You can read earlier parts here.
SO HOW did Capra finally resolve the movie? According to his wonderful autobiography, the saviour of the ending was the same person who wrote the original letter to the New Bulletin. No, not Ann in her capacity as a columnist trying to save her job. Rather, it was the anonymous correspondent she cleverly conjured. Here is how Capra tells the story:
‘And then – after the film had been playing a couple of weeks in six major cities – I received a letter signed “John Doe”. It read: “I have seen your film with many different endings . . . all bad, I thought . . . The only thing that can keep John Doe from jumping to his death is the John Does themselves . . . if they ask him . . .” (The Name Above the Title, p. 305.)
At the suggestion of this mysterious stranger – his guardian angel? – Capra called back his cast one last time.
In the fifth and final ending, Norton and Ann are not the only ones who have rushed to City Hall to prevent John from jumping. So too have come members of that very first John Doe Club which inspired John Willoughby to take up the role of John Doe. In a packed car, they drive through falling snow to City Hall. One of them, a man named Smithers, but nicknamed Sourpuss, has never given up on John Doe. ‘That man is going to be on that roof. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know.’ Bert the soda-jerker is incredulous. Burned once before, he is loath to believe in any more fairy tales. His wife admonishes him. ‘I don’t think he was any fake. Not with that face. And anyway what he stood for wasn’t a fake.’
While the timely arrival of the John Doe Club members may stretch the bounds of credibility, their sudden appearance does make more plausible Long John’s final conversion. They arrive just as Ann tearfully begs him not to jump. As she makes her impassioned speech about the meaning of the Christmas bells, the camera pans across their faces. We can see from their reaction that they no longer doubt John’s motives. Bert, the leader of the group, who earlier turned on John in disgust, confesses his error. ‘Mr Doe, you don’t have to . . . we’re with you. We just lost our heads and acted like a mob . . .’ His wife finishes his thought. ‘We need you. We were going to start up our John Doe Club whether we saw you or not. And there were a lot of others who were going to do the same thing . . . Only it’d be a lot easier with you. Please.’ She pauses and says in a more gentle voice: ‘Please come with us, Mr Doe.’
Frank Capra was famous for the rapid pace of his movies, which eschew any line of dialogue or action that does not advance the plot or provide insight into his characters. All the more powerful, then, is the ensuing silence as John hesitates to respond. The Christmas bells ringing in the background are now unmistakable. One can even hear the wind whistling through the top of the building. Add to this Gary Cooper’s talent for expressing emotion without saying a word. His face shows the same emotions as when Long John first gave his speech on the radio: a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and uncertainty. His eyes dart questioningly from his friends to Norton and his crew. Whatever John Willoughby is feeling, the thought of jumping to his death must suddenly appear to him as absurd. In a confrontation between the wickedness of the powerful and the goodness of the meek, there can only be one answer: life.
Without a word, John walks away from the railing, past Norton and his companions, with Ann cradled in his arms. ‘Long John!’ exclaims the Colonel with great relief. In a final closeup, we see a consternated Norton trying to make sense of things. To eliminate any doubt that fraternal love has triumphed over cynical self-interest, Capra fades in the culminating strains of Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’. And as he learned as a gag writer coming up with ‘toppers’ for scenes in silent comedies, he ensures that the movie ends with emphasis. Connell, the hardboiled editor with a heart of gold, enters the frame and sneers at his former boss, ‘There you are, Norton. The people. Try and lick that.’
To be continued
