An Early Capra Success

Before Frank Capra enjoyed great critical and popular acclaim with such films as It Happened One Night (1934), You Can't Take it With You (1938) and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), he had directed more than twenty feature films of various subject matter, from documentary-like studies to romances to comedies. One of his best early films, one of three he directed in 1931, was The Miracle Woman, starring one of his favorites leading ladies, Barbara Stanwyck.

With a screenplay by Jo Swerling (he would later write some additional dialogue for Capra's 1946 classic It's a Wonderful Life), adapted from the play "Bless You Sister" written by John Meehan, the film is about a female evangelist, loosely based on Aimee Semple McPherson, the famed celebrity preacher of the 1920s and '30s.

As the film opens, the title character, named Florence Fallon (portrayed with typical gusto by Stanwyck), steps up to the pulpit to deliver her minister father's last sermon before an overflow crowd at church. Her father has been ill for some time and is too weak to deliver his message of love and understanding.

However, Fallon has sad news to tell the church goers - her father passed away in her arms just a few minutes earlier. She then turns on them assembled, telling them they did not take the advice of her father - or God - and lead Christian lives. In a scene that most assuredly inspired John Huston and Tennessee Williams for the opening of their film The Night of the Iguana (1964), Fallon calls out the worshipers, threatening to name the adulterers among the group. The flock rush out of the church, stunned at what they are hearing.

A shady businessman named Bob Hornsby (Sam Hardy) approaches Fallon after this, telling her that with her knowledge of the Bible, she can have a career as a preacher, "as there is money in religion." Alone and uncertain of her future, Fallon agrees to work for him; soon she is preaching her sermons on nationwide radio.

We then meet the other main character in this story, a young blind man named John Carson (David Manners), who lost his sight in the war. He has now turned to writing music, but despondent over being rejected time and time again, he decides to commit suicide. Capra nicely depicts this scene, as when he opens his window to jump out, he hears a radio broadcast of Fallon, speaking about how man has a backbone and can make his own decisions, unlike the simplest creatures. Carson is inspired by this message and decides not to end his life.

Carson knows he must meet this woman who saved his life, so he attends one of her revival meetings. Fallon at one point walks into a cage filled with lions and asks the congregation if one of them will show their faith and enter in the cage with her. Carson is the one individual who does so; Fallon, who has never seen this man before, is impressed, especially as he is blind, yet she thinks nothing more than that, as she believes this will be the only encounter between them.

Thus the two main characters are brought together; both need someone in their lives, so they turn to each other. Fallon is especially touched when she learns that Carson chose not to end his life because of her words; knowing this, she starts to doubt herself, as she feels guilty about misleading the public who view her "miracles" on cripples, who in reality are nothing more than a trained band of actors hired by Hornsby.

Carson and Fallon start to see each other more often; during one scene in his apartment, he shows her his dummy named Al. Carson is a fine ventriloquist with a very funny act and Fallon loves his routine, which only endears him more to her. I love this interplay in the film, not only for its lighthearted nature, but also the deeper message of a man who cannot see needing an alter ego to talk for him. This is also a nice counterpart to the theme of a woman who speaks to the masses, yet in reality, talks to no one.

This leads to a lovely scene later in the film at Carson's apartment when he wants to profess his love for Fallon. He tells her that Al has something to say to her. But just after Al starts to speak Carson's heartfelt words, he stops. Fallon gets up from the table and Carson follows her; this is done in total silence, with no music and with a static camera. Capra filmed this as simply as he could, so the emotions when they embrace are devastatingly emotional. It's one of the most tender moments realized in any Capra film.

The film ends with a crowd scene that would be repeated to some degree in Capra's 1941 film Meet John Doe (interestingly enough, that film also deals with an individual who must pass himself off as someone he's not and starts to doubt his purpose in life). The truth and decency of humanity so often communicated in Capra's work are once again the redeeming qualities of the two main characters in this story. As the film ends, Fallon does not enjoy the fame she embraced for a short time, but she has done the proper thing and has found true happiness and redemption.

