Possibly the most dominant filmmaker of his era and a director whose films acted as a soothing balm for the woes of The Great Depression years in the US, Frank Capra and his work came to exemplify the way the world saw America, and the way America saw itself. That is until the 1960s arrived, and to a new generation of young filmmakers Cara seemed an irrelevant figure who represented classical and outmoded Hollywood, at a time when independence was the mantra.
But Capra, once a young and penniless immigrant from Sicily, who rose through the ranks of early Hollywood to become one of the Great American storytellers, was nothing if not resilient, and after writing a 1971 autobiography called The Name Above the Title (a book that is “almost entirely fictitious” according to his biographer Joseph McBride) he became a public figure once again, talked about It’s a Wonderful Life, his own personal favourite, and assumed a revered status for young audiences eager to embrace a vision of America where ideals win out.
Matthew Hall’s engaging – if rather straightforward – documentary Frank Capra: Mr America, charts this fascinating journey in great detail as it aims to unpick Capra’s complex relationship with America. Extensive and astute use of archive footage – mainly from his films, but also a scattering of home movie material and footage from television interviews from later in his life – is balanced with interviews with film historians, archivists, writers, filmmakers and even a film studio head. They are all quite serious and only touch briefly on controversial aspects of Capra (such as racism and bigotry) but at least Tom Rothman, CEO of Sony Pictures Motion Picture Group – which includes Columbia Pictures, where Capra made most of his successful films – adds some blunt humour to proceedings, and is quick to admit that without Capra there would have been no Columbia, and vice versa.
Capra’s complexities are just what makes him so fascinating. As director Matthew Hall says in his statement: “Just look at the names he’s been called: idealist and cynic, insider and outsider, patriot and subversive, communist and fascist, pioneer and traditionalist.” As Capra says in a television interview, “thanks to America” he was given his chance, adding that, “I did want an education…I was ashamed of my parents because they couldn’t read and write and I wanted to get out of that ghetto.” Jeanine Basinger, film historian and founder of the Frank Capra Archive, recalls that when he came to writing his book, his first words were: “I hated being poor… “
Rage at being at the bottom of the pile propelled him for the rest of his life. He arrived in Hollywood and learned about film, taking on various jobs – from janitor to assistant director and assistant cameraman – and eventually found the perfect fit in the late 1920s at Columbia. As historian Sam Wasson describes it, “baby director and a baby studio”. He initially tried any kind of movie genre, but with films like American Madness and Platinum Blonde he began to develop his style, featuring social reflection on the Depression era – wanting to see people helping each other.
The film that would see him truly break out was It Happened One Night (1934), starring Clarke Gable and Claudette Colbert, that went on to be the first film to win all five top Oscars (Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay). It hauled Columbia into the big league, but the success sent Capra into a panic in terms of what to do next. He said: “I feigned sickness (and actually became sick for a while) and just wanted to quit for a while – I was afraid to make a film.”
Films such as Mr Deeds Goes to Town and Mr Smith Goes to Washington saw him – as critic Alistair Cooke pointed out – “make movies about themes instead of people”. But going over budget with Utopian melodrama Lost Horizon (and its subsequent lack of boffo box office) saw his relationship with Columbia head Harry Cohn fracture, though by the mid-1930s he was still one of the world’s most famous film directors, and used his fame to create the Capra brand. His films though, as one interviewee points, out have an “over-arching whiteness” and while his politics appeared on screen as liberal, at the same time he thought that people should be pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, as he had done.
At the start of America’s involvement in World War II he was shoe-horned in by the Government (and made a major at the age of 45 on $250 a month) to make the Why We Fight series of films. When the War finally ended he had problems adjusting (he had spent a lot of time sifting through atrocity footage) and arrived back to a Hollywood that had changed. His post-War film It’s a Wonderful Life, while celebrating human kindness is also brimming with dark elements. As the film took decades to become an audience favourite, Capra found his career dwindling and he turned to farming avocados and collecting rare books. He entered a wilderness period in the 1950s and ‘60s that left him embittered and adrift, before a Capraesque resurgence with the publication of his book later in his life.
The film largely focusses on Capra’s films as a way of examining the man himself. There is little attention to the stars of his films (such as Gary Cooper and James Stewart and nothing about his family life). The main theme is reflecting on how he mythologised his own story as the American dream come true. But that myth is a complex one and reflects his own issues and troubles. But despite everything, Capra’s films continue to resonate and, as is pointed out by interviewees, in today’s troubled world of division and uncertainty his films offer a unifying and compassionate voice where decency triumphs and ordinary people get to have their day.
UK, 2023, 92mins
Dir: Matthew Wells
Production: Ten Thousand 86, Romulus Films
Producer: Nick Varley
Cinematography: Oscar Oldershaw
Editor: Isobel Goodrich
Music: Roly Witherow
With: Alexander Payne, Eric Smoodin, Farran Smith Nehme, Jeanine Basinger, Joseph McBride, Sam Wasson, Tom Rothman
