Frank Capra is one of a handful of directors, like Alfred Hitchcock, John Ford, and Steven Spielberg, whose name practically signifies its own genre, and like those directors, his body of work is far more complex and varied than the broad strokes by which he’s often defined. Capra tends to be thought of in one of two ways: as either the light, breezy director of handsomely crafted comedies like “Platinum Blonde,” “It Happened One Night,” and “You Can’t Take it With You,” or as the inspirational chronicler of American values and politics who made “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” and “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Both characterizations are true (though even within these genres Capra is bolder and more audacious than he’s often given credit for — as critic Dave Kehr has pointed out, “It Happened One Night” is shot more like a Hitchcockian suspense thriller than a typical rom-com), but they only scratch the surface of Capra’s breadth. His full range is on glorious display in what is unquestionably the physical media event of the season, Sony‘s release of the “Frank Capra at Columbia” collection.
“Frank Capra at Columbia” is a 20-film Blu-ray set that also includes nine of the movies on 4K Ultra HD; the 4K upgrades include not only the usual suspects like “It Happened One Night” and “Mr. Smith” but early rarities like “Submarine” (Columbia’s first film to be released with a synchronized score) and “The Younger Generation” (the studio’s first film to contain synchronized dialogue). The collection begins with Capra’s early silents for Columbia and ends with 1939’s “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” with the films in between tracing both Capra’s evolution and that of Columbia Pictures itself.
One could make the argument that no director and studio’s fates were ever more intertwined than those of Capra and Columbia, which broke out of its status as a lower-tier poverty-row production company with the massive box office and awards success of “It Happened One Night.” Columbia gave Capra the resources (even if they were at times limited) and freedom to develop as an artist; he in turn gave the studio movies that transcended the company’s standard output and greatly improved its standing in terms of both prestige and finances — even if he would ultimately nearly decimate those finances with his expensive passion project “Lost Horizon.”
Like most studio directors of his era, Capra was capable of excellent work in a variety of genres, and the Columbia boxed set provides a crucial opportunity to study his filmography in all its variety; there are not just comedies and political films here, but electrifying action movies like “Flight,” “Submarine,” and “Dirigible” alongside melodramas “So This is Love” and “Forbidden.” There’s the almost unclassifiable fantasy film “Lost Horizon,” and the shockingly grim romance “The Bitter Tea of General Yen.”
Best of all, there are the five collaborations between Capra and Barbara Stanwyck, who he cast as a lead in “Ladies of Leisure” at a time when no one else in Hollywood believed in her. Capra’s belief in Stanwyck paid off big time not only for the actress but for Capra himself, as he found a muse with whom he was able to develop his elegant, expressive style; “Ladies of Leisure,” made in 1930, is the first film in which Capra’s ability to delicately combine light comedy with rage, bitterness, and anguish really emerges with clarity and power.
That unique tone would ultimately characterize Capra’s best work in movies like “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” both a rousing ode to democracy and an unsparing critique of America as the land of the herd mentality. As an immigrant who was a victim of bigotry and snobbery throughout much of his youth, Capra developed a well-earned sense of resentment and skepticism about his countrymen (and would, ironically, and disappointingly, become a noted bigot himself later in life), yet as an undeniable American success story he believed in the system.
As is so often the case in Hollywood movies, the tensions and contradictions at the heart of Capra’s work proved to be its greatest strength, yielding movies that continue to speak to something fundamental and unresolvable about the American character. The fact that he was such a gifted visual stylist (with a significant assist from director of photography Joseph Walker) makes the movies even more timeless, and makes “Frank Capra at Columbia” essential viewing for aspiring filmmakers — and experienced ones, too
Part of why Capra was able to thrive at Columbia is that he was terrific at the things that don’t necessarily have to cost a lot of money: finding depth in the frame, conveying relationships through subtle gestures and metaphors, and creating a sense of rhythm that moves quickly but knows when to slow down for essential moments. “Forbidden,” which charts the devastating effects of a years-long illicit affair, is a case study in how to express aching desperation and resignation through purely visual means — but almost all of the films in “Frank Capra at Columbia” exhibit this kind of filmmaking skill, at least intermittently.
To watch the set’s 20 films in a row is to take an indispensable crash course in the pleasures of a director whose work is still, oddly, a bit underrated given its richness. And while the films themselves justify the existence of the collection, what really makes it essential viewing is the abundance of extra features; the box is loaded with commentaries, making-of documentaries, and interviews that add considerable scholarly value. If you’re looking for a last-minute holiday gift for the cinephile in your life — or want to treat yourself to a hundred hours or so of fantastic screen time — “Frank Capra at Columbia” really can’t be beat.
