George Bailey has spent his lfe being selfless- now he has a huge debt because of it. Wishing he had never been born, an angel is sent to earth to make his wish come true. Instead, he shows hm what a world without George would be like.
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I guess this is kind of a great film, although nauseatingly over-popularized. And the more I see of Capra, the more I am fed up with his Americanism, sappy moralistic happy endings (the ridiculous whitewashing of corrupt American politics at the end of Mr. Smith pisses me off to no end), & I can't help but feel like there's an undercurrent of white supremacy permeating his entire oeuvre. But that's Hollywood I guess.
They just don't make them like this anymore. It makes sense that Capra was ahead of his time and that it wasn't appreciated or an instant classic when it was released. However, I often think of this film and what it would be like if I weren't born. Then I realize that I have a purpose, even if it seems invisible to me at the time. What a gift this film is!
This movie begins and you fall right in love with it; then it ends, and you become passionate about it forever. One of the most beautiful movies Ive ever seen. "Dear George, remember no man is a failure who has friends. Thanks for the wings! Love, Clarence"
Capra alchemizes sentimental hogwash into humanist gold, and Christmas is redeemed once again. This film is an essential part of my year. To watch George and Mary gaze into one another is to renew one's compact with the idea of love, fiercely and without embarrassment. One needn't believe in angels to affirm that faith is the substance of things hoped for, and to wish Clarence godspeed. The light of the moon will do.
Movies (and people) are forgetting what films are made for. When we see this type of film, with a truly message and a well-made storytelling we realize that are men - like Capra - who born with the gift of filmmaking.
I cannot accept intelectual folks with their sh*ts about the way films are supposed to be incomprehensible.
When movies stop to be done to arouse feelings, I resign myself to Cinema.
I hate how Its a Wonderful Life gets lumped in with the standard playlist of Christmas movies when its really so much more than that. This is easily the kind of movie I can't stand in lesser hands, but in Frank Capra's its a thing of beauty that never fails to reduce me to a weeping mess at the end or a little misty at the very thought of it.
the perfect example of the communication possibilities of cinema. and so the power of cinematic art to touch through the eyes the deeps of a cinema spectator --in this case, me. in other words: the perfect way to reach the real center of my heart