I've always supposed the bumbling, inept Uncle Billy character in "It's a Wonderful Life" was intended to be endearing and lovable.
Personally, I'd like to punch the bastard in the mouth. You know, draw some blood, break some teeth. And for good reason.
I won't chronicle every instance of Uncle Billy's manifested inanity because the film is so well-known but, among other things, he forgets to attend the wedding of his own nephew (and boss), George, and later he absent-mindedly leaves $8,000 laying around so that old man Potter, the richest and meanest -- and presumably most dishonest -- man in the county can steal it.
Uncle Billy, of course, was supposed to deposit the $8,000 in the bank for his employer, the Bailey Brothers Building and Loan. The loss of that money will cause criminal charges to be brought because a heartless bank examiner has conveniently shown up at the Building and Loan on the very day the money is lost (which also just happens to be Christmas Eve). The loss of this money causes George Bailey, the president of the Building and Loan, to contemplate suicide. George doesn't go through with it, of course, because an angel named Clarence, also intended to be endearing and lovable, appears and shows George what the world would be like if he had never been born, and it isn't pretty. The angel's revelation causes George to understand that, yes, it is a wonderful life, so he returns home to face life, including the heartless bank examiner.
It's at this point that Uncle Billy does something so contemptible, so shameful that he deserves to be punched in the mouth. It starts when he excitedly runs into the Bailey house and, acting as if he were completely innocent of losing the money and causing the problem in the first place, ushers in half the townsfolk, who proceed to happily shower George with money, money and more money. Even the heartless bank examiner is overwhelmed by the spirit of giving, and he and the others burst into song.
But wait, you ain't seen nothing yet. Listen to what Uncle Billy says, in what may be the happiest, most ecstatic voice in the history of American film: "Mary [George's wife] did it, George! Mary did it! She told a few people you were in trouble and they scattered all over town collecting money. They didn't ask any questions –– just said, 'If George is in trouble –– count on me.' You never saw anything like it." (Emphasis supplied.)
Did you get that? George is the one "in trouble." Now, exactly why would George be going to jail instead of Uncle Billy? Why didn't Uncle Billy insist on taking the blame, since he was the one who lost the money? And did you hear this -- everyone wanted to help without asking any questions, suggesting that Uncle Billy did not bother to disclose to the townsfolk the little inconvenient truth as to why George was in trouble. You know -- don't ask, don't tell.
Good old Uncle Billy was content to act as if he had nothing to do with whatever it was that got George "in trouble." The son-of-a-bitch let George take the blame for something he fouled up. And that is why I'd punch him in the mouth if I could. In the true spirit of the season, of course.
Personally, I'd like to punch the bastard in the mouth. You know, draw some blood, break some teeth. And for good reason.
I won't chronicle every instance of Uncle Billy's manifested inanity because the film is so well-known but, among other things, he forgets to attend the wedding of his own nephew (and boss), George, and later he absent-mindedly leaves $8,000 laying around so that old man Potter, the richest and meanest -- and presumably most dishonest -- man in the county can steal it.
Uncle Billy, of course, was supposed to deposit the $8,000 in the bank for his employer, the Bailey Brothers Building and Loan. The loss of that money will cause criminal charges to be brought because a heartless bank examiner has conveniently shown up at the Building and Loan on the very day the money is lost (which also just happens to be Christmas Eve). The loss of this money causes George Bailey, the president of the Building and Loan, to contemplate suicide. George doesn't go through with it, of course, because an angel named Clarence, also intended to be endearing and lovable, appears and shows George what the world would be like if he had never been born, and it isn't pretty. The angel's revelation causes George to understand that, yes, it is a wonderful life, so he returns home to face life, including the heartless bank examiner.
It's at this point that Uncle Billy does something so contemptible, so shameful that he deserves to be punched in the mouth. It starts when he excitedly runs into the Bailey house and, acting as if he were completely innocent of losing the money and causing the problem in the first place, ushers in half the townsfolk, who proceed to happily shower George with money, money and more money. Even the heartless bank examiner is overwhelmed by the spirit of giving, and he and the others burst into song.
But wait, you ain't seen nothing yet. Listen to what Uncle Billy says, in what may be the happiest, most ecstatic voice in the history of American film: "Mary [George's wife] did it, George! Mary did it! She told a few people you were in trouble and they scattered all over town collecting money. They didn't ask any questions –– just said, 'If George is in trouble –– count on me.' You never saw anything like it." (Emphasis supplied.)
Did you get that? George is the one "in trouble." Now, exactly why would George be going to jail instead of Uncle Billy? Why didn't Uncle Billy insist on taking the blame, since he was the one who lost the money? And did you hear this -- everyone wanted to help without asking any questions, suggesting that Uncle Billy did not bother to disclose to the townsfolk the little inconvenient truth as to why George was in trouble. You know -- don't ask, don't tell.
Good old Uncle Billy was content to act as if he had nothing to do with whatever it was that got George "in trouble." The son-of-a-bitch let George take the blame for something he fouled up. And that is why I'd punch him in the mouth if I could. In the true spirit of the season, of course.
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