Frank Capra and Ayn Rand aren’t names that are often mentioned together. Yet the cheery director of Capra-corn and the dour novelist who created Objectivism have much in common. Both were immigrants who made their names in Hollywood. Both were screenwriters and employees of the film studio RKO. And during the last half of the 1940s, both created works of enduring cult appeal, Capra with It’s a Wonderful Life and Rand with The Fountainhead.
Capra and Rand were also both masters of sentimentality, a literary form that is foreign to those of us weaned on irony. Our inability to appreciate sentimentality leads us to dismiss Rand and Capra as amusing but minor talents rather than as gifted storytellers. Yet each produced work that will outshine their more critically acclaimed peers. People will still be reading Rand’s novels long after the works of Sinclair Lewis and Norman Mailer have been forgotten. And Wonderful Life has already earned its place on the short list of great American films, surpassed only by Citizen Kane and The Godfather Part II.
My purpose, however, is not to defend the genius of these creators but to compare two of their protagonists, The Fountainhead’s Howard Roark and Wonderful Life’s George Bailey.
To anyone familiar with both works it would seem that the two characters could not be more different. I contend, however, that they are not only similar but a variation on a common archetype.
Howard Roark, for example, is an idealistic young architect who chooses to “struggle in obscurity rather than compromise his artistic and personal vision” by conforming to the needs and demands of the community. In contrast, George Bailey is an idealistic young architect-wannabe who struggles in obscurity because he has chosen to conform to the needs and demands of the community rather than fulfill his artistic and personal vision. (Howard Roark is essentially what George Bailey might have become had he left for college rather than stayed in Bedford Falls.)
While both represent the artistic, ambitious, talented individual who is surrounded by stifling mediocrity, each character’s story unfolds in dramatically different fashion. Rand portrays Roark as a demigod-like hero who refuses to subordinate his self-centered ego for the wishes of society. Capra, in stark contrast, portrays Bailey as an amiable but flawed man who becomes a hero precisely because he has chosen to subordinate his self-centered ego to society.
(Ironically, Rand’s protagonist has become something of a cult figure, an ideal to aspire to, while Capra’s hero, a far darker and complex character, is considered an “everyman.” Such a misreading is laughably absurd. Howard Roarks can be found just about anywhere. Although they may not be as talented as drafting or speechifying, the self-centered libertarian fratboys found on every college campus exemplify Roarkian morality. But while Roarks are all around us, where can the George Baileys be found?
Every Christmas audiences flatter themselves by believing the message of Wonderful Life is that their own lives are just as worthy, just as noble— just as wonderful—as the life of George Bailey. Despite the fact that the left their smalltown communities for the city, put their parents in an “assisted living facility”, and don’t know the names of their next door neighbors, they truly believe that they are just like Capra’s hero.)
But what makes George Bailey one of the most inspiring, emotionally complex characters in film is that he continually chooses the needs of his family and community over his own self-interested ambitions and desires – and suffers immensely for his efforts.
Although sentimental, Capra’s movie is not a simplistic morality play. In the end, George is saved from ruin but the rest of life remains essentially the same. By December 26 he’ll wake to find that he's still a frustrated artist scraping out a meager living in a drafty old house in a one-stoplight town. In fact, all that he has gained is recognition of the value of faith, friends, and community and that this is worth more than anything else he might achieve. Capra’s underlying message is thus radically subversive: it is by serving our fellow man, even to the point of subordinating our dreams and ambitions, that we achieve true greatness.
This theme makes Wonderful Life one of the most counter-cultural films in the history of cinema. Almost every movie about the individual in society—from Easy Rider to Happy Feet—is based on the premise that self-actualization is the primary purpose of existence. To a society that accepts radical individualism as the norm, a film about the individual subordinating his desires for the good of others sounds anti-American, if not downright communistic. Surely, the only reason the film has become a “Christmas classic” is because so few people grasp this core message.
The fans of The Fountainhead are therefore not likely to appreciate Wonderful Life. Indeed, the messages are so antithetical that only a schizophrenic personality could truly appreciate both George Bailey and Howard Roark. For even though they are surprisingly similar characters, when the spell of sentimentalism has faded the contrasts become clear.
For instance, Roark lives to create inspiring works of architecture but cannot do so without relying on others. When society fails to appreciate his “genius”, his egotistical purity leads him to engage in a massive destruction of private property. By the end of The Fountainhead Roark is revealed to be an infantile, narcissistic, parasite.
