It's a Wonderful Movie

Every year, I watch the holiday screening of the 1946 film “It’s a Wonderful Life [1],” and marvel at how relevant the film remains. That was true in spades this year.

Most Americans have, intentionally or inadvertently, seen some or all of this film over the years. And millions can recite the plot in their sleep. A stand-up guy from Bedford Falls, NY, named George Bailey falls on hard times and wishes he’d never been born. A guardian-angel-in-training named Clarence shows him how the world would have gotten along without him—pretty awfully, as it turns out—and he comes to realize that, all in all, it’s a wonderful life.

What’s striking 62 years after the movie’s premier is how the film’s events and its values are equally enduring. The events include corrupt slumlord creditor Henry Potter manipulating the market and exploiting would-be homeowners, the ravages of the Great Depression in a declining manufacturing town, bank failures, and a challenging war abroad.

The film’s values revolve around the idea of Community—that we’re all in it together, interconnected, and responsible for each other. George sacrifices for others his whole life with little overt thanks, but learns in the end that his sacrifices have benefitted his whole community and, ultimately, himself.

Throughout the film, George is faced with choices—pursue his dream of traveling the world or stay home to run his late father’s savings and loan; go on his honeymoon or use his wedding gift money to save the S&L and its clients from bankruptcy and the clutches of Potter. At each opportunity, George reluctantly chooses Community over going it alone. Later, when George is in dire need, the Community chooses him, as his network of friends and family come together to repay his debt to the bank.

Two scenes in particular bring it all together. When there’s a run on the Bailey S&L and Potter tries to buy out George’s clients for pennies on the dollar, George convinces them to stick together and withdraw from the S&L only as much as each needs to tide them over:

CHARLIE
I'll take mine now.

GEORGE
No, but you . . . you . . . you're thinking of this place all wrong. As if I had the money back in a safe. The money's not here. Your money's in Joe's house . . . (to one of the men) . . . right next to yours. And in the Kennedy house, and Mrs. Macklin's house, and a hundred others. Why, you're lending them the money to build, and then, they're going to pay it back to you as best they can. Now what are you going to do? Foreclose on them?
….

GEORGE (cont'd)
Joe, you lived in one of [Potter’s] houses, didn't you? Well, have you forgotten? Have you forgotten what he charged you for that broken-down shack? (to Ed) Here, Ed. You know, you remember last year when things weren't going so well, and you couldn't make your payments. You didn't lose your house, did you? Do you think Potter would have let you keep it? (turns to address the room again)
Can't you understand what's happening here? Don't you see what's happening? Potter isn't selling. Potter's buying! And why? Because we're panicky and he's not.
That's why. He's picking up some bargains. Now, we can get through this thing all right. We've got to stick together, though. We've got to have faith in each other.

George’s reasoning prevails, and they weather the bank run and the larger Depression together.

In the other pivotal scene, Potter makes the eerily familiar argument that encouraging home ownership among everyday folks is misplaced, breeding “a discontented, lazy rabble instead of a thrifty working class.”

GEORGE
Just a minute –– just a minute. Now, hold on, Mr. Potter. You're right when you say my father was no business man. I know that. Why he ever started this cheap, penny-ante Building and Loan, I'll never know....But he did help a few people get out of your slums, Mr. Potter. And what's wrong with that? Why . . . Here, you're all businessmen here. Doesn't it make them better citizens? Doesn't it make them better customers? You . . . you said . . . What'd you say just a minute ago? . . . They had to wait and save their money before they even ought to think of a decent home. Wait! Wait for what? Until their children grow up and leave them? Until they're so old and broken-down that they . . . Do you know how long it takes a working man to save five thousand dollars? Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about . . . they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him, but to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle. Well, in my book he died a much richer man than you'll ever be!

Preachy, to be sure. But so relevant to our current era, in which conservative pundits are still arguing [2] that the real culprit in our economic meltdown was too many loans to low-income people, immigrants (like George Bailey’s friends the Martinis), and people of color.

George’s argument is not that everyone should have a house, or that people don’t have to repay their debts, but, rather, that economic security and mobility, the dignity and opportunity that homeownership represent, should not be reserved only for the wealthy. That shared prosperity is in everyone’s interest.

Once again this year, George Bailey’s story is the story of millions of Americans. The story of Bedford Falls is the story of America. We can be a cohesive and strong Community, or we can be a divided Pottersville of extreme individualism, inequality, and misery.

Looking out for each other, investing in each other’s homes and communities, remembering that we’re all in it together, are crucial to our future as individuals and as a nation. They are also, incidentally, a critical part of the vision [3] that Barack Obama articulated throughout his winning presidential campaign. Extreme individualism and social Darwinism, while certainly part of our national history, simply do not offer a way out of our country’s tough times—in fact, they’re part of what got us into our current mess first place.

If you didn’t catch it this year, rent “It’s a Wonderful Life” and consider what its message means to you in this remarkable new economic and political era. If you have seen it recently, I invite you to post your reflections below. How can we build the Community that’s so crucial to our shared destiny?