It’s A Wonderful Life

It’s A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart

The best and worst things that ever happened to “It’s a Wonderful Life” are that it fell out of copyright protection and into the shadowy no-man’s-land of the public domain. Because the movie is no longer under copyright, any television station that can get its hands on a print of the movie can show it, at no cost, as often as it wants to. And that has led in the last decade to the rediscovery of Frank Capra‘s once-forgotten film, and its elevation into a Christmas tradition. PBS stations were the first to jump on the bandwagon in the early 1970s, using the saga of the small-town hero George Bailey as counter-programming against expensive network holiday specials. To the general amazement of TV program directors, the audience for the film grew and grew over the years, until now many families make the movie an annual ritual.

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, like “Casablanca” or “The Third Man,” that improves with age. Some movies, even good ones, should only be seen once. When we know how they turn out, they’ve surrendered their mystery and appeal. Other movies can be viewed an indefinite number of times. Like great music, they improve with familiarity. “It’s a Wonderful Life” falls in the second category.

Frank Capra never intended “It’s a Wonderful Life” to be pigeonholed as a “Christmas picture.” This was the first movie he made after returning from service in World War II, and he wanted it to be special–a celebration of the lives and dreams of America’s ordinary citizens, who tried the best they could to do the right thing by themselves and their neighbors. After becoming Hollywood’s poet of the common man in the 1930s with an extraordinary series of populist parables (“It Happened One Night,” “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “You Can’t Take It With You”), Capra found the idea for “It’s a Wonderful Life” in a story by Philip Van Doren Stern that had been gathering dust on studio shelves.

For Stewart, also recently back in civilian clothes, the movie was a chance to work again with Capra, for whom he had played Mr. Smith. The original trailer for the movie (included on the Criterion disk) played up the love angle between Stewart and Donna Reed and played down the message–but the movie was not a box office hit, and was all but forgotten before the public domain prints began to make their rounds.

The Big Sleep

Book by Raymond Chandler

First released in 1946 and now being revived for selected screenings around the country and an extended run at the National Film TheatreThe Big Sleep is a film of infinite interest. In its famously knowing trailer, Humphrey Bogart walks into the Hollywood Public Library and asks for “a good mystery like The Maltese Falcon“. A librarian gives him a copy of what is misleadingly described as “Raymond Chandler’s latest”, adding: “What a picture that’ll make!” Well, it did, and the result can be approached from a number of distinct and complementary directions.

First, it’s a Warner Brothers production, made at the height of Hollywood’s big studio era and announced by Warner’s logo, which looks like a federal badge of social responsibility. Jack L Warner, who’d headed the studio since the early 1920s, determined what films were made, how and by whom, their cost and which contract performers appeared in them; their smart, stocky, wisecracking heroes looked a lot like Warner himself.