Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life, starring Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey, is one of my favourite Christmas films. But I’ve always known there was more to the story and I discovered that in 1949, five years after the events in the film, George Bailey was spending Christmas Eve in an asylum wishing he could be home with his family when two demons, by the name of Monica Lynch and Frank Badger, dropped by with a tempting offer.
Spoiler warning: If you haven’t seen the movie then watch the movie before you read my little satire. There are spoilers. Amazon Prime has the original film available for streaming and NBC airs It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve.
Devil of a Christmas: Not every life is so wonderful.
A short story by James Hutchison
Frank loved the smell of desperation. Every demon did. And on Christmas Eve with the stores closing the smell of desperation was delightfully pungent. Oh, you wonderful procrastinators, thought Frank, what agony you put yourselves through just because you can’t get to the store in time to buy a few Christmas presents.
In the five minutes since he’d arrived at the Wellington Department Store, he’d already witnessed a half dozen fistfights. Three between two men, two between two women, and one between a man and a woman with the woman decking the guy and seizing the Kewpie doll in triumph as she headed to the check-out. If he’d had time, he would have given the bruised and bloodied man a chance at revenge, but he had other places to be and he was running late.
Monica, his partner, would be furious. That made him smile. He liked to make her furious. It’s just something demons like doing. Besides she took great pleasure in making his life a living hell whenever she could. Demons whether it’s the world of man or their own supernatural world live for the sole purpose of inflicting pain and suffering. And at Christmas even though the holiday was known as a celebration of love, charity, and kindness it was also a time of greed, envy, and gluttony and that made it Frank’s favourite time of the year.
Oddly as much as Frank loved to see others suffer and he got a good laugh at those who left things to the last minute the unfortunate truth was that he also happened to be one of those tortured souls who left things to the last minute. And this minute he was trying to figure out what to buy the boss. The Prince of Darkness. Good old Lucifer. What do you get the guy who has everything?
***
Where the hell is he thought Monica as she exhaled a blue cloud of smoke from her tar-coated lungs. Damn that little bastard. He knows how much I hate it when he’s late. He probably does it on purpose just to get under my skin. Although I have to admit I’d do the same to him if it annoyed him, but Frank never seemed troubled by time. And as frustrating as she found his tardiness he was a good partner. Probably the best she’d ever had. Together they were looking at a record year and getting George Bailey’s soul would be the cherry on top.
From down the hall came the scratched and dusty sound of a record playing Christmas music on a cheap phonograph. Bing Crosby was hoping for a white Christmas. The common room at Fairview Asylum was a depressing space painted lime green and festooned unevenly with aged and repaired Christmas decorations. Off in one corner of the room sat a lopsided pine tree. It was dried out and missing half it’s needles. It was decorated with a single strand of Christmas lights and a few hand-crafted construction paper ornaments made by the patients at Fairview. The dying pine was trying and failing to make the room feel festive. Monica thought it was perfect and no doubt added to the sad mental state of those condemned to spend Christmas behind Fairview’s barred and locked windows and doors.
Finally, Frank came sauntering in while whistling a tune and acting as if he had no idea he was running late. Monica hated whistling. Frank knew that.
“It’s about time you got here. They’ve got George scheduled for a lobotomy in less than an hour.” Monica dropped her cigarette onto the carpet and crushed it with her foot. “So, what’s your excuse this time?”
“Am I late? Sorry, I had no idea. I promise to do better.” He had no intention of doing better. “I guess I just lost track of time. I was out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping for one of my favourite people.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t. I wanted to pick up something for the boss, but I wasn’t sure what to get him.”
“He is hard to buy for.”
“And if you buy him the wrong thing. Well then.”
“You deserve to be punished.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what did you get him?”
“A scented candle.”
“What’s the scent?”
“Despair.”
“Good choice, I think he’ll like that.”
“I sure hope so otherwise there’s a pretty good chance he’ll crush my testicles.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. That’s what he did to Mort in accounting last year. Crushed his testicles and sent him to the Winnipeg division for a year. Cold in the winter. Hot in the summer. And not much to do. Although, it does create opportunities for us. Long cold winters are a breeding ground for discontent and boredom.”
“True enough. So, what did you get the boss?”
“Oh me, I got him a Nutcracker.”
“Did you?”
“I did.”
“You’ve certainly got a sadistic side to you, Monica, you know that.”
“No more than you.”
