Frank Capra was a man of the people. His films touched and still touch millions every year, with their boundless wit, charm, community spirit and hope. No film encapsulates this ethos more than his 1946 return to motion pictures following the war, It’s a Wonderful Life. For me, there is no question that this is the greatest Christmas film of all time, and in more than a few ways, one of the finer films ever made. I hope to illuminate this case to you today, but I feel that many of you already agree.

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The story is really quite simple, a man calls out in prayer to the universe for a reason to live and his prayer is answered. The angel sent down, and in turn the audience, view his entire life up until this tragic moment. Before the angel, the man and the audience view what the world will be like without him ever existing. Understanding that “a man’s life touches so many other lives” and that when that man is gone “he leaves an awful hole”. The film is elegant in its storytelling, profound in its wisdom and hope, hilarious in its humour and endlessly wistful and passionate in its romance. Capra manages to convey an entire man’s life, aswell as an alternate world, all in the space of just over 2 hours. The film’s economy when it comes to introducing characters and concepts is the sort of thing that any writer and director aims for, managing to convey an entire romance in the space of ten minutes, an entire downfall of a life in a similar time. It is fair to say that time is of the essence for our craftsmen and our characters, as George Bailey reflects and considers the life that he has indeed had.

Capra’s nomination for best director for It's a Wonderful Life was his sixth in 13 years, winning three for You Can’t Take It With You (a marvellous farce), Mr. Deeds Goes To Town (one of the great romances) and It Happened One Night (the original rom-com and still one of the sweetest and wittiest films in the genre). The war affected everybody and Capra spent his time making and directing an array of propaganda films for the US, this was the return to films for himself, as well as his star, the incomparable James Stewart, who was almost dispute branded a war hero in many camps. The film was to be his grand return and nerves led to much anxiety on the set for Stewart, all of which I feel add to the power, passion and pain of his ultimate performance, an undoubted marvel of acting in what we now call “Old Hollywood”. The story of the film came from a short piece by Phillip Van Doren Stern, with the basic gist of the final twenty minutes of the final filmic product, solely focussing upon the tour of Bedford Falls if George had never existed. The film went through an abundance of screenwriters, including Capra himself who moulded the structure and majority of the film we see today. These writers included Frances Goodrich (Seven Brides for Seven Brothers), along with Albert Hackett, her husband and writing partner. Acclaimed playwright Clifford Odets helped contribute, with the Gower poisoning sub-plot being the only remnant of his draft.

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One of the most unsung aspects of the film I feel is the grand ensemble of performances and characters that we view, from Lionel Barrymore’s villainous and calculating entrepreneur Potter, to Thomas Mitchell’s fumbling and bumbling (yet sparingly sad) Uncle Billy. Not a single named character passes by without a thoughtful and realistic performance, all building to the triumphant finale that affects us so desperately every time. This is down to the fact that we know every face in that living room and because Capra has done such a sensational job at showing us the residents of this town. Henry Travers is so wistful and wonderfully childlike as Clarence, but so loving too. Belulah Bondi and Samuel S. Hinds are just terrific as George’s mother and father, with Todd Karns’ Harry embodying all the effect of George’s goodness in one walking talking person. Harry is the living embodiment of exactly the sort of good that George brings into the world and that Clarence is trying to savour. Another triumph in the film is Gloria Grahame, offering another layered performance in her gallery of roles, where she never once let the characters she was given avoid having more dimensions.

But for me the lynchpin of this entire piece is Stewart. Donna Reed is genuinely sensational as Mary, and fills a character that could be nothing but doubting and passive, into a wholly rich character that epitomises heart and love. But Stewart steals the show. That classic voice is so easy to imitate, but the power and passion of his work here is something that imitation cannot sustain. Stewart gives us here an entire life of a man, exemplifying years of aging with the most simple of glares and looks. The wonderful makeup effects throughout do help, but Stewart’s performance punctuates Bailey’s life with the sort of life lived knowledge that I believe is the exact result of this being his first film following the war. Stewart offers us once more the rosy cheeks of his pre-war fare, his boundless charisma and his subtle charm. Before crushing us with the brutal realism of his moments with Bailey at rock bottom. For me it is the great travesty of the film that this isn’t proclaimed more often as one of the most singular and stellar performances of all time.

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There is something to be said about a film that is viewed by millions, all more or less at the same time every year, leading to the same reaction over and over again; implicit joy, many tears and a new-found hope. I have no shame in admitting that I have been to the bottom of the well too and although to talk too personally would be to move away from the undeniable genius of the film, I can comment that the film quite literally saved my life. So perhaps this love and adoration comes from a selfish and biased point of view, but I know deep down that many, many people have been affected and saved by this film just the same. To end on a highly hyperbolic note, if you don’t at least have one tear by the final reel, I very much doubt that there is a beating heart inside you at all. Or you just have a different taste in films...who knows, could be either. 

Merry Christmas from everyone at Carruthers, Leggetter & Whoever.

-Thomas Carruthers