I haven’t actually seen it, but think I know the one you mean. It seemed pretty well liked by my classmates in library school. I certainly find nothing objectionable about having the lovely and sophisticated Rachel Weisz portraying a member of my profession!
Serious answer - too much time spent reading (focusing on near objects) could lead to a need for glasses; in the universe where she has all those kids, she doesn’t have as much time to read.
Other answer - you know that joke with the punchline “I’ll just do it until I need glasses”…
I’ve never considered the film as great as its reputation indicates (though it’s a good film), and I found it disappointing. In addition, I never associated it with Christmas since I never saw it at Christmastime (until the 80s or so).
My perspective is different because I actually read “The Greatest Gift” long before seeing the movie (I read it in 1969, but didn’t see the film until 1973). The original story was much more interesting and more subtlely clever than the filmed version. The major change was that George Pratt (not Bailey) was not the head of the bank, but rather a lowly clerk who did nothing important, yet the story indicates that sometimes that is enough*. There was also not “angel gets his wings” crap.
I first saw the movie in the summer (in a late-night TV showing); I had liked Capra, and wanted to see this one. I was wondering how he could fill it out to a full length movie, and thought it would be hard to fill in the background. I was wrong about that: Capra did an excellent job of showing George’s life story. What he did poorly was the ending. George was ridiculously slow on the uptake. George Pratt caught on after one or two incidents, but George Bailey needed to get hit over the head to realize what was going on.
I also realized that, through much of the film, George Bailey was a doormat.
The final revelation is when I discovered the plot was ripped off from Robert Riskin’s screenplay of American Madness (which Capra directed). That film showed a banker who believed in loaning money to help the community** and standing up to other, grasping bankers. When there’s a run on the bank, his friends come through to raise the money to keep it operating, because he’s a good guy and friend to the community. IAWL has the run on the bank separate from the donations, but essentially, it’s the same plot, and Riskin deserves some credit for what Capra got credit for.***
I think ultimately it’s a good film, but not a great one, and not without its flaws.
*In addition, without George, Mary married an abusive husband; the movie seems to say that being an old maid is worse – though, to be fair, if Mary were married it might have had censorship issues.
** Nowadays, both Thomas Dickson (from American Madness) and George Bailey would be caught up in the subprime lending mess.
*** Capra was a known credit hog and often slighted contributors.
That was pretty damn funny Magiver
Boy, do I have the T-Shirt for you!
I was reminded of this Salon classic:
All Hail Pottersville! (Probably have to look at ad first.)
The writer is of the opinion that Bedford Falls is a snooze, while Pottersville is a happening place.
There is no such thing as privacy in Bedford Falls. The place is like Bentham’s Panopticon with picket fences. Take the scene in which George and Mary have just gotten married and are taking a taxi to their bridal suite in the abandoned house. The two newlyweds are simply trying to get in some heavy necking before they arrive at the freezing, waterlogged, no doubt lead-paint-riddled dump in which they’re supposed to consummate their marriage – is that too much to ask? Yes, it is too much to ask in Bedford Falls, because in Bedford Falls there is only one taxi driver: Bert. Not content with his sole claim to fame, having an obnoxious, potato-nosed puppet on “Sesame Street” named after him (which is actually far more than he deserves), the intrusive Bert insists on breaking into the hot and heavy moment with the inane statement, “If either of you two see a stranger around here, it’s me.” This gross violation of the see-no-evil taxi driver code sends the discomfited George off into a ludicrous speech which he concludes by making embarrassing “randy” animal noises.
Simple. Without him to keep her satisfied, she masturbated. And as we all know, that causes blindness. She probably had hairy palms too. Well, since she’s a girl she no doubt shaved them.
Okay, I TRIED to be deep, but you totally had me there. Donna Reed as the most beautiful woman EVER in Hollywood–show off hands? Donna Reed, virginity PERSONIFIED!, TOTALLY wanting it, show of hands?
Didn’t think there were other nominees.
