Struggle and Freedom with Frank Capra
I have, like many others, grown up with Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and Jimmy
Stewart embodying the struggles of the every man; although the journey to truly accepting this
film and what it has to offer has taken me a few decades.
I have to admit though: I absolutely loathed this film as a child. My mom tried to get me
to watch it hundreds of times, to my dismay. Growing up, as a kid, pre-teen, teen; I did not have
the patience, attention span or interest in watching a black and white movie about a middle aged
guy who hated his life.
Then adulthood kicked in. I started to have heavier emotions around the holidays,
especially after my dad died right before Thanksgiving in my mid-twenties. And I met my friend
and mentor Andy, who was 46 when I was 26, and who became a significant guide through the
jungles of my adult life.
Every time Christmas would roll around, he would bring up his ritual of watching ‘It’s A
Wonderful Life’ with his wife and daughter. He would break down why the film was important,
as an adult man in recovery, and why he breaks into tears at the end every single time. He
challenged my condescending demeanor about the film, when I scoffed at the idea of watching it:
“You have no idea what you are missing. You are wanting answers to life, to your
existence, to learn what it means to be truly sober, and you won’t watch this? Wow, you are
seriously missing out on one of finer experiences in life bro.”
Upon his challenge, I watched it, a few times each year. And over time, I became
emotionally invested every time.
Meeting my wife also changed my opinion of the film even more, seeing as it was her
favorite movie (I used to laugh at the differences of our life perspectives when we dated, as her
favorite movie was ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’; and mine was ‘The Dark Knight’). We went to see it at
the Music Box three years in a row, where the crowd’s enthusiasm for the film was always
infectious. And the emotional ending gets me every time, although from a different angle that
most people might say.
In the end, when all is said and done, George Bailey goes home, only to be embraced by
every major character in Bedford Falls, the true meaning behind the entire story unfolds. With
George’s internal struggle that he should have done more with his existence; it’s the moment that
he makes this emotional and psychological transition that has always been my favorite scene. It
is, however, not the infamous scene where he runs through town praising Christmas; or even the
one with all the townspeople at the very end. For me it is the more subtle moments in the end.
After being suicidal, wishing he was never born, George realizes that his life, although
challenging at times, is worth living. He is truly grateful that his existence matters, and is so
grateful in fact, that he blindly goes to his home at the end, not necessarily knowing what awaits
him, but probably aware that he has to face his family, as well as the government agents that
were there to question him about the missing money.
That one moment, when he is bursting with emotion, and plows into his home, has stuck
with me, especially in recent years. There is something about his blind faith, that he bursts in
looking for his family, not focusing on whether or not he goes to jail and loses everything; He is
so grateful for his existence, he does not get wrapped up in the details of whatever situation he is
currently in, nor what he spent years complaining about. From the broken banister to his
daughter’s singing, he can embrace all of these small pieces, knowing that they all add up to who
he is.
How freeing would that be to live life like that every day? To courageously and boldly
enter our day, without a safety net, not knowing what the outcome will be, just being excited that
we are here. So much of our daily lives, especially during the holidays, can get bogged down in
the details of events: Will my boss be angry with me for missing the work party? What if I
cannot find the perfect present for my loved one?
‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, in essence, is challenging as a traditional holiday film: it is
shouting in the face of our fiscally driven holiday culture and addressing that it is what we
possess internally in our hearts and souls, and not what we possess, consume, purchase, etc. that
matters. George Bailey was willing to face whatever music he had coming to him at the end of
the film and had no idea that the townspeople were going to come in his house with buckets of
money.
The holidays in the film are the existential turning point for George, a time when he was
forced to reflect on how far he had come, even though he never traveled anywhere. Maybe the
holiday season and feeling happy in life is an inside job, so to speak; having to do more with
internal reflection more than commercialized stimulation. Maybe we all need to face the coming
day with the same tenacity and life that George Bailey had when he walked through his door at
the end of the film, willing to face whatever his fate might be. Collectively as a culture, we might
be better off to bottle up our gratitude during the holidays, and space it out throughout our
lifespan instead.
After my last two decades, dealing with losing a parent, becoming a father and husband,
the film has a much deeper meaning for me than when I rediscovered it years later. In my
twenties, like most people, i was idealistic, grandiose, narcissistic; the world was my oyster, and
at that stage of adulthood, there are hundreds of options to choose from. In my thirties and
forties, I made many decisions that laid down the foundation for the life I have today. The film is
really about those decisions, questioning whether we made the right ones, and whether our
existence matters in the grand scheme of things. I’m sure the film, like everything else I have
absorbed in the past, will take on a different meaning, as I approach, 50, 60 and beyond.
What does a wonderful life mean to you?
Our experiences, relationships, losses, and the choices we make along the way can change how we understand ourselves and our lives. Therapy can create space to have those conversations. Learn more about VMA Psychotherapy and start a conversation at vmapsychotherapy.com.