No Man Is A Failure Who Has Friends: It's A Wonderful Life (1946)

When people start talking about the "best" films for various occasions, themes and genres debate immediately arises as to what one uses to define each situation, particularly when such categories engage in multiple decades.  However, when it comes to debates about the best Christmas film of all time it seems nearly universal that people believe Frank Capra's It's A Wonderful Life to be heads above any of its competition, a surprisingly interesting phenomenon to emerge, considering that it is hardly a movie solely centered on Christmas time and, further, it has such a heavy element of darkness and sadness that one would be hard pressed to play it without concerns for shedding a tear or two.  However, after having the great opportunity to see an high definition transfer of this seminal work, I am more than willing to give all the credit to this film for its general well-regard.  Of course, It's A Wonderful Life certainly exists within a history of cinema which was incredibly exclusive, focusing primarily on a white middle class society, with a male at its helm.  Yet, the inherent likability of Jimmy Stewart, paired with a narrative so simple and direct that viewers nearly have it ingrained in their memories from birth, making for a film which causes generations to pass its perfection on from one age to another.  Seeing this film now, for the first time since childhood, also allowed me to appreciate some of the more experimental and revolutionary elements of a film that I figured to be wholly melodramatic, whether it be the fade from grey to blurry to normal picture as we are introduced to George Bailey for the first time, or the talking stars bit...something seemingly more appropriate for Night of the Hunter.  Also, for as oft quoted as the bit about bells and wings has become, I was surprised by how little of the narrative centers on the famous scene.  Essentially, viewers are provided with one of the greatest single character studies in the history of film, so directly focused on understanding the intricacies of human suffering and sacrifice, without engaging in any level of pretentious preachiness.  Even the latent Christian elements of the film appear to take a back seat to karma like understanding of human existence.

The story of It's A Wonderful Life is extravagantly simple, we are dropped in medias res on the town of Bedford Falls praying for the well-being of George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart), who from what the film suggests is suffering from a bit of bad luck.  Quickly viewers are transferred an image of the cosmos as spectral stars discuss a means by which to save the ailing George who is about to commit suicide, agreeing to send an angel in need of wings named Clarence (Henry Travers), the film through the angels begins to recount the experiences of George, in an attempt to explain why he has been driven to the point of seriously considering the end of his life.  Beginning with a moment in which he saves his younger brother in a sledding accident to only lose hearing in his ear, we are shown a hard-willed George who is also incredibly self-sacrificing when his actions assure that others will be aided.  Progressing at a perfect pace through George's growing older we are led to believe that George has given up aspirations of world travel in order to help maintain his father's business, save his town from being bought out by the terrible capitalist Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore), or assuring for the comfort and well being of his wife Mary (Donna Reed) and their children.  Yet even after these varied forms of sacrifice, a bit of trouble financially on Christmas Eve and an accidental misplacement of money by his uncle at which he risks losing everything causes him to toss away hope and stand on the local bridge with thoughts of ending it all.  However, when a loud splash is heard, George jumps to the rescue of none other than Clarence, who explains openly that he is an angel and after George exclaims that he wishes he had never been born, provides him with such an experience, one in which all his friends are miserable under the ruthless and greedy hands of Mr. Potter.  Taking joy in realizing that even in this moment of misery that he has helped countless members of his community, George pleads to return to his life, one which leads to his return home to the open arms of his family and the monetary support of an entire community, George realizes that his unquestioning willingness to help others has proven more bountiful than he could have imagined.

As the young Woody Allenesque theater manager at my local theater suggested when introducing the film, viewers are led to seriously consider what "a wonderful life" truly is while watching this film, which is certainly true, but such a reading is far too simple since the film makes it quite clear that it is going to undermine capitalist desires and American individualism within nearly every scene, at times even vilifying its existence via Mr. Potter.  Instead, I really think the film, despite its latent Christian metaphors and imagery, asks viewers to consider, at the very least, the philosophy they use to engage with daily life, one that is not centered in materialistic obsessions in the slightest.  While George Bailey certainly does not find himself void of physical desires, particularly in his younger years, he is not obsessed with money or physical signifiers of success like his brother, business patrons or even his wife at times, but instead his own happiness, which proves far to intertwined with the happiness of others.   This approach to the world is nearly identical the that of a zen buddhist, in so much as he often tosses away worldly desires with the hopes of making sure others are comfortable, while also engaging in some seriously positive karma.  One could see him as a fool for such actions, but that would suggest that he engages in them with assumptions that he will receive compensation at some point, however, it is clear from the onset that he offers help out of earnest, not out of ulterior objectives.  Of course, one cannot completely ignore the Christian elements to George, as he is exceptionally Christlike in his endeavors.  Of course, George's form of Christianity is a far cry from the nonsense and bigotry seemingly tied to so many contemporary sects of this particular belief system.  While I am not a Christian myself, I would make a strong case that It's A Wonderful Life exists as a transcendent example of exemplary behavior both in a religious and social context.

