Review: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

A local building project designed to benefit the state’s political machine and make their cronies rich is slipped into a sprawling federal relief bill. Is Mr. Smith Goes to Washington about Washington, D.C. in 1939, or 2023? That instance of graft, which the film’s hero opposes and makes his crusade, might as well be an indictment of the current operations of the US Congress (or Canada’s Parliament, for that matter), with behemoth omnibus bills, hidden pork barrel spending, and politicians who seem primarily focused on benefiting donors and staying elected.

Although the Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is supremely relevant in 2023, the topicality is accidental. So, are there other reasons to revisit, or seek out for the first time, Frank Capra and Jimmy Stewart’s famous political film?

I was going to write political comedy just now, but then I scratched that out for political drama. But wait, there are also elements of satire. The elasticity of the film’s genre is not unique to Mr. Smith, but rather points to one of the pleasures of many American movies from the 1930s and 40s. Take Capra’s later masterpiece, It’s a Wonderful Life (1946): it invites laughter, sympathy, and tears in equal measure. The same could be said for Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, although the drama is less heartfelt and raw.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington oscillates between misty-eyed idealism and funny, incisive satire, with the righteousness of the former fuelling the indignation of the latter. Capra deserves a lot of credit for balancing the various tonal shifts of the narrative. We get idealism and cynicism, dreaminess and realism, heroics and corruption, and a vision of both what one wants one’s country to be and what it is. The back and forth is what makes the story so appealing—even to a Canadian such as myself, who sometimes bristles at American self-righteousness.

You can’t forget that this is an apple pie movie, after all. The plain, declarative title, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, is perfect for a movie that has become essentially a modern American folk tale. Similar to the way that Johnny Appleseed or Yankee Doodle call to mind all sorts of Americana associations, in cinema, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington has come to suggest any sort of tale about an idealistic aspirant (often called a “boy scout,” whether actually or not) freshly entering into politics or another entrenched institution. For a real-life example, recall the way the phrase, “the junior senator from Illinois,” characterized the first presidential campaign of Barack Obama. In the film, variations on the tune of “Yankee Doodle” play over the opening title and credits. Capra wants us to see the story as, in part, a folk tale.

At the same time that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is widely referenced, it is probably known mostly through clips, memes, and references. These lead to misperceptions that obscure the tonal varieties of the actual film as well as its perceptive account of competing worldviews. When we dig into the text, we see that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is neither naive nor simplistic in its views of power and principles.

When an incumbent junior US senator dies suddenly, the governor of an unnamed western state must select a replacement. The governor, Hubert “Happy” Hopper (Guy Kibbee), is an emasculated leader, with the political boss Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold) running the state’s political machine. They select young Jefferson Smith (James Stewart), leader of the Boy Rangers, in the hopes that the naif will be easily controlled. The machine’s number one player in Washington is an admired senator, Joseph Harrison Paine (played by the always excellent Claude Rains). Joe Paine is the frontrunner for his party’s nomination for the presidency.

It is worth pointing out here Capra’s choice to keep the party identifications ambiguous. Are they Democrats? Are they Republicans? The ambiguity contributes to the film’s status as a fable, since the lack of partisan specificity allows it to be interpreted in several different ways. So too, the name of our hero, Jefferson Smith, taps into a mine of American historical figures and their associations.

When Smith arrives in Washington, he is captivated by the famous buildings and statues, but he soon discovers that the capital is not what he expected. Of course, as a Hollywood picture from 1939, there’s also a romance plot. Paine, who turns out to be an old friend of Smith’s now-deceased father, from when they were both newspapermen, takes a shine to Smith, and hopes to set him up with his daughter, Susan Paine (Astrid Allwyn), who everyone says is perfect. However, Smith finds himself growing closer to his secretary, Jean Arthur’s tough and worldly working gal, Clarissa Saunders, whom all the men just call Saunders.

Capra’s stalwart supporting actor, Thomas Mitchell (who plays Uncle Billy in It’s a Wonderful Life), shows up as a newspaper friend of Clarissa. I’ve noted a lot of the cast because it is uniformly excellent. As with the best studio productions, Capra, his casting directors, and his actors together are able to form perfect types onscreen. Edward Arnold’s political boss is a formidable opponent. The governor is incredibly bubbling. Jean Arthur’s lead performance has a nice edge, conveying, with her crooked expressions, someone grown so weary so young with the easy ladder to wealth she had hoped to climb. It’s actually a greasy pole, as everyone in the movie says.

But this isn’t to say that none of the characters have depth or dimensions. At the heart of the story’s moral debate is Claude Rein’s Senator Paine, who used to be a crusading journalist but, as he explains to Jimmy Stewart’s Smith, learned that to effect any change in Washington, he had to make what he terms “compromises.” Smith doesn’t agree, but he only manages to accomplish anything through the ceaseless assistance of Saunders and the most extravagant effort, culminating in the most famous filibuster ever put to film, which almost destroys his physical person, and possibly his political career.