Bailey, on the other hand, has all the marking of a repressed, conformist, patsy. He lives for others (a sentiment that would make Ayn Rand gag) rather than “following his bliss.” He compromises everything but his integrity. And yet he discovers that he has all that makes life worth living.
I admire the genius of Capra and Rand. Each has given the world an enticing vision of the role of the individual. But given the choice, I’d much prefer to live in a world with more George Baileys and fewer Howard Roarks.
1
Great posting - that's a dead-on analysis of Bailey vs.
Roark.
You're right about Capra in that "the individual subordinating his desires for the good of others sounds anti-American, if not downright communistic." The difference, however, between Capra's vision and, say, Stalin's, is that in Capra's films, the individual serves the community motivated by love and joy. Few filmmakers do as fine a job as Capra at capturing true joy on screen. IMHO, that's why Wonderful Life has become a classic.
I'm not so sure that George Baileys are as rare as you might think. In every town in America, there are talented, brilliant individuals who chose their family and community over self-promotion. For better or worse, "promising musician stays home with kids" is much less newsworthy than "music genius releases great new album [but divorces spouse and alienates children in the process]". (Music was chosen as a random example - the same could be said of law, architecture, writing, politics, whatever.)
posted on 12.20.2006 8:27 AM2
Joe:
If there has been any doubt in your mind as to why your life has been so difficult, it's time to stop blaming it on your upbringing. It's obvious that you are admitting to being "a schizophrenic personality." ;)
posted on 12.20.2006 8:41 AM3
Given the season, the obvious followup to this essay would be that classic Christmas Special, Ayn Rand's "A Selfish Christmas." John Scalzi has a synopsis:
The 10 least successful holiday specials of all time
4
The Fountainhead was the only fiction work of Ayn Rand's that I read but I have always wondered what it would be lilke to sit with her as A Wonderful Life and hear her thoughts on it.
The interesting thing is that George is a better businessman because he is unselfish. George produces a better product (nicer houses than Potter's slums) and sells them at a lower price. It is Potter who doesn't care about his customers. It is Potter whose only way to compete is to steal from and frame his competitor unjustly.
While it is easy to say that George almost seems like a communist isn't it Potter who looks more like some mid-level Communist Party beauracrat who produces a substandard product, uses the law to go after those who show him up and appears to put all his company's resources into having an opulant office with a posse of secretaries, assisstants and other hangers on.
Peter Druker and other management experts argued that success comes from being dedicated to a mission and not simply a creature seeking pure profit. I'd imagine Rand would have said the movie was anti-business because of the way it portrayed Potter but the reality is that Bailey was the true businessman. I've known a few people who own their own business and as a rule they do not spend their money on fancy offices or numerous secretaries. They actually live quite frugally and are often quite generous. They are often generous enough to attract a group of people who depend upon them and part of the owners' motivation is a sense of obligation to take care of all the people who have come to depend upon them being successful. Quite the opposite of what Rand seemed to have in mind. She depicted a rather lonely world where everyone was only concerned with their own individual transactions....
Rand's ideal world seemed to be one where everyone was a freelancer! But this contradicted her idealization of corporations and businesses which often become mini-bastions of socialism! Even more ironic Roark needs to be a parasite in order to fit into Rand's utopia. Only because so many corporations exist do they need the big buildings that Roark is so good at designing. When he cannot sell his designs he must work hard at manual labor literally digging ditches!
Rand's Roark and Capra's George have in common that they both share strong individuality. George is sure of himself so he is strong enough to sacrifice his passing wants for the things he considers important. He is able to help so many people because he is himself strong enough to do so.
5
Nice entry, Joe. My compliments.
To me, Rand's message is consistent throughout her fiction and non-fiction: It's not just A-OK to be a greedy, selfish bastard, it's a moral imperative. This is why so many upper-middle class fratboys in college fall in love with Objectivism and use it to justify their conservative politics.
Capra's George Bailey is a very difficult and dark protagonist. I disagree with the way you've presented him here, Joe, because you gloss over the fact that his acts of altruism haunt and enrage him. He is pained to the marrow at having to postpone his goals, and is a tragic romantic at best.
Comparing these two characters would never have occurred to me and I found the exercise worthwhile. Tip o' the wing to you, Joe.
posted on 12.20.2006 10:55 AM6
Hmm, great post, Joe and your analysis of Bailey and Roark is accurate, though I was confused as to your thesis by your intro: I thought you were going to suggest they were similar.