“Touche.”
***
As George entered the common room, he saw Monica and Frank bickering about something. He didn’t know these people and he was particularly depressed since he was spending another Christmas in the nuthouse. Oh, sure you’re not supposed to call it a nuthouse, but this was 1949 and that’s what it was called. A nuthouse. A looney bin. And it was hell. Psychiatry felt like it had more in common with voodoo than science and he wondered what in heaven’s name he’d ever done to end up in such a dismal place.
All George really wanted to do was go back to bed and have some time to himself not meet with these two. There wasn’t a lot of solitude at Fairview. You were kept under surveillance twenty-four hours a day. The doctor who ran the facility was a German immigrant by the name of Wolfgang Gerhard who had come to the United States from Argentina after the war. George didn’t like him very much. He seemed to delight in causing pain and George thought if evil was ever to be personified in a human, then this Wolfgang Gerhard would certainly be such a man.
George was wearing a light blue house coat and cotton pyjamas. He had been getting ready for bed when he was told that he was to go to the common room and meet with a couple of people there who wanted to ask him a few questions. And then he was to report to the surgical wing to meet with Gerhard to discuss some sort of medical procedure they thought might help him regain his sanity. He certainly didn’t need to regain his sanity. What he needed to do more than anything was get out of this place. If he wasn’t crazy when he came in, he felt certain he’d be driven crazy before they let him out.
***
Monica turned to see George heading towards them. George was tall and lanky in a Jimmy Stewart kind of way. “Ah, Mr. Bailey. Finally. And not a moment to soon. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Monica Lynch, and this is my associate, Frank Badger.”
“Hello George. What a pleasure to meet you,” said Frank as he took George’s hand and shook it warmly. “You’re a living legend where we come from, George. Did you know that?”
“A legend, really. Well, that’s news to me.”
“Good news, I hope,” said Frank. “You have an enormous capacity for suffering. Why lesser men would have buckled under long ago. But not you George. You may be battered and torn but you go on fighting the good fight, don’t you.”
“I believe every man in his heart knows the difference between right and wrong. And I know that doing the right thing means I have a clear conscience, and I can sleep at night.”
“Really,” said Monica, “you’re never troubled by how often other people have taken advantage of your good nature? I know I’d be upset.”
“I’ve only ever done what I felt was right under the circumstances and I have faith that one day things will be set right, and I’ll get out of this place.”
“So, life isn’t so wonderful here in Fairview I take it,” said Frank.
“Definitely not. This is an awful place.”
“Is it. How strange. From what I’ve been able to gather Fairview is considered one of the best mental health facilities in the country. How’s the food?” asked Monica as she lit another Lucky Strike.
“The food is slushy. There’s a lot of mashed turnips, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, creamed spinach, and rice pudding. Apparently, the doctors here believe that food can be a stimulant and a primary cause of delusional behaviour so the more bland the food the less likely a psychotic episode. It really does take the joy out of eating.”
Humans were so good at designing ways to take the joy out of life and here was a perfect example thought Monica. In fact, her and Frank were currently working on a project that in the future would provide millions of people with tasteless frozen dinners and meal replacement bars that would make meals monotonous and boring. Good food took time. But because people were always in a hurry they would rather give up on flavour and nutrition in favour of convenience. People were always trying to save time. But save time for what? Just so they could accomplish more. Work longer hours. Make more money. They were still going to die whether or not they had a million in the bank or a nickel in the bank. And all the while they were missing out on one of the real joys of life. Good food. “Shame you’ll be missing out on Christmas dinner again this year,” said Monica.
“Mary whips up quite the feast. Her homemade apple pie is sinfully good. Or so I’ve heard,” said Frank.
George still loved Mary, and it was her love that sustained him. “Mary’s a good cook and a wonderful mother and a devoted wife.”
A devoted wife thought Monica. That’s rich. George had no idea what Mary had done and although Monica was dying to tell him it could wait. All in good time. Instead, she said, “Sounds like quite the catch. You’re a lucky man, George.”
“When it comes to Mary, yeah, I am a lucky man. Life wouldn’t be worth much without her. But I doubt very much you’ve come here to talk to me about my marriage so, who are you two and what do you want with me? Are you two psychiatrists or something?”
“No. We’re not psychiatrists,” said Frank. “Although, I would say we share a keen interest in human behaviour and motivation.”
