It's a Wonderful Life

An angel, *not* a Christmas ghost.

Allow me to present a hypothesis that will probably come a surprise for the average moviegoer, especially during the holiday season when they will no doubt find themselves viewing Frank Carpa’s It’s Wonderful Life about 8,000 times—at least in bits and pieces as they surf the television. Here it is: It’s a Wonderful Life is not a Christmas film. It has never been a Christmas film, and it is almost a crime that it has been pigeonholed into the familiar “Christmas time” box that it has found itself in.

“What?” my readers ask. “What do you mean that this is not a Christmas film? It is THE Christmas film! What about the immortal image of George Bailey, having finally found meaning in his life, running up and down the streets of Bedford Falls, screaming ‘Merry Christmas!’ What about the famous ending, when they all gather around the Christmas tree, and one of the bells ring, and George looks up to the heavens and winks, ‘That a boy, Clarence?’ For heaven’s sake, what about the fact that it has played every Christmas on network television since before you were born?”

If you think the above paragraph has spoiled the film for those who haven’t seen it, I would argue that anyone who hasn’t yet seen It’s a Wonderful Life yet has absolutely no plans to. So I’ll spare you the typical plot summaries that often come with my reviews. We all know George Bailey, and mean ol’ Mr. Potter, and the significance of lines like, “I wish I was never born,” and “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings!” If, by some uncanny chance, you haven’t yet seen the film but eventually plan to do so, stop reading this review until you have seen it. Only wait until July to watch it: For the rest of us, the film has become such a staple at Christmas time that it seems impossible to separate one from the other. Better that you experience it on a clean slate, apart from its associations with holiday sap. It is a film much larger than its seasonal airings reveal.

But roll with me here: It’s a Wonderful Life is not a Christmas film. Yes, the film did open on December 25, 1946 (a decision made by the studio, not by the director). Yes, the final act of the film does take place at Christmastime, and the closing moments seemingly celebrate appropriate holiday cheer. But unlike Dickens’ A Christmas Carol or beloved family films like A Miracle on 34 th Street, White Christmas, or A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life is not about Christmas at all, but the workings of a bitter man’s soul before he comes to realize that his life has had purpose after all. That the movie’s closing scenes takes place at Christmastime is incidental to the storyline; George Bailey screaming, “Happy Easter, Mr. Potter!” might not have had the same ring to it, but the poignancy of the film’s themes would have remained.

Think about the scenes that stick out the most, the moments that bring us the most joy in their remembrance. Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey. The swing dance in the swimming pool. The flirtation in front of the old Granville house. “Why don’t you kiss the girl instead of talking her to death?” The policeman and the cab driver singing a duet. George Bailey finally telling Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore) what he really thinks. George’s pleas to God, and his subsequent encounter with the dim-witted angel Clarence (Henry Travers). “Please, God. I want to live again.” These scenes have nothing to do with Christmas, but rather with the personal revelations of George Bailey, who essentially finds himself in the Twilight Zone when he tries to commit suicide and end what he considers to be a miserable existence.

In fact, It’s a Wonderful Life has often been called Frank Capra’s darkest film, and certainly contains some of his most obvious dabbling with noir. Consider just about all of the above scenes, and the dark, almost foreboding sense of depressed desperation that Capra places on them. Particularly in the last act, which finally takes place at Christmastime, Capra inserts twisted, Hitchcockian elements that display less holiday cheer and more commentary of the depravity of those who choose to live lives of depression and gloom. How Christmas-like does Nick’s Bar feel, for example? Or the realization that poor Violet (Gloria Grahame) has become a prostitute? Or George’s confrontation with his mother (Beulah Bondi), who now runs a halfway house where she grovels in self-pity? Or George’s meeting with his brother in a cemetery—along with the ghosts of all of the soldiers who died alongside him?

Certainly this is not a depressing film, but Capra recognizes that he has to get George Bailey lost before he can save him. When George is finally saved, when he finally recognizes the value in his existence and his wife (Donna Reed) and his family and the lives that he never realized that he touched, he—and we—are ultimately overcome with gratitude and joy. But the journey is a difficult and sometimes treacherous one. That the only scenes that take place at Christmastime, sans the final holiday carol, are coated with darkness forces us to question the film's validity as a "Christmas movie." That these despairing moments, however, eventually bring George Bailey enlightenment confirms that this is certainly a movie about satisfaction and humanity. Even Capra agrees with my assertion; throughout his life, he was never satisfied with the film’s canonized place in the Christmas season.

It should also be noted that Jimmy Stewart, as George Bailey, has never been better than he is here. Throughout the film, he convincingly ages a few decades, from a youthful, bright-eyed college graduate to a sincere but disillusioned husband and father who realizes that he never had the chance to fulfill he dreams. The role is one of humor, obsession, gloom, and, finally, hope, and it would go on to be the part with which Stewart was recognized for the rest of his career. And this is appropriate: Has he ever had a greater, more convincing scene than when he sits at the bar, confessing to God, “I’m at the end of my rope”? Probably not.

Why, then, is the film placed into the Christmas season? Probably because it is such an unusual bird that no one knows where else to put it. Its story is one of both sincere human drama and often demented fantasy. Its characters are drawn as realistically as possible—warts and all, and some have considerably uglier warts than others. And its final act creates a surreal, supernatural environment that somehow and seamlessly fits with the realistic drama of the previous acts. In the meantime, there is plenty of snow, Santa masks, Christmas decorations, and a closing carol that resonates with holiday cheer, even though the true cheer is found in Bailey’s spiritual “rebirth.” But what the heck—let’s call it a Christmas movie, because we’re clever Hollywood marketers, and every movie must “fit” somewhere.

Please don’t email me with accusations of being a Scrooge: I’m not arguing that It’s a Wonderful Life should not be viewed at Christmas. In fact, it’s a perfect time to watch it, since family members will no doubt be gathered together anyway. And make no mistake: This is a great film to watch with the family. It is an inspiring confirmation of the joy of living, and in being satisfied with what you have. Perhaps only Akira Kurosawa’s Ikuri is more effective in conveying this theme in a completely sincere manner that doesn’t drip with false, Hollywood sincerity. What I am arguing, however, is that it is a pity that people feel compelled to watch it only in the month of December. Christmas is merely the date on George Bailey’s calendar, not the cause of his life’s turning point.

Here’s my Christmas present to you: A challenge to watch It’s a Wonderful Life in February, July, or October, and to experience its feel-good, life-affirming message more than just once a year. You’ll be glad you did.

Cast:
Jimmy Stewart: George Bailey
Donna Reed: Mary Bailey
Thomas Mitchell: Uncle Billy
Lionel Barrymore: Mr. Potter
Henry Travers: Clarence Oddbody
H.B. Warner: Mr. Gower
Gloria Grahame: Violet
Beulah Bondi: Ma Bailey

An RKO Picture. Directed by Frank Capra. Written by Capra, Frances Goodrich, Albert Hackett, and Jo Swerling, from the short story “The Greatest Gift” by Philip Van Doren Stern. Rated G. Running time: 130 minutes. Original United States theatrical release date: December 25, 1946.