Key Scene:  The world without George scenes are stellar and really become more intense of the big screen, culminating in a moment where Jimmy Stewart's scare visage consumes the screen...I felt my heart leap considerably.

So apparently this film comes on television some 300 plus times a year.  Watch it at any point, although it is a bit mesmerizing on the big screen and well worth watching in that context if possible.

They Can't Take Our Town: Marwencol (2010)

When a documentary filmmaker decides to do a character study it often proves to be an awful failure or a huge success. Fortunately for Jeff Malmberg, his study of mentally paralyzed Mark Hogencamp and his handmade fantasy world of Marwencol proves not only successful, but also transcendental at times.  It manages to display both the abyss of humanity and its moments of triumph while remaining accessible, entertaining and thought provoking throughout.  Furthermore, unlike a variety of documentaries of this nature, it keeps up an artistic value that allows for breathtaking cinematography, heartbreaking disconnect and a sobering acceptance of the tragedy that exists right in front of the human eye.

Marwencol's narrative is somewhat complicated, not unlike the stories created by Mark to explain his dioramas.  We are told from the onset that Mark's amnesia is directly tied to a beating he received after leaving a bar a few years earlier.  It is implied that Mark provoked said beating in a drunken stupor, but fails to recall precisely what he said or did.  As a form of therapy, Mark now builds and adds to a fictional model town he refers to as Marwencol, which is a combination of his name and two other real females he knows.  His town, is not a fictional escape per se, but instead a simulacrum of his own life, replacing the muggers with SS officers, and his ideal female with a time-traveling witch.  It is quickly apparent, as his attorney notes, that Mark uses the world to rationalize and accept the violent acts he previously received.  More so, it is made slowly apparent that Mark also cross-dresses, displaying a particular fascination with women's shoes.  As a replaying of the police interviews shows, Mark was attacked not because of a drunken argument, but because he admitted in public to cross-dressing.  He was a victim of a hate crime that left him severely maimed.  Thus Marwencol serves as Mark's world of comfort, but also as a form of artistic expression that is so fascinating and sincere that it lands him a show in Greenwich Village, New York. 

His trip to the city, though anxiety ridden, allows mark to come face to face with his past and affords him a chance to cross dress without criticism a moment he shows great pride in on screen.  In a touching set of closing shots, Mark creates a Marwencol within Marwencol, which allows viewers to assume that despite his loss of memory, Mark has come to terms with his life and accepts his act of therapy as an integral portion of his daily life.

The film is deeply philosophical and approaches issues of memory loss in a honest and direct manner.  It reminds those watching that memory loss is often tragic, yet in many cases, the loss of everything also allows a person to start over and right wrongs of the past.  Furthermore, it questions how much of a divide truly exists between the world of fantasy and reality.  As Mark's friends and co-workers show it is easy to sustain normalcy between both if everyone involved is willing to play along.  Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it touches upon the question of what legitimizes artistic expression.  As a friend of Mark's notes, his work is not ironic, like others who use dolls for art; it is very intimate and true to his feelings.  The photographs taken by Mark show this, as his replicas are often extremely detailed from incorporating his own personal photographs or adding makeup and downcast faces to display emotion.  It is art for the sake of release, not for the sake of commentary.  Mark and those around him understand that for him it is much more than making a name for himself, it is a means of emotional survival.

I am not extremely versed in documentaries, but this is one of the best I have seen to date.  I would encourage looking into not only the film, but the work of Mark Hogencamp as well, it is all available at this link.