“Definitely. You see George my associate and I and our employer feel that you’ve been given a raw deal. Isn’t that right Frank?”
“A bum rap I’d say.”
“To put it bluntly,” said Monica, “you’ve been shafted.”
“You think,” said George.
“Oh, yes,” said Frank as he pulled a file out of his briefcase. “According to our records, you were charged on Christmas Eve 1945 with theft in the amount of 8,000 dollars from the Bailey Building and Loan.”
“That’s equal to $128,892.31 in the year 2024,” added Monica as she flipped ash from her cigarette into the paper machete poinsettia sitting in the middle of the coffee table in front of the couch they were standing beside.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s for context, George,” said Frank.
These two were a queer pair. They said things that didn’t make any sense to George. The year 2024. That’s seventy-five years in the future. Why would they be talking about seventy-five years in the future? All George cared about was clearing his name and getting out of Fairview and spending the rest of his life with Mary and his kids. He was looking forward to the day he’d be a grandfather and welcome a whole new generation of Baileys into the world.
“Listen,” said George, “I didn’t take that money. And I should have never been charged. The debt was repaid by friends and associates.”
“No one who has friends is a failure, eh George,” said Monica. Reminding George of the inscription Clarence his guardian angel had written in the copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer he’d given him.
“Although, not everyone is your friend are they George,” said Frank as he sat in one of the lounge chairs beside the sofa and leaned back enjoying the process of reeling George in. “Apparently a Mr. Potter who sits on the board of the Building and Loan pursued the matter of the missing money with Judge Hardy and you were charged with embezzlement since the original funds were never recovered.”
“Okay, so you can read a newspaper.” George was getting a bit frustrated talking to these two suits about everything that had happened. “That’s all true but maybe what you didn’t know was that I was at the end of my rope. Did you know that? Uh? I’d spent years fighting Potter and trying to make Bedford Falls a decent place to live and suddenly everything I’d worked for was gone. All I had was an insurance policy and I wasn’t thinking straight. I only saw one solution and so, I was thinking of killing myself but…but…”
“…but you were visited by an angel,” said Monica as she sat in a chair beside Frank.
“Now…now…now…hold on a second there. I never said that. The doctors here at Fairview have assured me that Clarence was nothing more than an illusion. You see, I didn’t really want to kill myself, so I conjured up Clarence in order to prevent me from doing something stupid. Clarence was just my subconscious protecting me without me realizing it.”
“George, you and I both know that’s not true,” said Monica.
“Why Clarence is as real as we are,” added Frank.
“He’s your guardian angel.”
“He saved your life.”
“And he showed you what the world would be like if you’d never been born.”
“You’ve made a real difference in so many people’s lives.”
“And yet,” said George, “here I am in the nuthouse.”
“Well, that’s because everyone thinks you’re nuts, George. So, you ended up here instead of prison by reason of insanity,” said Frank.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the sofa George,” said Monica. “You’ll be more comfortable.”
George stood for a moment longer and then sat on the sofa opposite Monica and Frank as the warm rich sound of Nat King Cole’s voice singing about roasting chestnuts drifted down the hall. “Alright I’m sitting,” said George. “Now will you two get to the point. I’m tired. It’s Christmas eve and all I really want is to be home with my family.”
“Well of course you do but you really don’t have a family to return to now, do you,” said Frank.
“Not since Mary divorced you and married Sam Wainwright her old boyfriend from high school,” added Monica as she inhaled another hit from her Lucky Strike and savoured telling George the soul-crushing news.
“Yes, Sam’s made a real success of himself with a little help from us and now he’s one of the richest arms dealers in America and with the Korean war on the horizon he stands to make millions more. And best of all he finally got to marry the girl of his dreams.”
“Now…now…now hold on a second there. We’re not at war with North Korea.”
“No? My mistake,” said Frank with a smile.
“And Mary is my wife. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your marriage was annulled, George,” said Monica.
“That’s not true,” said George. “Mary would never do such a thing.”
“Wouldn’t she,” said Monica as she took a drag on her cigarette and blew more smoke into the air. “You’ve been in here for almost four years George. That’s a long time. And Mary is only human. She has needs.”
“Longings,” said Frank.
“Just how long is she supposed to wait for you?”
“Come on George,” said Frank, “it’s no secret that a marriage can be annulled if one of the people in the marriage has been legally found to not be of sound mind. Or as your buddy Ernie, the cab driver would say, ‘That George Baily he’s just plain cuckoo.’”
