We have a classic film…but what does the title refer to?

 

My wife and I have an ongoing debate about Miracle on 34^th Street. I maintain that the ‘miracle’ in the title was the post office workers’ decision, based on Susie’s letter, to ship all the mail addressed to Santa Claus to Kris Kringle at the courthouse—which led to Mr. Gailey’s compelling closing argument that exonerated Kris Kringle. Without those two guys deciding to do that, the whole ending to the movie wouldn’t have happened and this, to me, qualifies as a bona fide miracle.

 

My wife, on the other hand believes the miracle to be a more general one. The miracle, as she sees it, is about the way a department store Santa, who believes himself to be the real Kris Kringle, transforms the lives of those around him for the better.

 

Whoever of us is correct, we’re both in agreement that we wouldn’t want a Christmas without watching the original 1947 masterpiece—in black and white we hasten to add—that is Miracle on 34^th Street.

 

I think a good part of Miracle’s success is that it takes an outrageous premise and then sets it in the real world. The location is a big part of that. Had Miracle been made on the 20^th Century Fox backlot it wouldn’t have been nearly so effective. Director George Seaton actually shot Miracle on the streets of New York City—a rarity in the 1940s. As a result it has a real sense of place, whether that be the streets outside during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, the shop floors, locker rooms and back offices at Macy’s and the bowels of the post office where the miracle—or at least the one I think qualifies—happened.

 

The other side of the coin is the sheer whimsy of the story: a department store Santa believes he’s the genuine article and a lawyer has to save him from commitment by legally proving to a court he is Santa Claus. The whole thing is absurd. My favourite sight gag of all time in a film is when Maureen O’Brien as Doris Walker asks for Kris Kringle’s employment card and discovers the response to Date of Birth is “As old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth” and lists all eight reindeer as next of kin—all neatly typed by some hapless off-screen secretary. The courtroom scenes are hilarious as all parties involved are pressured—the judge by his political manager, the prosecutor by his kid’s faith in him, Mr. Macy by the fear of bad publicity—to find a way to let this harmless man off.

 

Only Kris isn’t harmless. He’s remarkable. He brings the best out of everyone—helping Doris’ daughter Susie become an actual child instead a stunted adult; bringing together Fred Gailey and Doris Walker by having them risk themselves in very different ways. Kris even brings together rival stores Macy’s and Gimbel’s. Edmund Gwenn is brilliant as Kris, playing the role with utter conviction that makes you love him all the more for it.

 

What makes Miracle on 34^th Street work is the fusion of the utterly whimsical with the mundanely New York. It has become a modern-day American fable about being whoever you want to be—even Santa Claus—and that unlikely, astounding, funny things can happen if you believe.

 

Which is, I suppose, a miracle. Perhaps my wife is right after all.