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Why It Hurts to Watch Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life

In a matter of weeks, Americans will engage in the Christmas ritual of visiting Bedford Falls, U.S.A., home to George and Mary Bailey, Uncle Billy, Bert and Ernie, Violet Bicks, and mean Henry Potter. It's the time of year for everyone's favorite holiday rerun, Frank Capra's 1946 classic, It's a Wonderful Life. Americans have been watching this film for more than half a century, but have long ago abandoned its message. In his time, Frank Capra was a persistent advocate for core cultural values. Today, conservatives and new Democrats alike bemoan the absence of core values, though I doubt they want to adopt those of Bedford Falls.

If the political and cultural pacesetters of our time are any indication, the wonderful life of Capra's film bears little resemblance to our aspirations. The current fascination with the rich, the powerful, and the famous is not found in Bedford Falls. To Capra, the rich and powerful had none of the essential qualities to preserve freedom in America, nor did they display any of the core cultural values he championed. Henry Potter, the films consummate big money capitalist, is half a man physically, existing entirely from the waist up. More importantly, what remains of his humanity is the part triggered by cold monetary self-interest. Potter has neither family nor friends. His only social relationships are those attached by what a wise philosopher once called the" cash nexus." Unlike his nemesis, George Bailey, Potter is intolerant of America's working class and its ethnic minorities. Potter refers to the former as"suckers" and"riff raff," and the later,"garlic eaters." In short, Capra depicts big time capitalists as bigoted predators, itching to direct America toward a predatory existence under their domain.

It’s A Wonderful Life warns that a predatory capitalism could prevail unless regular Americans reconcile the tension between self-interest and the communal spirit--each with a grip on our national consciousness. George Bailey not only embodies this conflict, he provides the object lesson for its resolution. He fights the temptations of self-interest every time he tries but fails to"shake the dust off [that] crummy little town." In the famous parlor scene where George and Mary share a phone call from"Hee Haw," Sam Wainwright, George insists he"doesn't want any ground floors," he"doesn't want to marry anybody!" Just before succumbing to his repressed love for Mary, he says,"I want to do what I want to do!" Of course, George never does what he wants, for, as a more contemporary George (Costanza) has said,"A George divided against himself cannot stand." Time and again, George B. sets aside"independent George," and for good reason. To do otherwise would condemn Bedford Falls to Potter. Even George and Mary's planned honeymoon, financed by their hard earned rainy day money, is too risky to the fabric of the community.

George Bailey is Capra's consummate peoples' hero using his money and his business only as a way of helping family, friends, and community. Herein lie the essence of Capra's Americanism and his model for generating a wonderful life--a people's capitalism. Such a capitalism exists when one's commitment to giving takes priority over self; when the well being of the self is rooted in the well being of the community, and when the profit motive is employed to meet societal needs, rather than stock dividends. Like many Depression era Americans, Capra had little faith left in the promises of laissez-faire (i.e., the pursuit of self-interest as parent to the common good). What is good for Potter is emphatically not good for Bedford Falls.

The humane capitalism of Capra's film was not inevitable. A possible alternative is glimpsed, should the"true American" succumb to the temptations of unbridled individualism. It is"Pottersville," a place marred by divorce, broken families, pornography, shootings and police chases; an existence that"makes men want to get drunk fast," according to Nick the bartender. Pottersville turns the innocent flirtations of Violet Bicks, easily accommodated in the nurturing environment of Bedford Falls, into prostitution and self-destruction. It is an all against all, spiritually unrewarding society where the entrails of misery and alienation are easy to find--kind of like L.A.

Judging from the film's ending, Capra did not think Pottersville was likely. There were far too many George and Mary Baileys dedicated to the well being of others. Moreover, Capra saw the values of a people's capitalism enduring since they were consistent with the ethics of the heavens. After all, George's guardian angel, Clarence, had to help others before he could earn his wings. No, once committed to the core values of a people's capitalism, the U.S. could beat back all threats, foreign and domestic.

For all its collectivist spirit, It’s A Wonderful Life is not without its flaws. Capra was naïve to think a people's capitalism could endure solely on citizens' commitment to the Golden Rule. Without a people's government, a people's capitalism seems inconceivable. Capra also looked too optimistically at suburbia as a location where his core values could prosper, and off the mark in assuming"Bailey Park" would protect Americans from the Henry Potter's of the world. Suburbia has proven to be quite accessible to the corrosive influences of corporate interests. The post World War II suburbanization of the working class eroded much of what remained of community values. With its porchless houses, lack of significant social space, suburbia fostered not community, but runaway consumerism. Such an existence made it easy for Americans to turn inward and ignore all but self. Instead of community identity flowing smoothly from the interaction of people and personalities, as in Bedford Falls, suburbia took on the identity imposed from without, enveloping all under the now familiar signs of the Wal Marts, Starbucks, Best Buys, and Costco's. So complete is the corporate takeover of the culture, teachers of our time can either identify their students either by name or corporate logos.

Finally, Capra's ideal America is sexist and racist to a degree. From all indications, he had a hard time envisioning women outside the role of housewife. After all, Mary, a college graduate, only finds fulfillment in"turning a house into a home" and being"on the nest." Likewise, Capra showed no indication he could perceive blacks in roles outside the servant class. Annie, the Baileys' maid, makes a number of references to her desire for a husband and family, but we can't like her chances. She is the only black in Bedford Falls, and, for all the warmth and comfort found in the Bailey home, I'm not sure even they are ready to accept inter-racial marriage.

Capra's critique of big money capitalists is all but lost in today's mainstream culture. Instead of people's heroes, our culture displays a steady menu of the"greed is good" ethos of ABC's John Stossel, the Social Darwinism of"Survivor"and the mean spirited, though now somewhat blemished conservatism, of Rush Limbaugh and Bill"one armed bandit" Bennett.

America seems to have lost its stomach for a sustained critique of the rampant pursuit of personal wealth over civic responsibility. This is as much so politically as culturally. Our current president gives huge tax breaks to the wealthiest 1 percent under the cynical banner of"fairness" to all taxpayers. Indeed, the most visible"George" of our time has come a long way from Bedford Falls.

Democrats currently lined up to challenge Bush seem equally reluctant to campaign against America Inc. The few prominent George and Mary Baileys of today (Ralph Nader, Arianna Huffington, Dennis Kucinich et. al.) are relegated to the margins, while the attitudes of an early twentieth century Republican-- who once called the rich and well born"malefactors of great wealth"-- are as passe as Frank Capra. So too the words of Eugene V. Debs, who insisted that"money constitutes no proper basis for civilization." All of the above makes the enduring popularity of It’s A Wonderful Life something of a curiosity and at the same time a ray of hope. In any case, I know what I want from Santa Claus this Christmas. I want Capra's civic mindedness, and critique of the rich and wellborn worked back into the fabric of the culture. Perhaps then we can revitalize our struggle for all to have a wonderful life.