A Touch of Capra

I finally got around to seeing Ghost Town the other day. It was on the plane ride home from Munich and I’m sure if you’ve flown lately, you know how nice it is to see a good film, given all the garbage that gets shown on the airlines. That aside, I liked this film very much for several reasons, for its performances, which most reviewers have mentioned, but also for its message, which has not been the subject of too many critical analyses of this film.

The focal point of this film is the performance of Ricky Gervais, the great British comic actor who starred in the original version of the TV series The Office. Gervais plays Dr. Bertram Pincus, a New York City dentist who just doesn’t care much for people and even less for their problems. He’s got the perfect job since he can shove all sorts of things in his patients’ mouths, meaning he doesn’t have to listen to their concerns.

One day he undergoes a routine operation in which he is dead for seven minutes before coming back to life. Because of this, he can see ghosts, who upon their discovery that the doctor can actually see and hear them, pester the poor guy with their problems. Just what he needs!

Gervais is brilliant in this film, especially in the hospital scenes when he answers one of those annoying questionnares about everything from when he last ate solid food to how well his laxatives worked. How we’d all love to say the things he does in this scene! He’s also great in his scenes with Gwen (Tea Leoni, in a quirky, captivating performance) with whom he falls in love. Gwen, you see, was married to Frank Herlihy (Greg Kinnear), a businessman who cheated on her. Now Frank (who recently died and is now a ghost) wants the doctor to sway Gwen away from marrying a self-righteous jerk who is involved in organizing medical help for Third World countries (that doesn’t make him a jerk, of course, it’s the way the character is written, as some sort of modern day savior). Kinnear, who is making a nice living playing everyday characters with some annoying tics, won’t give up until Dr. Pincus does the job he asks him to carry out. The more the doctor resists, the more Frank talks to the other ghosts he knows and convinces them to ask the doctor to help them as well.

While the film plays cute at times, the story is effective enough and the performances are so good that we accept some of the limitations of the project. Yet there is one brilliant scene in the film that few have discussed. The message here is that when you die, you don’t just go to heaven (or the other place) right away. No, it turns out that we all have some unfinished business we need to have taken care of. As we’re dead, we can’t do it, so we have to tell our story to someone who has undergone death and has then come back to life.

The scene comes after Dr. Pincus’ associate tells him that one day he should understand that the world doesn’t revolve around him and that he needs to actually listen to other people and help them from time to time. It sounds a bit corny, but it comes across in a subtle way and when Pincus finally understands that message, he becomes a new man, so to speak.

Dr. Pincus goes to the ghosts and listens to their stories. All the ghosts have requests for him; some are simple like the father who needs to tell his son where he lost his stuffed animal, while other are more dramatic, like the construction workers who die because of a mechanical problem on their truck. They know why they died, but their foreman thinks he was careless and caused their deaths. They can’t tell him, so Dr. Pincus must relieve this man of his overwhelming guilt.

The scene that follows is really quite special, told without words with only a quiet, bittersweet theme performed by violin and piano as Pincus goes to the people whose lives were touched by these ghosts before they died. As the doctor clears things up with the living, we see the ghosts’ reactions for a second just before the screen turns to white, signifying their departure to their afterlife. It’s a very moving scene and it’s one that has a touch of Frank Capra to it. Like one of the great scenes from Capra's best works such as Meet John Doe or Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, this scene does share a common message of humanity – all of us need to show our fellow man a little more understanding. It’s this decency that made Capra’s films ring true and it’s this same feeling that makes this scene so wonderful.

It’s this message that makes Ghost Town an above average comedy. The film ends with a cute line about Dr. Pincus being able to help Gwen with a minor problem (or is it a major one?), but it’s a line that fits perfectly and has a sentiment that has been earned. How nice that writer/director David Koepp fashioned a modern-day comedy that isn’t afraid to deal with our deepest emotions about our fellow man.