Angels Unaware

TCM was doing David Niven movies today; I finally got a decent copy of The Prisoner of Zenda this morning. This evening they showed The Bishop's Wife, and, despite the fact that it's the depths of August, I settled down to watch it as if Christmas were approaching.

I love this movie. I've heard complaints that it's in black and white (eyes roll) or that it's too slow, but I find the leisurely pace magical, as Dudley the angel slowly makes the household happy and reminds Bishop Brougham what's important in life. There are wonderfully funny scenes with Monty Woolley as the Professor (especially the magically refilling wine glasses) and the Bishop's chair problems and the gossips at Michel's, and simply magical ones like Dudley telling Debbie the story of David, helping Debbie play in the snow, and finally the lovely ice skating scene. It brings back old-fashioned scenes of children romping in the snow, Christmas trees being decorated on Christmas Eve to surprise the children next morning, department store windows full of toys, live trees purchased from the florist, and beautifully paned windows—I even enjoy looking at the different windows in this exquisitely dressed film: the diamond colored glass of the Professor's apartment, the bottle-bottom round panes in Michel's, and the beautiful casement windows of the bishopric. The whole film is so colorful that I forget it's in black and white; I can imagine it all myself in living color.

This film was commonly shown at Christmas when I was quite small, then it disappeared. Of all the memories I took away from the film back then, it wasn't the actors or even the story, but of Dudley decorating the tree with a swish of his hand, and most of all the Christmas sermon about the empty stocking. It is a timeless one.

"Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking. Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child’s cry. A blazing star hung over a stable and wise men came with birthday gifts. We haven’t forgotten that night down the centuries; we celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, the sound of bells and with gifts—but especially with gifts. You give me a book; I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange squeezer and Uncle Henry could do with a new pipe. We forget nobody, adult or child. All the stockings are filled...all that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up. The stocking for the Child born in a manger. It’s His birthday we are celebrating. Don’t ever let us forget that. Let us ask ourselves what He would wish for most and then let each put in his share: loving kindness, warm hearts and the stretched-out hand of tolerance. All the shining gifts that make peace on earth."