It’s a Wonderful Life, the quintessential tale of selflessness, gratitude, and the blessings of friends and family—traditional values all—is for many as much a holiday tradition as trimming the tree and baking cookies. So it may seem odd that Frank Capra’s beloved tale should be considered by many to be strongly anti-capitalist. Indeed, back in the HCUA days the FBI fingered the film in a memo entitled “Communist Infiltration of the Motion Picture Industry.” And just last year, Glenn Beck got into a back and forth with a progressive blogger over the issue.
One could simply brush off the interpretation of these Grinches, these Scrooges, these Mr. Potters, if you will, as “missing the point.” Yet that does little to reduce the embarrassment that a film so adored for epitomizing the best in human nature would cause to conservatism by disparaging the free-market. Gladly, this is not the case.
Quite the contrary, It’s a Wonderful Life praises a far more substantial vision of free-enterprise than its detractors seem to apprehend. Besides that, the film is also a tribute to family, a salute to Americanism, an homage to goodwill, and an ode to traditional values all wrapped up in a beautiful golden-age Hollywood Christmas card.
NOTE: If you haven’t seen It’s a Wonderful Life, what’s the matter with you!? Go out and find a copy and watch it right away! In the meantime, here it is re-enacted by bunnies in 30 seconds: LINK. Of course, there’s much more to the story, but for the sake of brevity (hah!), this article assumes familiarity with the film.
The DirectorBefore discussing the movie, I’d like to examine Frank Capra’s directorial style. Many of the ideas explored in It’s a Wonderful Life are not unique to that picture. Capra explored similar themes in almost all of his work. He intentionally centered his films around values he acquired growing up in the Italian neighborhoods of early 20th c. L.A.; hard work, self-reliance, and a love of freedom and the American Dream. (The real one, not that chicken-in-every-pot nonsense.)
This decision wasn’t made without controversy. His diatribe against political corruption, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, met with unilateral opposition from the US Senate. Meet John Doe attacked exploitation of the poor by politicians and the media. His last film bearing a strong political message, State of the Union, took on special interests and crooked electioneering with a message that would likely resonate with the Tea Party today. If It’s a Wonderful Life contained an anti-capitalist message, it would be coming from the most unlikely of sources.
A Tale of Two Capitalists
How then can anyone find such a message in the film? I suspect it comes partly from accepting one of liberalism’s favorite bogeymen: the heartless capitalist. The confusion makes some sense because actual specimens do exist. There are unscrupulous men in this world who can justify almost anything that garners profit. (George Soros comes to mind.) The bogeyman is crafted simply by painting all entrepreneurs and businessmen with this broad brush. This is the sort of “capitalist” vilified in the film, and I shudder to think that any “conservative” would defend it.
Henry F. Potter is presented as such a capitalist, a wealthy businessman, banker, and slumlord who looks down on everyone and is frequently credited with “owning the town.” In other words, Potter controls virtually all means of production and exchange in Bedford Falls. He may be the primary purveyor of jobs, but he also has considerable sway over the way the town is run, which he is apparently not shy about exercising. Potter is the picture of a small-town oligarch rather than the enterprising businessman.
Opposite him is George Bailey, the reluctant but principled proprietor of the Bailey Building and Loan. While Potter’s form of capitalism is underhanded, monopolistic, exploitive, Bailey's is straight forward, even-handed, and, most importantly, competitive. The B&L is just about the only venture in Bedford Falls that Potter hasn’t got his fingers in, and he can’t stand it. Throughout the film, Potter attempts every angle to take over the B&L from takeover to buyout to outright theft.
Through all of Potter’s attacks, however, Bailey presses on and invests himself into turning the marginal B&L into a cornerstone of the community. He wards off a run by delivering an econ-lesson in brief, explaining how the patrons' money isn't in the B&L, but in the homes and ventures of all their neighbors. He founds Bailey Park, providing a modest but better alternative to Potter’s slums—and considerable consternation to Potter himself. Bailey doesn’t mean to irk Potter, it’s just a side-effect of his selfless approach.
A Visit to Potterville
To underscore the superiority of George Bailey’s brand of capitalism, Capra gives us, in a flight of fancy, a glimpse of the town as it would be if Potter were left to run roughshod over it. No one can argue that the pursuit of a dollar is still the driving force in town. However, without Bailey to compete with Potter, the emphasis has changed from the honest buck to the easy one.
Gone are the quaint storefronts, replaced with seedy bars and dance halls. Not only has the respectable nature of the town vanished, but so has the optimism. The vibrant Bailey Park is replaced by a cemetery (no subtle symbolism there). The human toll is apparent in the creased faces and impatient demeanors. Whereas Bailey’s enterprising ways lifted people up, Potter’s exploitation has brought them down.
What’s Missing
If that isn’t enough to convince you, It’s a Wonderful Life continues to praise the free-market in what it leaves out from the story. For one, not once does anyone insinuate that Potter is a criminal, or that he even ought to be. Until the climactic moment when Potter discovers Uncle Billy’s misplaced deposit, every thing he does is perfectly legal. Furthermore, even his sole act of theft goes undetected that we know.
Also, it is revealed that Bailey’s business acumen is such that he is able to build houses for half the cost of their finished value. With skills like his, Bailey could have easily padded his own salary and hiked his rates. Instead, he continues in his—and his father’s—original mission, to help his clients realize their own American dreams.
Final Thoughts
Like many good stories, It’s a Wonderful Life clues the audience in to what the story is about from the outset. It starts on Christmas Eve. The town of Bedford Falls lies still under falling snow. The only sound to be heard are the rising prayers of the townsfolk, all pleading for the same thing—the well being of George Bailey. Above, the prayers are received and an angel named Clarence is recruited to answer them.
“Is he sick?” Clarence asks of Bailey. “No, worse,” replies another angel, “He’s discouraged.”
Right away this exchange reveals this to be a story about discouragement and its counterpoint, hope. Capra’s message isn’t simply about what is right or wrong, and it certainly isn’t about what is fair. It is about the hope that upholds principles in the face of adversity. Hope isn’t just a bunch of fanciful wishful thinking as some might suppose. It is derived of opportunity and possibility. These things are also the underpinnings of a free society in all respects, be it in the market, speech, worship, or whatever.