[On July
30th, 1945, the USS Indianapolis
was sunk by a Japanese submarine on its way back from delivering the components
of the atomic bombs. That wartime tragedy became the basis for one of the great speeches in American
film history, so this week I’ll AmericanStudy that monologue and four other
knockout cinematic orations!]
On what the
concept of “Capra-esque” misses, and how an iconic speech embodies the director’s
genuine vision.
It seems to me
that one central reason why a great many AmericanStudiers and scholars embrace
filmmakers like Martin
Scorsese, Quentin
Tarantino, and the Coen
Brothers—all directors of whom I’m not always the biggest fan, as I highlight
in those hyperlinked posts—is that their visions of America and the world are
consistently dark and violent (to be clear, another reason is that they’re all talented
filmmakers and storytellers). [For whatever reason, Francis
Ford Coppola’s darknesses work better for this AmericanStudier.] If that’s
the case, it would help explain the frequent
dismissal and even disdain implied by the adjective “Capra-esque,”
a description often used to convey in shorthand the idea that a film or
filmmaker is overly saccharine, creating a fairy tale vision of society that
fails to grapple sufficiently with its darker realities and truths. Exhibit A
for that definition of Frank
Capra’s works would likely be It’s a
Wonderful Life (1946), not just because of its feel-good title and its unquestionably happy ending,
but also because of its idealized depiction of small-town Bedford Falls (as
opposed to the—gasp—night clubs and other horrors
of Pottersville).
As a critical
optimist, I’ll admit to being a sucker for happy endings, and as I wrote
in this post I find the ending of Wonderful
Life quite moving and profound. But I would also connect that ending to my
overarching concept of “hard-won
hope,” as for much of the film Jimmy Stewart’s George
Bailey has been anything but happy and life has seemed anything but
wonderful (a storytelling choice Capra apparently made in part because he saw
the darker side of Stewart that the actor’s
World War II experiences, like Capra’s own, had brought out). As with so
many of the happy endings in great
American stories, that is, the conclusion of It’s a Wonderful Life not only doesn’t erase the darknesses which
the story has consistently featured and explored, but it depends precisely on
such engagement with those darker sides of life for it to have any meaning and
power. From what I can tell, that dynamic far more accurately reflects Capra’s films and
perspective—and thus what we might mean if we call a story “Capra-esque”—than
does a simplistically saccharine tone.
The same can be
said for the most famous Capra speech (and another classic Jimmy Stewart moment
and character), Senator Jefferson
Smith’s filibuster in Mr. Smith Goes
to Washington (1939). Yes, Smith concludes his marathon speech by emphasizing
another idealized concept, contained in what he calls a “plain, simple rule: ‘Love
thy neighbor.’” But he recognizes full well that his fight for that rule might
well be “a lost cause,” which are (quoting another Senator and Smith’s icon who
has turned his back on the idea) “they are the only causes worth fighting for.”
The ending of this speech and scene is just as fraught and dark as those middle
sections of Wonderful Life, as
reflected by
the transcript: “I’m going to stay right here and fight for this lost
cause, even if this room gets filled with lies like these…Somebody will listen
to me. Some—[Smith collapses].” As Smith has noted, a person can “even die for”
lost causes, and it seems quite possible in this moment that he has given his
own life in service of this one. If that’s an ideal (and it is), it’s one with
a painful and dark side, which, as Frank Capra consistently depicts, is how we
always find our ideals, in Washington or in Bedford Falls.
Next movie
speech tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other movie speeches you’d highlight?
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