charleston that takes them straight into a massive swimming pool, that really got me this year; it's got that extravagant buzz like Gene Kelly's roller-skate tap-dance scene to "I Like Myself". Of course, some scenes are constants for me. A fact: I always cry when Mr. Gower embraces the young George Bailey (the undelivered poison-capsule scene). Well, every time I step away from the film I could swear that I felt its magic for the first time; I can't understand how Capra managed to do this. I know technique has something to do with it, but the story does more than technique normally allows you to do. I also know that "Kind Hearts and Coronets" is a flawless film, a film that's executed flawlessly, and when I first saw it I thought it was one of the funniest and most wonderful films I had ever seen. On a second viewing, expecting that I would experience the same sublime level of hysterical laughter, I was surprised when I couldn't feel the same feelings as I did before, or any importantly new ones. Although I still hold it up as a fine example of cinema, its perfection makes it, in an oddly sacrilegious way I have to confess this, a little boring on subsequent viewings, much like "Dial M for Murder". Stale, even. You get most of the emotive/experiential value on a first viewing. It doesn't affect my praise and admiration for these two films (Kind Hearts is a favorite, and oh so English!), but I'm not going to say I am charmed and fascinated by them every time I watch them. However, every year I am charmed and fascinated by "It's a Wonderful Life", blindsighted with love for the damned film. I just want to thank Mr. Capra for making this film and for making us feel something good every time. It's a lasting American achievement, and you can't buy them kind of kicks.