For those of you who observe the holiday: Merry Christmas. For those of you who do not: Sorry about all the stores being closed.
As a child, my family typically went to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. Most of my family, that is. My father would often attend another mass, typically. And one year, it just so happened that Frank Capra’s 1946 film, It’s A Wonderful Life, was being shown on television. My father offered that I could skip midnight mass if I wanted to watch this film with him, and my father rarely made such offers like this, so I took it. And because my father so clearly loved this film, I grew to love it as well.
I was just reading Roger Ebert’s 1999 essay on the film–and something that Ebert wrote really struck a nerve with me:
“This was the first movie he (Capra) 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.”
There were no shades of gray in my late father’s view of the world. He saw the world in terms of the right thing to do or the wrong thing to do. For my father, anything other than the right thing was never an option. Hearing Ebert’s take on Capra’s intent with the film allows a glimpse past the heart-warming surface of the tale. It also allows me to see a little bit more of my father’s thinking, years after his death, through his appreciation of a film.
I keep the memory of my father alive in odd ways, but they are ways that work for me. And hearing George Bailey exclaim “Zusu’s petals” always takes me back to my childhood and my first viewing of the film.
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