Couple thoughts: I'm not so sure It's a Wonderful Life has become a Christmas classic because people have missed its real point. I think people actually resonate at some level with the self-less ideal that Bailey embodies (albeit imperfectly); I think the real point does hit people, perhaps if only as a wishful ideal.
Moreover, It's a Wonderful Life also appeals to the American sensibility that "it'll all work out in the end," as long as you act rightly. You will be vindicated if you stay true to 1) yourself (Roark), or 2) a more selfless ideal (Bailey).
Of course, the happy ending doesn't always happen (in this life), which is why I think both stories (while they each have great points and are valuable), fail to represent an accurate view of the world.
Add a dose of The Power and the Glory, a Savior and the eschaton hope and those stories would be more realistic.
7
Anyone who gets to marry Donna Reed has won the lottery of life!
posted on 12.20.2006 11:36 AM8
Joe,
Brilliant!
I also agree with giggling, I think most viewers see the selflessness of Baily and know deep down they aren't like that, but then rationalize it away.
I do agree with you that his darkness is overlooked. I hadn't thought of it myself until you mentioned it, and then reviewed the movie in my mind.
You are right, he's very dark in places! How nice for me, since I only too well acquainted with my own dark side, and believe that all of us have one lurking deep down inside.
Baily is a dark, complex, frustrated man. Yet by sacrificing all, he finds what really counts - and being happy isn't necessarily needed in the end.
I've been doing a lot thinking about just those things lately and your post has helped my thought process along. Thanks!
Merry Christmas!
posted on 12.20.2006 11:42 AM9
Great post, Joe.
I'm wondering - if one realizes that the surest path to personal happiness and fulfillment is to selfless serve others, is that selfish?
posted on 12.20.2006 11:53 AM11
Joe,
You wrote, "People will still be reading Rand’s novels long after the works of Sinclair Lewis and Norman Mailer have been forgotten."
I have no desire to defend Mailer or Lewis, but I suspect that Rand's fiction will more likely be placed on the level of Edward Bellamy's *Looking Backward* -- only read by puzzled specialists trying to determine how such a thing was ever popular.
posted on 12.20.2006 12:46 PM12
How selfless was George Bailey really? During the run on his Savings and Loan that killed his honeymoon wasn't it obvious that he wanted to save it and keep old man Potter from scoring an easy victory? While George has his dark moments I never get the sense he is really unhappy doing the good things he did. On the contrary he does indeed want to do what he does.
posted on 12.20.2006 1:28 PM13
Anyone here ever read "It Cant' Happen Here" by Sinclair Lewis?
posted on 12.20.2006 1:35 PM14
I think you're overcomplicating (and hence over-praising) George Bailey. I don't think his frustrations and disappointments are flaws, or that he finds fulfillment in self-sacrifice.
I think that Bailey's disappointment is real and his frustration is a natural reaction to never getting to do what he really wants. He's entitled to feel that way. He recognizes a greater duty to the family business and the community, and so he accepts his fate, but that's not to say he's better off that way, nor does he, nor, I think, does Capra, believe that he is. He would be better off, and very likely happier, if he'd been able to follow his own dreams, but circumstances (and his willingness to accept them) didn't allow that. He's a true victim of bad fortune, and he feels like one, and he is right to feel that way.
Capra's message, I think, is that, his disappointments notwithstanding, George finds he still has a good life by way of the friendship, admiration, and community that he has earned. He has earned it by his selflessness, but that does not mean that a life of selflessness was better for him than a life of pursuing his own goals. He has found a kind of happiness in spite of the life he's been forced to live, or, more correctly, he has found that there is a kind of happiness in that life even if it's not the kind he was hoping for. But that's not to say that was the best path for him; his original plans would probably have been a better one. The fact that his dreams were thwarted doesn't mean he has to be completely miserable all the time, but the fact that he's not completely miserable all the time - or even finds something "wonderful" in his unchosen life - does not mean he would not have been better off if his dreams were realized.
I don't think Capra's selling conformity. I think he's just telling us that there's value in small, unseen things, and in the regard of friends and family. That's all fine, but it's not a reason not to pursue your dreams.
posted on 12.20.2006 3:36 PM15
Good point Kevin. Another truth is that often our expectations and plans of what we will do with our lives when we are young are very different from what we actually end up doing. We often, as youths, view the type of lives we end up living as boring and mundane but in reality they are often richly rewarding.