“I’m not cuckoo!” George shouted as he stood up.
“Oh, we know you’re not cuckoo, and you know you’re not cuckoo but the judge, your wife, your mother, your children, your former friends and neighbours, and the doctors here at Fairview all think you’re cuckoo George,” said Monica.
“How is that fair?” added Frank.
“It’s not,” said George. “I’ve always tried to do the right thing and be a good Christian.”
“A good Christian,” said Frank rising from his chair. “Why George you’re one of the best.”
“Not only did you save your younger brother’s life but you gave up going to college so he could go instead of you,” added Monica as she stood. “Would your brother have done the same thing for you George? I don’t think so.”
“And let’s not forget,” added Frank, “on your wedding day when you were heading out of town for your honeymoon with Mary, you stopped the cab. And you and Mary used the money you’d saved for your honeymoon to rescue the Bailey Building and Loan when there was a run on the company at the start of the Depression.”
“And you gave your Uncle Billy a job even though – let’s face it George – Uncle Billy’s a bit of a lush and one of the main reasons you’re here. And in spite of that you haven’t said a thing about your Uncle Billy to the police, have you.”
“My Uncle Billy has a good heart but not a strong one. He’s old and prison would have killed him. I couldn’t let him go to jail. And he’s tried but he can’t remember what he did with the money. I know he didn’t steal it…he just lost it. It must have fallen out of his pocket and whoever found it kept it for themselves and never reported it.”
“Well George,” said Monica as she put an arm around his shoulder, “Frank and I know what happened to that money.”
“That’s right,” said Frank as he put his arm around George from the other side. “You see your Uncle Billy put the money between the pages of a folded newspaper.”
“That newspaper had a front-page story about your brother Harry – the war hero.”
“Your brother whose life you saved became a navy pilot who saved the lives of every man on a military transport by shooting down enemy aircraft that were attacking it.”
“Had you not saved your brother’s life every one of those men on that transport would be dead.”
“So, your Uncle Billy was bragging about you and your brother to Mr. Potter, and Uncle Billy gave Potter the paper to rub it in his face.”
“When Potter went into his office at the bank, he discovered the cash folded into the newspaper and other than his loyal bodyguard Max nobody else knew or saw a thing.”
“But we knew. Didn’t we Monica.”
“Oh yes, we knew because Potter made a deal with one of our associates when he was a young man to one day own everything in Bedford Falls, and now he does.”
“He owns the bank and the hotel and the grocery store and the lumber mill and he opened up a casino and a half dozen nightclubs and he’s turned Bedford Falls into a roaring success.”
“You yourself made a deal with an emissary from the afterlife to not kill yourself and in return Clarence got his wings,” said Frank. “And you got what?”
“Bugger all I’d say,” said Monica.
George stood there with Monica and Frank on either side of him as Monica’s cigarette burned down to the filter. Yes, he could see Potter doing what they said but what actual proof did they have and how even if that was the truth would they be able to get him out of Fairview? Something wasn’t adding up and George wasn’t ready to trust these two just yet.
“Not ready to trust the two of us just yet, hey George,” echoed Frank breaking his embrace.
“Okay,” said George stepping away, “here’s a thought. How do I know this isn’t just some sort of mind game you’re trying out on me? Is that it? Are you two trying to make me doubt my original story by going along with it and thereby pointing out how ridiculous it is and you’re trying to work some sort of psychological trick on me to make me realize it was all a delusion? Is that what’s going on?”
“Oh, no. We told you George. We’re not doctors. And besides your own doctors are doing a wonderful job of treating you,” said Monica as she flicked her cigarette butt towards the dry and combustible Christmas tree in the corner.
“More like torturing me, you mean.”
“Oh, the ice baths aren’t working,” asked Monica.
“No. They’re sheer agony.”
“What about the electroconvulsive therapy,” asked Frank.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s healthy for my brain.”
“Speaking of brains,” said Monica, “you are scheduled for a lobotomy later tonight. Maybe that will help.”
“A lobotomy.”
“Yes. It’s all the rage at the moment. Very popular,” said Frank.
“You see George, it’s an exciting new treatment where they basically insert an ice pick through the eye cavity into your brain and then they swish the ice pick around and mash up your frontal cortex.”
“That’s horrifying.”
