Capra once again examines American society's unholy collusion of big business, media, and politics as a force toxic to the interests of the common man, here represented by a vagrant minor league baseball washout (Gary Cooper) elevated to working-class hero in an opportunistic newspaperwoman's (Barbara Stanwyck) fabricated story. Vividly emerging from his stark critique of money-mad power brokers and the well-intentioned docility of the masses is a sense that Capra is giving the proletariat a stiff dose of tough love: the thematic fulcrum of the film is the scene in which corrupt D.B. Norton uses misinformation to persuade and plainly manipulate a stadium throng of supporters into turning on their hero. In evidence is Capra's clear frustration with administered peoples for their naivety and lack of strong principles that makes them implicit in their own subjugation, even as he praises their potential for constructive social change—in essence, affirming the power of the people even as he casts doubt on their ability to break free from corruptive influences. What could have been in lesser hands a one-sided, didactic rail against corruption and lack of virtue in a modern age is instead a rallying call for strength in numbers; a caution to the John Does of the world to resist becoming pawns to their avaricious subjugators and conspirators against themselves; and a lament for a future age in which commonplace imagination and faith are the catalysts for social change, the key to a reinvented world.
In the parlance of snide critical dismissal, is there "sentimentalism" in his vision? Sure, but it's beside the point—when an artist does the commendable work of doing no less than presenting an alternative model for a better human existence, a penchant for overdramatizing the matter is bound to creep into the conception. But this is not a filmmaker compromised to intellectual short-cutting or base heart-tugging, and if you find James Gleason's final words evidence of a "corny" sensibility, then I implore you to take a closer look, for reasons I've attempted to elucidate above. For me, Capra's artistic reputation is safe on evidence of this film, as well as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, It's a Wonderful Life, and It Happened One Night, and I'm sure many others I'll have the pleasure of discovering in the future.
In the parlance of snide critical dismissal, is there "sentimentalism" in his vision? Sure, but it's beside the point—when an artist does the commendable work of doing no less than presenting an alternative model for a better human existence, a penchant for overdramatizing the matter is bound to creep into the conception. But this is not a filmmaker compromised to intellectual short-cutting or base heart-tugging, and if you find James Gleason's final words evidence of a "corny" sensibility, then I implore you to take a closer look, for reasons I've attempted to elucidate above. For me, Capra's artistic reputation is safe on evidence of this film, as well as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, It's a Wonderful Life, and It Happened One Night, and I'm sure many others I'll have the pleasure of discovering in the future.