I find it intriguing that the acting in "It's a Wonderful Life" (1946) is more believable than many of the films made today. Really–I think this every time I see it.
And why do I keep seeing it?
I think it's George Bailey. An imperfect man with perfect morals trying to do the right thing and not even doing it always with a smile. I get that.
It has taken me three hours to write three paragraphs.
But it is a wonderful life, isn't it? Feeling a bit manic the last few days, which is good, considering the number of incidents involving flying dinner ware and/or bodily fluids/excretions I've had to clean up.
Bring it on, boys! I'm ready for anything this week.