Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 29-April-07
Spoiler Rating: Medium

You Can't Take It With You (1938)

Shortly after "You Can't Take It With You" begins, a genial old man (Lionel Barrymore) walks up to a busy bank teller (Donald Meek) and asks him what he is doing. Upon receiving a reply, he asks the teller why he's bothering to crunch numbers and gets him to admit he doesn't enjoy it. Then the old man persuades the teller to say what he would rather be doing, which is inventing. From under the counter the teller pulls an intensely adorable toy he designed with a fuzzy bunny that emerges, ears unfolding, from a head of cabbage. Clerks rush to look, a throng admires the toy, the teller feels unprecedented fulfillment, and the old man invites him to come and live with him in a house where everybody does just what he pleases. And they leave the bank together.

That's the movie in a nutshell.

"You Can't Take It With You" is the only Frank Capra picture I know where you have to be in the mood before watching it instead of getting in the mood while watching it. That's because, when viewed in a certain light, it appears to be a contrived piece of middle-class self-congratulation designed more to preach than to entertain. Unlike in most Capra films, where the hero is a little guy taking a stand with trepidation, the central character here is a complacent philosopher king who, if beamed from the Depression era to today, would most certainly publish self-help books. I speak of Barrymore's role as head of a band of eccentrics which includes a grown daughter who writes bad plays (Spring Byington), a granddaughter who dances around the house while making candy (Ann Miller), a grandson-in-law who plays the xylophone while talking football (Dub Taylor), a pompous Russian who cadges dinner every night (Mischa Auer), and a bunch of guys who set off fireworks in the basement. Unlike most people, they don't need steady work, apparently living off the earnings of an unspecified career which Barrymore turned his back on years ago. (In an odd scene a fed charges him with tax evasion, giving him the chance to extol the virtues of conscientious objection, but he then dismisses it with a hasty comment about being debt-free.) The movie makes it very clear that these folks are not only different than others, but better: more alive, more worthy of happiness, and more blissfully innocent of the sin of selling out.

At times the message comes on too strong, but at other times the movie, like that bunny at the beginning, succeeds at charming a receptive mind. The plot revolves around the unlikely romance between the wacky clan's youngest member (Jean Arthur) and the only son (James Stewart) of a bigshot banker and would-be ammunitions mogul well played by Edward Arnold. The couple is entirely engaging, and their engagement provides the necessary foil to the Barrymore way of life. What happens when a corporate shark meets the swami of self-actualization, with True Love hanging in the balance? I'm sure you can guess that the rich guy gets his comeuppance, but he also learns a valuable lesson about life. Dismiss it as overblown if you wish. There's enough Capra magic sprinkled throughout the movie that you can take it to heart if you're in the right mood.

Copyright © 2007 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.