The movie depresses me. Why can’t George have it all–friends and at least one exciting trip outside of Bedford Falls?
I have often wondered if there are any small towns left where this could have happened, or have they all been eaten up by the big stores.
I would love to find a little burg like that, you know?
Small hospital, maybe an old movie theater, city council meeting on the first Monday of the month where the worst complaint is the neighbor’s dog barking, an old hardware store and a corner grocery store where everyone shops because, by God, they just always have, that’s all!:mad:
sigh
Gettin’ old, y’all! 
Q
Near as I can tell from Capra’s movies, yer FUCKED, Quasi. Unless you can pull the likes of Donna Reed or Barbra Stanwyck from what they REALLY (created an adverb, as if it would tell) want, which is what you an I have to offer. 
You may be interested to know that Capra later commented that he should have made Mary Hatch into a strong, independent, professional woman (after Doris Walker in Miracle on 34th Street) instead of a withered librarian.
I remember some reference librarians from the public library in Redondo Beach, CA; they were of my parents’ generation, but one was an intellectual, dark-haired lady who often turned my head. George Bailey would really have felt inadequate dealing with her! (She did wear glasses–stylish, though, not steel-rimmed.)
If you think that’s a bad review, take a look at the one in The New Republic (I’ll post it here if you don’t have a source or link).
Doug, you, I, and the other dopers do not, accurately for Normals, describe which parts of a librarian are hot.[/Doug, but not others]
Actually, you know - I’m drawn to small town librarians?
I don’t know why they’re always portrayed as older, spinstery, crabby old ladies, but I’m sure they’re not all that way, and man, what if you found one who’s knowledge wasn’t limited to the Dewey Decimal System, and who had a pair of legs on her that looked really good on those ladders they have to climb?
And dropzone?
I don’t know man, but doesn’t it make you wanna hop into your car with jeans and one of those herringbone sportscoats with patches on the sleeves and see what’s out there?
As for Donna Reed, well she was just so damn sweet, wasn’t she? She’s the kind of woman who makes you wanna apologize for being a man!
And Stanwyck? I think she’d probably whup my ass if I put some moves on her. She seems like the kind of a woman who would have preferred to but the moves on us!
Q
Heck, all I can say is she had the face, the figure, the personality, the intellect, and the maturity! That would have cut through George Bailey like butter!
That’s not some great subversive insight you know. It’s kind of the point of a large part of the movie. If George’s life had been all peaches and ice cream, he wouldn’t have been on the bridge in the first place. The lesson of the movie was that it’s a wonderful life despite forgone dreams, lost loved ones, and unpleasant people, not that those things don’t exist.
My reason for hating the movie is almost the opposite. Here’s a man who, among other accomplishments, is directly responsible for saving at least two lives and indirectly has saved many others, and it takes divine intervention to convince him that his life is worth something. And that’s supposed to make us ordinary schmoes feel better about ourselves?
I didn’t know about the original story, but that’s the movie I would have liked to have seen.
Jimmy Stewart was great though, Donna Reed was definitely worth sticking around for, and in no way did Pottersville look like a nice place to live (to visit on a college road trip maybe, but not to call home).
I always thought that being married to Sam “hee haw!” Wainwright would be a more horrific fate than closing up the library.
I always thought the scene where George and Mary are walking home from the party was hilarious. Jimmy Stewart’s, “Well, this is a very interesting development!” after Mary loses her robe slays me, along with his responses to Mary begging for the return of the robe. “Situations like this don’t happen, at least not in Bedford Falls” and "“The police would be on my side.” I remember thinking the first time I saw that scene that it was a bit raunchy for a movie that old. For some reason I always thought movies of the 30s and 40s were very prim and proper.
I like this movie, and I see it as being along the same lines as the film version of
The Wizard of Oz, in that Dorothy realizes happiness was in her back yard all the time. Yes, George had all these grandiose plans, who doesn’t at the age of 20-something? Then life sets in and you end up blooming where you’re planted.
What, you don’t think Potterville was exciting? It looked like a pretty happenin’ town to me.