Clearly I, Mr. Potter, the Wealthy Banker Trying To Buy This Entire Town, Am the Protagonist Here
A thinly-disguised metaphor about the WGA strike
I’ve been trying to write about the writer’s strike for a while now but I hadn’t found the right angle. I’m not a member of the WGA, but I hope to be someday and I’m proud of the writers for taking this stand, which I know hasn’t been easy, but which I hope will ensure that writing remains a viable career, or even a job at all.
I figured that, as someone who has written an entire book about movies, it would make sense to satirize the movie industry using a movie, but I wasn’t sure which one. It would have to be a movie most people were familiar with, ideally one with themes that paralleled what’s been going on between the AMPTP and the unions, both the WGA and now SAG-AFTRA (kudos for joining the fight)!
As a quick side note: that book I wrote about movies is SO close to being done. In fact, here’s some exclusive, behind-the-scenes footage of me attempting to get it across the finish line:
There have been a series of unforeseen hiccups as I try to get this thing published (I will write a lengthy post about that process, which has been a WHOLE THING), but crowdfunding supporters can expect to get their books…SOON? In 2-4 weeks, maybe? All I can say is you’ll definitely get the book before it’s available to the general public. Speaking of the general public, the e-book is now available for pre-order here, and the paperback will be available for pre-order…SOON? Are you sensing a theme here?
Anyway, yesterday, after reading the Deadline article about the writer’s strike, it finally dawned on me what movie to use. And if you’ve watched television during the holidays any time in the past fifty or so years, you probably already know which movie I’m talking about.
Clearly I, Mr. Potter, the Wealthy Banker Trying To Buy This Entire Town, Am the Protagonist Here
Look. I’m just a humble, hard-working multi-millionaire trying to buy up all of the property in this charming town for reasons I assure you are good. That’s why I’m stunned that the entire town seems to be rallying around George Bailey in order to prevent me from taking over the Building and Loan — the lynchpin in my plan to seize full control over this quaint upstate New York hamlet. It’s so weird considering I’m clearly the protagonist here, right?
I’ll admit that, when $8,000 of the Building and Loan's money conveniently ended up on my desk, I chose not to return it. Instead, I was prepared to let George Bailey lose his house, his business, and possibly wind up in jail. Some called my plan “cartoonishly evil.” But was I really expected to hand over eight grand just because it “wasn’t mine?” As a banker, I have a fiduciary responsibility to my investors to maximize their profits, whether through “strategic asset management,” “diversified investment portfolios,” or “finders keepers.”
Sure, George Bailey tried to negotiate in good faith, even offering his life insurance policy as collateral. And yes, I did tell a man experiencing suicidal ideation that he’d be “worth more dead than alive,” which, in retrospect, was a little insensitive. But, in my defense, he did call me a scurvy little spider after I tried to give him a perfectly generous buyout offer, so I’d say we’re even.
Now the entire town is gathered at the Bailey’s house working collectively to save their home from foreclosure along with the Building and Loan. They’re pulling out all the stops: The “Emergency Fund.” The delicious thematic assortments of baked goods. The clever signs saying “George Bailey helps his chums, Mr. Potter just builds slums!” and “Bedford Falls, yes we will, say hell no to Pottersville!” and “Every time a bell clinks, Mr. Potter’s ding-dong shrinks!” These displays of folksy solidarity are a slap in the face to an entrepreneur who just wants to own every building in town so he can convert them into seedy entertainment venues that appeal almost exclusively to 18-24-year-old males — the key demographic for advertisers of seedy entertainment.
As for my plan to fire every bank teller and replace them with these new “automatic teller machines” we’ve been developing, I assure you we’ll all be better off. Even if the “ATMs” are out of order half the time, or swallow your bank card, or, when you ask to withdraw $100, spit out a single hundred-dollar bill that’s a huge pain in the ass to break.
Plus, I’ll bring plenty of other good jobs to Bedford Falls. Jobs like “repo man,” “pawn shop owner,” and “kneecap replacement surgeon.” Surely that makes me more likable than a cornball who tells their sweetheart they’ll throw a lasso around the moon and pull it down. What a clown.
I have studied all of literature’s great protagonists and I can say without a doubt that I’m up there with the best of them — famous do-gooders such as Lady Macbeth (supported her husband’s career goals), Smaug (diligently saved money), and Count Dracula (combated overpopulation).
Like any hero, I know I face an uphill battle against a sinister and powerful adversary. In my case, a man who schemed his way into the good graces of his fellow townsfolk by “saving people’s lives'' and “preventing them from going bankrupt.”
I’m not too worried, though. It would take divine intervention for George Bailey to pull together the money to save the Building and Loan. He’d practically have to be the richest man in town. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
As for me, I’m going to keep doing what heroes do best: saving innocent stockholders from the horrors of earning slightly less than they might have otherwise.
They say no man is a failure who has friends. But it’s also true that no man is a failure who has tons and tons of cold hard cash. I know which of those two I prefer, and it’s the one where you get to name an entire town after yourself. Because what can I say? It’s a wonderful life.