“Maybe, but it’s for your own good George,” said Monica. “And besides António Egas Moniz just won a Nobel prize in Psychology for developing the procedure.”
“How’s that for an endorsement,” added Frank. “A Nobel prize.”
“That’s insane,” said George. “You can’t do that. This is America. People have rights.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised at what experiments people can get up to even in a free democracy like the good old U. S. of A.,” said Monica.
“So, where’s your guardian angel now George?” asked Frank opening his arms to the heavens.
“I don’t know,” said George. “I haven’t seen Clarence since he got his wings.”
“Well don’t despair we’re here to help you out,” said Frank.
“How?” asked George.
“Just give us your immortal soul,” said Monica as she lit another Lucky Strike.
“That’s it,” said George.
“That’s it,” said Monica as she exhaled and added to the haze drifting about the room.
My immortal soul thought George. Did he even have an immortal soul? Was that something that existed outside of his physical body? He’d always been a church-going Christian but like anyone he’d had his doubts, but those doubts had been washed away after his experience with Clarence.
And yet if there really was a heaven why had he been abandoned? He’d prayed to God that he’d get out of here and his prayers had so far gone unanswered. Or had they? Maybe these two were the answer to his prayers? After all God did work in mysterious ways. Or maybe he really was crazy and if he was crazy what did he have to lose? “Alright,” said George as he considered his logic, “you’ve got a deal.”
“We’ve got a deal. Really? Wow! I have to admit that was way easier than I thought it would be George,” said Frank.
“Well, maybe I am crazy,” said George. “And if I am how do I know you’re not just something I’ve conjured up in my subconscious after I’ve had 10,000 volts shot through my brain? So why not do the deal? I mean how do I know I’m not just lying on my bed in my room right now having a dream.”
“George, you can tell the difference between a dream and reality, can’t you? Of course, you can. Well does this feel like a dream?” asked Monica as she slapped George hard across the face.
“Jesus!” said George feeling the sting of being slapped.
“There’s a taste of reality for ya,” said Frank.
“Okay,” said George as he rubbed his left cheek with his hand, “let’s say you are who you say you are. Then tell me how are you two going to get me out of here? Answer me that.”
“It’s easy,” said Monica. “We simply offer Mr. Potter’s loyal bodyguard Max an opportunity to be rewarded for revealing the truth.”
“In fact, it’s a done deal depending on what you decide right now George,” added Frank.
“That’s it. That’s what you’ve come up with. Can’t you go back in time and fix things? You know before I got sent to the asylum. Before I tried to kill myself. Before I gave up going to college.”
“We’re not miracle workers George,” said Monica. “We’re demons. We live in the here and now just as you do. Playing with time – that’s God’s work. And we don’t work for God.”
“You’re demons.”
“Yes, we’re demons, George. First class. Who did you think we were? At the annual retreat in Miami last year both Frank and I were named honorary members of the Millionaires Club.”
“That’s a very exclusive club, George. Only demons who capture a million souls or more get in. And best of all, you get a special badge, a mug with your name on it, and a week’s vacation in Monte Carlo.”
“You see George,” added Monica, “you’re a special case and our organization certainly wouldn’t send a second-class demon for such a high-profile client.”
“Exactly. You say you’ve tried to live a good Christian life. You’ve made sacrifices and done good and how have you been rewarded?”
“With ice baths, electrical currents shot through your brain, and creamed corn,” added Monica.
“And let’s not forget,” said Frank, “in less than an hour you get a lobotomy.”
“Do you think if God and heaven really cared about you, they would have sent a second-class angel from the 18th century, with a taste for mulled wine, down to help you out?”
“Hell no!” said Frank.
“Would I get Mary back?”
“Would you want Mary back?” asked Frank. “I mean she did divorce you and marry Sam Wainwright.”
“What I want is for Mary to be happy.”
“Wow. Always thinking of others. You’re amazing George,” said Frank.
“So, do we have a deal?” asked Monica.
“Okay, I want to do a deal and get out of this asylum because the last thing I want is a lobotomy. I wouldn’t be much good with mush for brains. But I’m going to need more than brains. I’m going to need money. You can’t survive in this world without money. Especially in America.”
“But George, money won’t buy you happiness. All the rich people say so,” said Frank.
“Yeah well, it’s pretty hard to pay for food, clothing, and shelter with happiness.”
