It's A Wonderful Life - Tumblr Posts
🎄 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS → DAY TWENTY-ONE 🎄 IT'S WONDERFUL LIFE (1946), dir. Frank Capra "Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"
Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
now I really want to see this FBI-imagined remake of it's a wonderful life portraying the banker. what a stirring tale of following the rules and "protecting funds put in his care by private individuals" that would be
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946) • JIMMY STEWART as George Bailey and LIONEL BARRYMORE as Mr. Potter
I'm watching Batman: The Animated Series as I knit to destress from finals
It's episode 1:38, 'Christmas With the Joker' when I hear this and start cackling.
Dick: If all is quiet in Gotham, we come home early, eat Christmas dinner, and watch 'Its a Wonderful Life.'
Bruce: You know, I've never seen that. Couldn't get past the title.
BRUCE.
Dick: You'll love 'It's a Wonderful Life'. It's a great movie.
Bruce: It's not relentlessly cheery is it?
BRUCE PLEASE
I'm dying. He's always be emo, even when he was mostly normal
Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946) dir. frank capra
BEYOND TOMORROW aka BEYOND CHRISTMAS (Dir: A Edward Sutherland, 1940).
My quest for obscure vintage Christmas movies has arrived at Beyond Tomorrow, a curious little movie with a somewhat convoluted plot.
A trio of wealthy businessmen (Harry Carey, C Aubrey Smith and Charles Winninger) play matchmaker to a teacher (Jean Parker) and a misplaced cowboy (Richard Carlson). When the three are tragically killed in a plane crash they return as ghosts to watch over the couple whom they have left a significant inheritance.
Beyond Tomorrow is one of a handful of Hollywood movies of the era to deal with themes of spirituality and guardian angels; notable examples include Here Comes Mr Jordan (Alexander Hall, 1941) and It's a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946). Unfortunately this movie is nowhere near the caliber of those classics.
Although relatively short, at roughly 80 minutes, I found it a chore to watch. It's early scenes, centered around the holiday season are easily its best. However the film soon descends into hollow sentimentality and mawkishness, with Adele Comandini's screenplay lacking the dramatic strength to overcome the corny and frankly odd premise. The 'B' movie is also lacking star talent, although Richard Carlson later would make an impression in Universal's late period monster flick Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954). A bigger name would certainly have lent the movie a little more cache but, to be honest, I think it would do little to help either the pedestrian script or A Edward Sutherland's workmanlike direction.
I also feel this movie was slightly miss sold, as only its first third is festive. In a shameless yuletide cash grab the movie has latterly been marketed as Beyond Christmas. Cynical though this may be, the title is actually more accurate as much of the feature does, indeed, take place after Christmas!
I am a sucker for a decent Christmas film and Golden Age Hollywood is my favourite era of filmmaking, but this turkey of a movie did nothing for me. By all means worth a watch for the curious. Just don't expect it to fill you with Christmas joy.
Check out my blog JINGLE BONES MOVIE TIME for 100+ movie reviews! Link below
THE MIRACLE OF THE BELLS (Dir: Irving Pichel, 1948).
The Miracle of the Bells is a sentimental RKO drama with an A list cast.
Via a series of flashbacks, the story of aspiring actress Olga Treskovna (Alida Valli - billed here as simply Valli) is told through voice-over narration by Hollywood press agent Bill Dunnigan (Fred MacMurray). Following her early death, Dunning fulfulls her final wish by returning with the body to the small coal-mining town of her childhood. Here she is to receive a modest burial at the struggling St Michael's church, conducted by Father Paul (Frank Sinatra). We learn of Dunnigan's unrequited love of Olga as he concocts a publicity stunt to secure the release of her only film, a starring role as Joan of Ark, which producer Marcus Harris (Lee J Cobb) has held back, due to her death.
The decision to tell the story in flashback was probably a mistake and does little to help an already weak narrative. Its 120 minutes feels epically long and structuring the movie in this way only serves to delay the inevitable conclusion. When it finally arrives, the treatment of the so called 'miracle' is mawkish in the extreme. Despite its themes of faith and belief, The Miracle of the Bells feels patently fake. Nothing about the movie rings true, from its skewed ideas about the workings of Hollywood to the reaction of the world to the death of the previously unheard of 'star'. Even the miracle of the title is called into question by the St Michael's priest.
Faith can be a tricky subject to pull off on film, but it can be done; festive favourites such as It's a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946) and The Bishop's Wife (Henry Koster, 1947) are testament to this. Yet where those movies were successful in presenting spiritual themes in engaging, credible manner to a secular audience, The Miracle of the Bells is not. It feels outdated, corny and preachy. But its biggest sin of all is that it is so dull.
With its star-studded cast, The Miracle of the Bells is not entirely unwatchable, but I cannot honestly recommend it. Give it go if you must; it will be a miracle if you make it until the end.
For a longer, more in-depth review of THE MIRACLE OF THE BELLS visit my blog JINGLE BONES MOVIE TIME! Link below.
Supernatural fantasy romance from Hollywood’s golden age. Read my review of Beyond Tomorrow (1940) here:
https://jinglebonesmovietime.blogspot.com/2019/12/beyond-tomorrow-aka-beyond-christmas.html?spref=tw
JAMES STEWART & DONNA REED in
IT’S A WONDERRFUL LIFE (1946) | dir. Frank Capra.
It’s a Wonderful Life 1946, dir. Frank Capra
Every year, my family watches It's a Wonderful Life around Christmas time. A tradition. The original is in black and white, but we happen to have a digitally recolored version. This year, I asked which version we were going to watch and was told "black and white." I wanted to know why- I mean, why not color? My sister replied we were watching it "the way nature intended"
Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
It’s a Wonderful Life (Capra, 1946)
“Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends. Thanks for the wings! Love, Clarence”