Idealism versus cynicism. This is an explicit theme, discussed by the characters in their dialogue. Saunders represents the cynical view, but she learns to believe in humanity again through affection-turned-love for Smith. Paine eventually cracks, in that kind of crazed shouting fit we need to see return to the movies. Paine collapses under the weight of trying to maintain a sense of purpose amidst increasing duplicitous and ruthless measures, and by the knowledge of his own betrayal of his principles, as well as of a good friend.

Yet even Mr. Smith has to change. The casting of Stewart is quite remarkable in retrospect, knowing the actor's trajectory in roles from naif to jaded man, from romantic comedies, such as The Philadelphia Story the next year (1940); to It’s A Wonderful Life after the war, with its moments of darkness; to his cold, calloused protagonists in the thrillers of Alfred Hitchcock, most notably in Rear Window (1954) and Vertigo (1958); to his late 1950s Westerns. Through his fabled efforts in World War Two, achieving the highest rank for an American actor, Brigadier General, Stewart also became an all-American hero. Today, we cannot watch Stewart’s performance in 1939 without bringing all the different associations Stewart gained over the years to bear on our interpretation of his character, Jefferson Smith.

Many later films about a young man facing the harshness of the world or an established system has the young man learn to become ruthless: think of Wall Street or The Godfather and other gangster movies for the most extreme examples. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is not about destroying the young man or totally altering his personality, but Smith does have to change. Adapt is probably the better word. He must learn political survival and strategies for success. Does he?

While Smith does not jettison his beliefs in the American ideals of the Constitution and the neighbourly love of the New Testament, both of which he reads from at length during his filibuster, his belief in Congress’s ability to properly function is tested. He only just manages to achieve his aim—exposing his state’s corrupt machine—by deploying every trick in the book he can muster. In a wild telescoped sequence amidst the filibuster, we see a media war wage back in the home state between Taylor’s newspapers and media propaganda and Boy Rangers handing out their kids’ papers. Boys are hurt. Smith must learn that politics, even for the good, is a game, and a game that must be played smartly. There is a lot at stake. In this respect, I was reminded of Steven Spielberg and Tony Kushner’s portrayal of Abraham Lincoln in Lincoln (2012), based on the historical book, Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln (2005). Capra is similarly not naive about how politics works, but he doesn’t think that means one should either reject the system entirely, or just go along with it.

Is the movie cynical? Is it idealistic? The confrontation between high ideals and principles and the power dynamics of Washington and the corruption of institutions drives the narrative. The narrative puts these viewpoints into competition, and each point of view has to give in some respect by the end.

Speaking of endings, the film features one of the most abrupt movie endings I have ever seen. It might be even more abrupt than North by Northwest, because we don’t get to see an after scene, even if Hitchcock severely truncated his climax.

But in spite of its brevity, it is an ending that holds immense significance. It is an ending of implied resolution. The abruptness implies hesitancy. Will the change be genuine and involve lasting reform? What would that reform look like? Smith might succeed this time, but will he stay in Washington? Our last view of our hero is of his fallen, fainted body being carried out. Will he eventually change like his mentor and dad’s friend, Joe Paine? Will the political machine or cartel ever really be taken down?

Is it a lost cause, as Smith says in his final speech? Notice how, as Smith’s speech progresses, his words target Paine, rather than the whole senate or the people, to rhetorically work upon one man. Does Smith realize he has begun to pierce the man? When Smith looks with frustration at the baskets of forged telegrams, he turns his focus to the gallery, and by implication, the audience. Then Paine runs out, we see him frantically fire a gun in the lounge, and he runs back into the senate confessing his corruption. Within less than a minute it is the end of the movie.

Like a marriage at the end of many comedies, the ending signals lasting resolution without having to show it. The ending remains aspirational, conveying hope for happily ever after, but not directly showing that to be the case.

The ending of Capra’s late career masterpiece, It’s a Wonderful Life!, is similarly truncated, implying that things will be sorted out. Remember, though, that in that film Mr. Potter is not defeated, and there are many threads left unresolved by the film’s close. Instead, Capra ends off with an affirmation that human bonds will help to mend things. In Mr. Smith, the affirmation seems to be that some people will always hold out for the lost causes, that some will repent, and that some will work furiously to prevent injustice and do good. Remember again that Smith’s final speech turns outward to the gallery, and the audience. What will you do?, the film asks.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is without doubt one of Capra’s masterpieces. I prefer it to the earlier comedy, It Happened One Night, which is still fun. Like other Capra movies, Mr. Smith expresses views on human agency and institutions that are not easily shoehorned into current political parties, which makes Capra a great example of a filmmaker whom people from both the Left and Right admire. Capra shows concern about systemic and institutional corruption but also faith in human capacity, decency, common sense, as well as basic human nature. Capra seems to espouse a belief not that everyone will choose the right path amidst the pits and perils of the world, but that some can and will and that makes the difference.

10 out of 10

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939, USA)

Directed by Frank Capra; screenplay by Sidney Buchman and Myles Connolly; starring Jean Arthur, James Stewart, Claude Rains, Edward Arnold, Guy Kibbee, Thomas Mitchell, Astrid Allwyn.

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