“That’s very true George,” said Monica. “So, what do you want? You want to own your own business so you can be on the cutting edge of new technologies like plastics. Done. You want to get into politics and influence the course of history. Done. You just have to tell us what you want, and we can make it happen.”
“Now…now…now hold on a second. What happens after I die? Do I go to hell if I sell my soul to you? Is that what happens? Will I still have a chance to get into heaven?”
“Only dogs get into heaven George and you’re not a dog,” said Frank.
“You’ll end up in purgatory,” said Monica.
“What’s purgatory like?”
“Pittsburgh,” said Frank.
“I like Pittsburgh.”
“Well then,” said Frank, “you’ll be happy in purgatory.”
“What do you say George? You want to get out of here?”
“Okay here’s the deal,” said George. “I want my kids to get a good education. I want my family back including my marriage to Mary. And I want Mr. Potter to pay for what he’s done.”
“Oh, believe me, he’ll pay,” said Monica.
“But what I really want to do is revolutionize the way this country’s economy runs,” said George. “I don’t want America to end up like Bedford Falls where one lying conceited greedy egotistical old man controls everything. I want to break up the monopolies that swallow up all the competition and destroy the local business owner and places millions into poverty.”
“Those are big plans,” said Frank.
“And I want universal health care,” said George.
“George as special as your soul is that’s a pretty tall order,” said Monica.
“Besides we’ve already done a deal with Ronald Reagan,” added Frank, “and his plans for the future of America and I’m afraid it doesn’t include a lot of health care although it does include a lot of deregulation.”
“I guess we’ll see how people like those trickle-down economics,” said Monica.
“What are trickle-down economics?” asked George.
“Something about as effective at spreading the wealth as lobotomies are to restoring mental health,” answered Monica.
“Don’t worry about it, George,” said Frank. “You’ll be dead long before the housing crisis and the bank bailouts and Twitter.”
“Why don’t you just focus on the life you want here in Bedford Falls,” said Monica.
“Alright, here’s what I want,” said George. “I want to set up an investment fund for small businesses and expand the Baily Building and Loan across America.”
“Done,” said Monica.
“I want to spend Christmas with my kids and have Christmas dinner with Mary.”
“Done, although I’d suggest you and the kids and Mary meet at your mother’s place for Christmas this year. I think that would be less awkward.”
“And just how exactly are you going to arrange that?” asked George.
“Oh, you know the power can go out or the pipes can back up and everyone ends up at your mother’s place as a last resort,” said Monica.
“And poor Sam Wainwright will be called away on urgent business I’m guessing,” added Frank.
Is that it George? Anything else?” asked Monica.
“No, I think that’s it. Let’s do this.”
“Excellent,” said Monica as she pulled a pen and contract out of her briefcase and placed it on the coffee table in front of George. “Just sign here and you’re free to go.”
“I’ll be free to walk out of here. No questions asked.”
“Of course you will. You’re not insane. Are you?”
“No, I’m not. But I don’t have a car, so I’ll need a ride into town.”
“We can give you a ride George. Just sign the papers, then grab your clothes and we can go,” said Frank.
“Okay, but I do have one more question I’d like to know the answer to.”
“Alright George. Shoot. What is it?” said Monica.
“Well demons are real, right?”
“Right.”
“And angels are real, right?”
“Right.”
“Does that mean Santa is real?”
Monica and Frank exchanged a look. They’d been asked this question more than once in their many years on earth collecting souls. Monica looked back at George and said, “George, Santa is as real as we are.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow. That’s incredible. There really is a Santa. You know what this means?”
“No. What does it mean?” asked Monica.
“This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
As George signed the papers Monica said, “You bet. Merry Christmas George.”
“Merry Christmas Monica.”
“And a Happy New Year George. Enjoy your turkey dinner.”
“Thanks Frank. I will. And you enjoy your week in Monte Carlo.”
From down the hall came the dulcet tones of Perry Como singing I’ll Be Home for Christmas, and this Christmas thought George – he too would be going home.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed Devil of a Christmas and if you did please feel free to share it with your family and friends. Do you have a favourite Christmas movie or two you like to share during the holiday season? I have several including Christmas in Connecticut, While You Were Sleeping, and of course It’s a Wonderful Life.
Christmas in Connecticut Starring Barbara Stanwyck
Christmas in Connecticut is a 1945 romantic comedy starring Barbara Stanwyck, Dennis Morgan, and Sydney Greenstreet. Basically, Barbara Stanwyck plays Elizabeth Lane a writer who has a popular magazine column where she shares recipes and writes about her perfect life with her husband and her newborn baby on their farm in Connecticut.
