Released in 1946, Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life was derided as an “over-sentimental” Christmas yarn. In History looks at how its profound exploration of mental health, societal expectations and the healing power of community resonates today.

In the eight decades since its release, It’s a Wonderful Life has become a sacrosanct part of the holiday period. James Stewart stars as George Bailey, a savings and loans manager who contemplates taking his own life until an angel shows him a vision of how much worse off his town and his loved ones would be if he had never been born. Due to a clerical oversight, the film’s copyright expired in 1974, and the subsequent television broadcasts cemented its reputation as a Christmas classic. And yet, even in 1974, its director Frank Capra was still having to defend it from the charge of being “over-sentimental”.

“I think it was probably the strongest picture I’ve made,” Capra told a BBC reporter in an episode of Film Extra. “I think it’s my favourite film because it epitomises everything I tried to say in all the other films in one package.”

On its release in 1946, Bosley Crowther of The New York Times critiqued It’s a Wonderful Life for its tone, noting that “the weakness of this picture is the sentimentality of it”. Capra’s earlier film-making was similarly associated with sentimental, idealised versions of US life. Works such as Mr Deeds Goes to Town and Mr Smith Goes to Washington were labelled “Capra-corn” because of their sweet, unassuming nature. However, while It’s a Wonderful Life concludes with pure-hearted George winning out over the greed-ridden Mr Potter (Lionel Barrymore), the film exposes the grim, unspoken struggles of the ordinary man. In an era of masculine stoicism, when mental health went largely undiscussed, Stewart’s portrayal of George’s desperation addressed issues of anxiety, depression and the sense of personal failure.

The regular everyman he played was also a departure from his earlier heroic roles, marking the transformation of his persona both on and off screen. In 1973, he would describe his on-screen persona on Michael Parkinson’s chat show. “I’m the plodder. I’m the inarticulate man that tries. I’m a pretty good example of true human frailty. I don’t really have all the answers. I have very few of the answers, but for some reason, somehow, I make it. I get through.”

George’s specific personal struggles may not have been shared by Stewart, but as a veteran not long back from World War Two, the actor had his own mental health issues. “It’s the first picture I did after I got out of the service,” Stewart told BBC audiences in 1972. It would be almost four decades before post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) would be added to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of mental disorders (DSM). Veterans were often diagnosed with “shell shock” or “combat