Bailey's life might have seemed dull from a child's perspective but in reality he participated in two massive historical events (the Depression and WWII), built a nice, clean modern town and was a successfull business owner.
posted on 12.20.2006 4:41 PM16
I think you're overcomplicating (and hence over-praising) George Bailey. I don't think his frustrations and disappointments are flaws, or that he finds fulfillment in self-sacrifice.
Sometimes I wonder if KTK has some genetic predisposition to disagree with Joe. Joe never said his frustations and disappointments are his flaws. George Bailey's flaw is that he has had "A Wonderful Life", but thinks himself a failure even to the point of contemplating suicide. That was the whole point of Clarence's visit, to show George how important his life was and how different and worse things would be if George never was. George's frustations and disappointments are what makes him a hero, not what makes him flawed. It is his refusal to recognize the good that he has done that is his flaw.
posted on 12.20.2006 6:09 PM17
The only problem with Ayn Rand as a novelist is that she can't write. No one can pack fewer thoughts into more verbiage than Rand. And those thoughts (Objectivism) are hideous.
posted on 12.20.2006 7:18 PM
18
Ucfengr,
Perhaps Kevin's use of the term "flaw" was a little unclear, but his point is well-taken. I agree with the substance of his point, it's a very pertinent amendation of Joe's original post.
That aside, what struck me the most about Joe's post is how clever and interesting it is. Hats off to Joe for coming up with such a good concept for looking at these two works of art.
I don't agree with every last detail of what Joe has written here, but Joe's purpose wasn't to persuade everybody of his brilliance and correctness, but to give us something smart and spiritual to reflect upon. Thank you, herr blog-meister!
My high school film teacher, John Loose, had a very interesting take on "It's a Wonderful Life". He noted that it is, perhaps unintentionally, a devastasting critique of American capitalism. Why? Because the only thing that prevented beautiful Bedford Falls from turning into cr-ppy Pottersville was the deus ex machina of Clarence, George's guardian angel. In the real world, the Bedford Falls's are few and far between, and the Pottersville's are all too common.
I never embraced Mr. Loose's interpretation, but it does have a compelling logic to it. I think the Joe Carter/Kevin Keith analysis makes the most sense.
One more thing: In my experience, this is the only post at the E.O. with more than a few comments that has elicited universal appreciation. I think that's pretty cool.
posted on 12.21.2006 5:45 AM19
Why? Because the only thing that prevented beautiful Bedford Falls from turning into cr-ppy Pottersville was the deus ex machina of Clarence, George's guardian angel. In the real world, the Bedford Falls's are few and far between, and the Pottersville's are all too common.
True in the movie but not in real life, IMO. You presume that IRL someone like Potter easily could become so successful that he 'owned everything in town'. Potter's business philosophy seems to be to nurture contempt and hatred of his customers. I doubt such a method could work well against someone like George Bailey.
Notice that Potters crappy slums look old and Bailey's new development looks modern and a lot closer to what we are used to seeing today in the US? That's not an accident, the real George Baileys may have paid themselves a little more and taken a few more vacations but there were and are more of them than there are Potters.
posted on 12.21.2006 4:57 PM20
Boonton,
You presume...
I was assuming the voice of my teacher, John Loose. I, personally, was reluctant to wholeheartedly accept his theory at the time, but I did appreciate its cleverness and subversiveness.
Mr. Loose gave two examples, in particular, that were fairly compelling.
When the camera pans down Main Street in the quiet small-town version of Bedford Falls, the town seems to be a living Christmas postcard. That benign version seemed less typical of American towns than the harsh, garish commercial-strip version of Main Street in the mundane Pottersville.
The second example was George Bailey's reception in the bar. In the Pottersville version, he gets into a pathetically one-sided brawl and is tossed out unceremoniously on his butt. That, and the overall seediness of the bar and the almost palpable despair of some of its patrons, seemed a lot more true-to-life than the gentle, almost homey vibe that emanated from the Bedford Falls pub.
Remember, too, that we were discussing the landscape of 1946 from the vantage-point of circa-1980. The world is a lot different now.
posted on 12.21.2006 5:37 PM21
Hey, what happened to "Max" (he seems to have written a comment that got deleted)?
posted on 12.22.2006 1:06 PM22
Joe, I think this is your best post and possibly one of the best posts I've seen in my time reading weblogs. Wonderful stuff. I think my choice for Christ came at a time when I loved Ayn Rand's novels, so Rand was my other option. Objectivism would have been my home had I not been touched by the Lord and his church.
posted on 12.26.2006 8:20 AM