You Can't Take It With You (1938) - % % % %

This is by far my favorite film by Frank Capra.

I would love to live in the zany Vanderhof household. Headed by a heartfelt, contrarian grandfather, played by Lionel Barrymore, the home is filled with dancing, cheering and firework experimentation. Everyone does whatever they want to have fun. It's delightful.

For some reason the naivety that grounds all Capra films bothers me far less in this film than in his others. I'm usually disgusted by the sappy, non-judgemental and non-analytical approach of Capra's films. Perhaps because this film is based on an already established play, Capra's hand in the storyline is limited.

And yet, watching this film in my 30s and in 2011, I am bothered by several issues in this film that I don't recall when I first viewed it at the age of 20. Why does this cheerful family, in which everyone does what they want, have servants? Rheba, played by Lillian Yarbo, sure seems like a member of the family and she seems pretty happy, but she's still seemingly a cook and maid. It feels odd through modern eyes for this egalitarian family to have a black maid. She is a great dancer, though.


I am also troubled by the simplistic resolution of the father-son conflict. I suppose I shouldn't hope for more dynamic and fulfilling resolution, rather than the pair of looks and smiles we are offered. Everyone forgives the evil, nasty banker who destroyed lives and cruelly proclaimed his superiority over all those unfortunate to be poorer than he. Having decried him in court a week earlier, everyone hugs him now that he's remorseful and playing a harmonica with grandpa. I get that this particular family is very open and forgiving, but it still feels like a bit of a stretch. And I suppose I have found the Capra naivety that I may have over looked in previous viewings. It's still my favorite Capra film, but in my opinion the bar is set pretty low. There are moments of sincere humanitarianism and great screwball comedy in his films, but these are drowned in the sappy, marshmallow gooeyness of the superficial resolutions and impossible Pollyannaism overall.