YOU ARE NOW IN BEDFORD FALLS
Hear me out on this one: Bedford Falls is the main character of It’s a Wonderful Life. And the plot is a romance between George and Bedford Falls.
The opening shots of movies are statements of intent, thesis statements. It’s a Wonderful Life announces itself less as the tale of one person than a window into a place. Above is a still of the first shot. Rather than zeroing on a specific individual, the first dozen shots (or so) of the film guide us past Bedford Falls landmarks as we hear the voices of various characters pray for George Bailey.
Rather than a hero’s tale or coming-of-age story, It’s a Wonderful Life (IAWL) is about the relationship between a community and an individual. It’s less a romance between George and Mary than between George and Bedford Falls. The drama is in whether this relationship is one that’ll last or not. Are the needs of a community too great for one individual to bear? Would George have been better off by being more selfish and letting Bedford Falls fend for itself? Did Bedford Falls and its unending demands drive George to that bridge, staring down into the water?
The place is the actor
By contrast, the vast majority of stories we enjoy do not foreground their place/context/environment at all, much less ascribe characteristics of agency to them. An exception might be Harry Potter, where Hogwarts takes on elements of being an actor in the story.1 But by no means does Hogwarts figure as prominently in the story as Bedford Falls does in IAWL!
Another illuminating comparison: in a way, IAWL is a re-telling of A Christmas Carol, but focusing on the life of its own Bob Cratchit (George Bailey) rather than Scrooge (Mr. Potter). The biggest difference between the two? IAWL foregrounds the whole neighborhood and town, rather than just one man.
And one more apropos comparison: Clarence, the Angel, pulls a copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer from his soggy clothes after getting pulled out of the river. Just like Tom Sawyer, George gets an opportunity to attend his own funeral, albeit in an inverted manner.2
And what does George learn? Rather than hearing the voice of a judging God or the eulogies of friends and family looking for words to express their grief, George sees the cold, practical effect of his absence on Bedford Falls itself. He sees not his own grave, but his brother’s. His erasure is less a personal crisis than an communal one. His absence is not just a gap in a set of personal relationships: his vacancy precipitates a massive shift in how the town developed, was designed, and ultimately devolved. In place of Bailey Park, there stands Pottersville.
Another significant difference between A Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life: Scrooge is judged based on his own sins and choices. George, meanwhile, is brought to the end of his rope by the unending series of misfortunes he can’t seem to escape. Much like the gym floor opening up and him dancing unwittingly into the pool underneath, George has been ambushed by unfortunate circumstances. He’s done all he can to lead a responsible and generous life, but no matter his choices, he can’t escape the calamities that befall him. If the “American Dream” is characterized by being rewarded for hard work in a meritocratic society, then It’s a Wonderful Life offers a vision of a sort of “American Nightmare,” where responsibility and diligence are met with disaster. George is more of a Job than a Scrooge. And Bedford Falls seems, to his eyes, allied with fate (or even God) against his success.
Bedford-Falls-ian love
So what then does this mean about the character of Bedford Falls? It turns out, like in so many great romances, that perception and reality are dramatically different, and the gap needs to be closed for consummation to be possible. And this story does end with a kiss, of sorts. Through the last hour of the film, Bedford Falls reaches out to George and embraces him. But this ultimate impromptu outpouring of generosity to bail George out is not between two individuals, but between a person and his home community. George and Bedford Falls, loving each other.
The Greeks distinguished between different types of love: eros is sexual, between two lovers. Philia love is between siblings. Agape love is magnanimous, humanitarian, universal love, like God’s love for the world. What kind of love does It’s a Wonderful Life exhibit? I’d argue it’s different from these three, a love reciprocated between an individual and a collective. George denies his suicidal impulse not because of self-love, but out of affection for all of his eros, philia, and agape loves, combined into the collective of Bedford Falls. And Bedford Falls reciprocates. Maybe we could call his kind of love belonging love? A synthesis of relational and communal love, all wrapped up into one. Bedford-Falls-ian love is belonging love.
Love in an American Nightmare
As you might be able to tell by now, I really, really love It’s a Wonderful Life.3 I watch it every year. It is, for me (and America, frankly), a kind of sacred text that rewards all the attention I can give it. I think the biggest reason I feel this way is this novel expression of what I think we all, in some way, feel: a hope that, despite our inability to perceive it, our home/community/network loves us and uplifts us. That we are not merely the sum of our own individual choices (Scrooge) or our individual loves (most romances, eros) or even standing alone before a divine seat of judgment (religious): instead, George Bailey’s relationship with Bedford Falls exhibits a communal embrace.
I don’t know how many of us have experienced this kind of love, this Bedford-Falls-ian, belonging love. Maybe it’s simply a fantasy vision from the imagination of Frank Capra, unrealistic to expect in the real world of globalization and social dissolution.
The honest reality for us at the close of 2023 is that the “American Dream” feels further out of reach than it has in a long time. Numbers indicate a booming American economy, but housing prices have pushed home ownership (and its attendant possibilities of Bedford Falls-esque belonging) out of reach for most Millennials and Gen-Zers. The Daily recently ran a sobering episode detailing the reality of what might be a further decade of renting for most first-time homebuyers. Maybe you feel this acutely: that, like George Bailey, you’ve done what was asked of you, and nonetheless you’re being swallowed up by unfortunate calamities over which you have no control. That you’ve seen far more of the “American Nightmare” than the “American Dream.” That the unrelenting stream of misfortunes is turning you into a “warped, frustrated young man person.”
“This thing isn’t as dark as it appears…”
And yet, we watch this film every year. We let this story speak to us and articulate a vision of what a good life together could look like. Even if this kind of love feels out of reach or unrealistic, it’s still desirable. It’s worth aiming for. And if I can be so bold, it might be more proximate than it may appear.
The best part of It’s a Wonderful Life? At his lowest point, George really, truly, cannot see or feel the love his community has for him. Sure, it’s been there the whole time: Mary’s constant care, Martini’s appreciation, Gower’s generosity, Burt the Cop’s attention,4 Ma Bailey’s tenderness… on and on. And yet George can’t see it. And so that love gets revealed to him. Whether we attribute that revelation to God, Clarence, or Bedford Falls itself… That love intervenes in his dark moment on the bridge and shows him what he can’t see for himself.
May that also be true of you, this holiday season! May the love that surrounds and enmeshes you — even or especially if you can’t perceive it — reveal itself to you and bring you joy. May you experience that sense of belonging love as tangibly as George does. The realities of your troubles may be as real as ever, just as they are for George (he never does find that missing $8,000…). But may that love be even realer.
I’d argue a large reason for the failure of the larger Harry Potter cinematic universe is the lack of attention to mise-en-place. Revisiting Hogwarts is massively valuable to the books’ and movies’ ongoing relevance. The rest of the magical universe totally ignores that. With the notable exception of the Hogwarts Legacy video game, where the entire draw of the game is simply being able to exist in the place of Hogwarts!
With respect to A Christmas Carol, Clarence figures as George’s Ghosts of Christmases past, present, and yet to come all in one.
It is certainly my favorite Christmas movie, and might even be my favorite film ever. I see it as a total inversion of Citizen Kane. Don’t sleep on It’s a Wonderful Life.
OK maybe some things really are a little too unrealistic…
I loved reading your interpretation, Wes. Thank you. I wonder if the love between God and humanity is not unlike the love between an individual and their community. It could that God is the individual and we are the community or we are the individual and God is the community, but I think that's what that "wonderful love" it.