But the truth is she’s single, lives in the city, and can’t cook. Her Uncle Felix played by S.Z. Sakall is the cook, and he provides her with the recipes. Even her publisher Alexander Yardley played by Sydney Greenstreet is unaware of the deception and when Yardly decides that he and returning war hero Jefferson Jones played by Dennis Morgan should spend Christmas with Elizabeth Lane and her fictional family on their nonexistent farm the plot thickens.
Wanting to keep her job as a popular and respected writer Elizabeth concocts an elaborate hoax with the assistance of her Uncle Felix while agreeing to marry long time suitor John Sloan played by Reginald Gardiner who just so happens to own a farm in Connecticut. What are the chances? Of course, when Elizabeth and Jefferson meet, they fall in love and the fun comes from Elizabeth trying to keep the whole charade from falling apart.
While You Were Sleeping Starring Sandra Bullock
While You Were Sleeping is a 1995 romantic comedy starring Sandra Bullock, Bill Pullman, and Peter Gallager. Sandra Bullock plays Lucy Moderatz who works as a token collector for the Chicago Transit Authority and lives a lonely life while secretly being in love with Peter Callaghan played by Peter Gallagher. (I know confusing – Callaghan/Gallagher) Anyway, Callaghan is a handsome lawyer who takes the train from the station where Lucy works and doesn’t even know she exists.
When Peter is mugged and falls on the tracks and is left unconscious Lucy pulls him to safety. She ends up going to the hospital with him where he remains in a coma, and she is mistakenly identified as his fiancée. When Peter’s family shows up and meet the girl that saved his life and find out she’s his fiancée – the fun begins.
Of course, as Lucy gets to learn more about Peter and his family, she discovers that the person she actually falls in love with is his brother Jack Callaghan played by Bill Pullman who is a much nicer guy and a more down-to-earth person than his brother. This is a fun movie and one of the reasons I like it is because I’m a big fan of Jack Warden who plays Saul Tuttle, Peter’s Godfather and family neighbour.
Jack Warden was an extraordinary actor who often appeared in some of my favourite films that I’d also recommend including Being There starring Peter Sellers, The Verdict starring Paul Newman, and 12 Angry Men starring Henry Fonda. I know I’ve been talking about Christmas movies and those aren’t really Christmas movies but in my defence in the movie Being There, Chauncey Gardiner played by Peter Sellers does appear to walk on water.
It’s a Wonderful Life Starring Jimmy Stewart
And then of course, there’s It’s a Wonderful Life starring Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, and Lionel Barrymore. The film is based on the short story The Greatest Gift by Philip Van Doren Stern. In the short story, a disconsolate man who works at the bank by the name of George Pratt is standing on a bridge contemplating suicide and wishes he’d never been born when a stranger appears and grants him his wish. George returns to town posing as a door-to-door brush salesman and discovers that his younger brother, Harry, died in a swimming accident because he wasn’t there to save him, and his wife, Mary, is now married to another man who drinks heavily and mistreats his family. George returns to the bridge begging to have his life back and the stranger grants his wish. The film of course expands the story and has added several additional characters including Mr. Potter the central villain, Ernie the cab driver one of George’s friends, and Mr. Gower the pharmacist that George kept from accidentally poisoning a child during the diphtheria outbreak.
Since the film’s premiere on December 20th, 1946, It’s a Wonderful Life has grown in popularity and praise partly due to the fact that the film entered the public domain in 1974 and for a significant period of time television stations ran the film extensively at Christmas because they didn’t have to pay any royalties. That introduced the film to a much wider audience and helped cement its current reputation not just as a favourite Christmas movie but as one of the best films of all time. And like Luke Skywalker from Star Wars, or Annie Wilkes from Misery, or Willy Wonka from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, George Baily, Mr. Potter, and Clarence are three fictional characters from It’s a Wonderful Life that have become a part of the cultural fabric. In other words, they’ve entered the realm of answers to trivia and general knowledge questions during Quiz nights at your local pub. Now that’s success!
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So, check out any of those films if you haven’t seen them and now almost 75 years after It’s a Wonderful Life made its debut, I’d like to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I hope you are able to share Christmas Day with the ones you love and that the new year brings you plenty of success and good fortune.
