George Bailey, I hardly knew ya
1 January 2006, 12:00 amI saw It’s a Wonderful Life for the first time in 1997. It was extremely different from what I’d been led to expect. I wrote an essay/review of it then that seems more than a bit reactionary to me now.
The week before Christmas, I saw the film for the second time at a Brattle Theatre fund-raiser screening, and it confounded my expectations again.
The first time I was overwhelmed by Bailey’s anger and the undercurrent of violence that runs through the film. (I also completely missed some details, like that Bailey knew Martini of Martini’s bar because Bailey financed his home).
This time, it seemed less about Bailey’s frustration and more about Bailey coming to an epiphany that I wasn’t ready to face in 1997. Bailey never achieved his dreams of traveling the world and building airports and skyscrapers, but that’s not necessarily bad. It certainly doesn’t invalidate his good works.
It’s extremely unlikely that I’ll ever enjoy the success as a musician that I once thought was in my reach — in terms of reaching a broader audience than the local bar scene; I never defined it monetarily. A deal with a small indie and some touring once seemed at least plausible, even if I never thought it was in my grasp. But that doesn’t mean I can’t entertain people in the local bar scene, and have some fun doing that. And it doesn’t mean I can’t find other meaningful ways to contribute.
And, at the end of 2005, the conclusion of It’s a Wonderful Life seems less to me like a deus ex machina and an acknowledgement of defeat, and more like the natural flow of karma and learning to redefine one’s expecations without surrendering one’s values.
I hope this doesn’t mean I’m growing up. ‘Coz that would really suck.
Happy 2006, everybody.
As we’ve probably discussed in person, one of the things that I love about It’s a Wonderful Life is how I am continually noticing new things about it and seeing it in new ways, even though I’ve now seen the film probably 50+ times. I agree with what you’ve said about one of the film’s messages–that just because you don’t reach the exact goals you define for yourself, that doesn’t mean that what you’re doing isn’t worthwhile, that people haven’t noticed you or that they don’t appreciate you, or that you’re some other variety of failure. It applies to my life, too.
As for fun little details I’ve noticed along the way, here are a few:
1) The dates on Harry Bailey’s grave stone are wrong. I forget the exact dates, but I think Clarence says that Harry drowned at the age of 9, while the dates on the grave stone show that he was only 8. Whatever it is, it’s one year off.
2) In George’s father’s office, the following saying is framed and prominently displayed, “You can take with you only that which you have given away.” (I think that’s right–it may be off by a word or two.)
3) Among the family portraits George has displayed above his desk at home is a framed portrait of Abraham Lincoln.
4) Mr. Potter has a bust of Napoleon in his office, and a skull-shaped paperweight (or something) on his desk.
5) The Baileys have a dog (or someone in the boarding house does). When George is having dinner with his father before “Harry’s party,” the dog barks and you see its tail wagging. For some reason I never noticed this until the last time I saw the film.
6) There’s a portrait of Peter Bailey hanging in the living room of George’s home at 320 Sycamore, and a few shots at the end of the film are composed so that the portrait is plainly in view in the background.
7) There’s a butterfly collection on the wall in the dining room of the Bailey boarding house.
OK… so I’ve seen the film many times, but there are lots of little details like this sprinkled throughout, and often the little things really fit and add to the whole story and the world it creates.