On these shores, tragedy in its original, legitimate Greek sense -- that is, the inevitable fall of a noble character because of a fatal flaw, usually hubris -- has an artificial air about it. While in Europe, where the classic concept of tragedy originated, it seems to come naturally.
If there is a moral to Frank Capra's movie, it may be the comment from Clarence, George's bumbling guardian angel: "Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives, and when he isn't around he leaves an awful hole to fill, doesn't he? ... You see, George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?" There's a lot more Eugene Field in that comment than Sophocles.
The values of Bedford Falls are those our professional intellectuals are almost obliged to see through. Sometimes they are so busy seeing through those values that they don't see them at all. Or they confuse the happy with the sad, the lonely with the interconnected, and, strangest of all, the triumphant with the tragic. Just as George Bailey did -- till his eyes are opened and the Happy Ending ensues.
Equally undiscerning are those who would idealize small towns; they don't see the potential Pottersville inside every Bedford Falls. Just one man, like George Bailey, can make the difference. Think of all those who make a difference in your town -- and all those who don't.
The most unsettling aspect of the popularity of "It's a Wonderful Life" is the realization that nostalgia for certain values tends to set in just as they are disappearing. Happily, nostalgia can bring them back, too. We're free. We can choose how to live.
If the professor's view of George Bailey as a tragic figure struck me as sadder than anything in the movie, at least it wasn't tragic. It was more comic, this being America.