The USPS has issued a set of four stamps honoring great film
directors and the films for which they are most remembered. The four selected
are: John Ford (The Searchers), John Huston (The Maltese Falcon), Frank Capra
(It Happened One Night), and Billy Wilder (Some Like It Hot). We will be
exploring the lives and work of these directors over the next several weeks. In
this post LR Simon discusses You Can’t Take It With You (1938).
If you haven’t seen Frank Capra’s You Can’t Take It With You, some of the subject matter will surprise you. His recurring themes of
class relations, the corrupting influence of money, the seemingly powerless
individual going against a wealthy adversary, and cynicism being overcome by
the inherent goodness in people all play significant roles in the story, but
some of the minor points seem timely now as well, especially Tony Kirby’s
(James Stewart) interest in alternative energy.
Jean Arthur plays Alice Vanderhof, a secretary in the bank
owned by A. P. Kirby (Edward Arnold), Tony’s father. Tony’s mother (Mary
Forbes) strongly disapproves of the match, a feeling that intensifies when Tony
brings his parents to the chaotic Vanderhof residence to meet Alice’s family.
The meeting doesn’t go as Alice had planned – between an unprepared dinner for
which the hot dogs are still to be purchased, the pet crow (named Jim), Alice’s
constantly dancing sister Essie (Ann Miller), and a police raid, approval from
the Kirby’s seems unlikely.
Like Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, You
Can’t Take It With You features a courtroom scene that descends into chaos
while the presiding judge watches, amused. Unlike Mr. Deeds, You Can’t Take It
With You has a prison sequence, where Grandpa Martin Vanderhof (Lionel
Barrymore) and A. P. Kirby talk about whether being wealthy is important at
all. As a result of this conversation, Kirby has a change of heart about the
Vanderhofs, and especially about Alice, when he realizes that he will lose his
son if he doesn’t make significant changes in the way he treats his son. Even Mrs.
Kirby begins to soften toward the Vanderhofs.
James Stewart is charming as Tony,
and Jean Arthur is very good as Alice; they’re good together – but their
romantic comedy section of the film follows well-worn paths leading up to a
predictable conclusion. Grandpa Vanderhof and A. P. Kirby have the more
interesting relationship – on first viewing, the change Kirby undergoes doesn’t
seem as predestined as one might expect.
Barrymore has the unenviable task
of pontificating at length during the prison sequence and making the lines seem
like something a real person would say. His lines during this sequence would,
with some editing, make a fine speech at a political rally. At one point he
says: “Lincoln said, ‘With malice toward none, with charity for all.’ Nowadays
they say ‘Think the way I do, or I’ll bomb the daylights out of you.’” Capra
has a reputation for making movies that radiate optimism, but he has enough of
a realist’s perspective to keep that optimism from turning saccharine.
The portrayal of the Vanderhofs’
two black servants, Rheba (Lillian Yarbo) and Donald (Eddie Anderson), can make
for uncomfortable viewing for modern audiences. They play to stereotypes for
laughs; Capra usually made a point of treating all of his characters with
respect and love, even as he had them engage in ridiculous business (e.g.,
Deeds playing the tuba when he’s told of his inheritance), and while he didn’t
treat Rheba and Donald with malice, it’s difficult to see the same depth of
characterization that the white characters have. It’s easy to dismiss Rheba’s
and Donald’s nondimensionality as being part of the time (1938), and any
presence of black characters on the screen as an important step in the progress
of black actors in mainstream cinema, but in other films Capra manages with
other black characters – extras, really, as they have no lines – to show more
dignity and depth of humanity than he does here, that his approach here is
comparatively lazy, even though Rheba and Donald have more screen time, lines,
and names.
Despite its shortcomings, and if it
weren’t for certain other of Capra’s films, You Can’t Take It With You could be
considered the quintessential Frank Capra movie – part screwball romantic
comedy, part social commentary, populated with memorable characters, and a few
unforgettable highlights.
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