We might as well give up

 

One of our perennial Christmas traditions involves viewing the 1946 film It’s a Wonderful Life. A photodrama so disarmingly simple, yet it continues to be considered one of the greatest films of all time. It was nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, and has been recognized by the American Film Institute as one of the 100 best American films ever made. It was ranked No. 1 on the American Film Institute’s list of the most inspirational American films of all time.

The movie’s Italian-born American film director, Frank Capra, who was the creative force behind some of the major award-winning films of the 1930s and 1940s, revealed that It’s a Wonderful Life was his favorite among the many films he directed and that he screened it for his family every Christmas season. It was also lead actor, Jimmy Stewart’s favorite film, among the some sixty-eight films in which he appeared.

In 1990, the film was designated as “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant” and added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress. In 2002, Britain’s Channel 4 ranked It’s a Wonderful Life as the seventh-greatest film ever made in its poll “The 100 Greatest Films.”

Leonard Maltin, film historian and contributor to the It’s a Wonderful Life Book, acknowledged, “As I get older, I value it all the more because of what it says about life and the road not taken and what really matters when it all is said and done.”

What is remarkable about It’s a Wonderful Life is how well it holds up over the years; it’s one of those ageless movies whose message enriches over time.

Commented one viewer, after watching the movie this past Christmas, “This is the all-time greatest film about America’s heart, a film you can never forget. Hard work, faith in God, sacrifice, charity, patriotism, community, diversity–these were the core values that marked the rise of America, and no film has ever shown these more clearly.”

Observed Roger Ebert, former film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times from 1967 until his death in 2013, ”It’s a Wonderful Life is not just a heart-warming ‘message picture.’ The conclusion of the film makes such an impact that some of the earlier scenes may be overlooked.”

One such scene stood out for me during this Christmas’ viewing. It came early in the film when the protagonist, a young George Bailey (played by Bobbie Anderson), prevents the distraught town druggist, Mr. Gower (played by H.B. Warner), from accidentally poisoning a child’s prescription.

The scene begins with young George, an employee of Mr. Gower, engaged behind the soda-fountain counter in Mr. Gower’s drugstore. George is seen conversing with young Violet and Mary–the later, who would eventually lead George to the altar.

At one point in the sequence, after Violet has left, young Mary leans over Old Man Gower’s soda-fountain counter and whispers into George’s bad ear–a consequence of saving his younger brother from drowning–as he stoops to retrieve a sundae dish. “George Bailey, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.”

George, unaware of Mary’s wistful confession, proceeds to put the finishing touches on her ice cream sundae as he whistles a tune.

Old Man Gower, slurring his words, is heard complaining from the backroom, “You’re not paid to be a canary.”

George looks up, and as he does, happens to notice a Western Union Telegram left on the cash register. As he finishes up Mary’s sundae, his eyes scan the telegram sent by an Edward Mellington, President of Hammerton College.

It reads, “We regret to inform you that your son Robert died very suddenly this morning …”

After reading the telegram, George fixes his eyes on Gower, sets the sundae on the counter in front of Mary, without looking at her, and walks to the back room where Old Man Gower is struggling to fill a prescription phoned in by a young boy’s mother.

Aware of Mr. Gower’s loss, George asks, “Mr. Gower, do you want something? Anything?”

A curt, “No,” is Gower’s response.

George continues to offer, “Anything I can do back here?”

Once again, a sharp, “No,” is heard as Gower, visibly upset, fumbles with the capsules and we see a few drop to the floor.

“I’ll get them for you, sir,” is George’s immediate response.

Emotionally distraught in his grief-stricken stupor, Old Man Gower shoves a box of pills into George’s hands. “Quick, take those capsules to Mrs. Blaine. She’s waiting for them.”

“Yes, sir.” is George’s dutiful reply. However, as he turns to leave, George notices the label on the bottle, from which the powder had been apportioned, and realizes the capsules had inadvertently been filled with poison.

George attempts to confront Old Man Gower with his mistake but Gower urges George on as though expending the last ounce of his energy to do so, “Oh, get going.”

As George leaves the backroom, Gower can been seen gripping a bottle of alcohol as he collapses in a chair and attempts to focus his eyes, ringed and bloodshot with fatigue, on a picture of his son.

George never does deliver the pills and, as a result, we bear witness to what has been referred to as the famous slap scene.

According to Bobby Anderson, in the confrontation between Mr. Gower and young George, H.B. Warner slapped him for real and made his ear bleed, reducing him to tears. It is said Warner hugged him after the scene was shot.

Toward the conclusion of the film, when George wishes he had never been born, Clarence, the angel sent to prevent George from taking his life, shows him a timeline in which he never existed. Bedford Falls is now Pottersville (named after the film’s antagonist, Henry F. Potter, who controls most of the town’s businesses) an unsavory town occupied by sleazy entertainment venues, crime, and amoral people. The lives George touched are vastly different. The druggist, Mr. Gower, was imprisoned for manslaughter since George was not around to prevent him from poisoning the pills.

Many of the themes in this film are relevant to this day and that’s why It’s a Wonderful Life endures as timeless.

For me, the empathy inherent in young George, and for that matter throughout George’s life, is what is most impressive. A young man who chose to resist the inclination to be self-absorbed–life’s all about me–alternatively, allowed himself to be fully aware of the plight of others. To identify with those who are hurting, to feel what other’s feel. It is the antithesis to a calloused heart that often revels in and contributes to the pain experienced by humanity.

At a 1970s seminar with film students, Frank Capra was asked if there were still a way to make movies about the kinds of values and ideals found in the Capra films.

“Well, if there isn’t,” he said, “we might as well give up.”

Former Cook County Commissioner Garry Gamble is writing this ongoing column about the various ways government works, as well as other topics. At times the column is editorial in nature.