A year ago, I volunteered to adapt the classic holiday film It’s a Wonderful Life for a staged radio play to be put on by Theatre Unleashed.

Not one to procrastinate (that’s not really true), I found myself having trouble getting started on the adaptation. Every time I would set aside a couple hours to work on it, I felt incredibly nervous and I have to say…a little unworthy. That was an unusual feeling for me. I am a very confident writer, having made a living at it now for over 13 years. I have written award-winning articles, short original scripts and even books for some well-known personalities both locally and nationally.

But this script worried me, and I quickly discovered why.

How dare I or anybody even think about touching this work! How could any writer do anything but ruin this beautiful tale of love, devotion, friendship, perspective, purpose and what it truly means to be human? To prep this for a staged radio play would mean cuts to a perfect script and additions to a perfect story. It would mean different actors taking on iconic roles that were defined by brilliant performances. It would mean adjusting the concept to fit our needs and there’s a danger in that when you’re playing with a masterpiece.

My fear went even deeper. It’s a Wonderful Life is my all-time favorite movie, with Jimmy Stewart’s portrayal of George Bailey resting comfortably in what I consider the deepest and most honest performance in the history of cinema. I was shown the beauty of this film and its message by both of my parents, and like them, I can never keep a dry eye when I watch George read the inscription from Clarence in Tom Sawyer. By the time Zuzu tells him what she’s learned about ringing bells and George is looking to the heavens, I’m a full blown pile of emotions.

More importantly though, each time I watch I’m once again made aware of what is truly important.

And that’s how I got started. I thought, a message like the one we get with It’s a Wonderful Life should be shared as often as possible. I should consider it a privilege to work with something I’m so emotionally invested in, something I feel is so important for any audience to be reminded of, especially around the holidays.

My fear of translating the piece for the stage suddenly turned to excitement. We needed a framework for the piece so I thought of a Capra-esque tale that would help us set the scene. I threw it back to a simpler time in our culture, one of the aspects I always find so comforting in the film. I created characters with big personalities that could tackle all the memorable roles. I set it at a struggling radio station as I found an opportunity there to match the story, or at least the heart of it. And yes, with a lot of deep nerves, apologies to Capra and serious praying, I even made some cuts and additions to the script.

Most important though, I made sure to keep the message well intact. It wasn’t a challenge. The message in a piece such as this is so moving, so powerful, even a hack writer couldn’t mess it up! As we started rehearsals, I saw the words come to life (with a little help and adjustments from fellow writers). All my remaining fears eventually faded away completely.

It was okay for me to write this piece. In fact, it was right. It was simply another chance to share its meaning. The actors working on it, all members of a theatre company I helped found, were absolutely the right people to do it. The director, another co-founder, had the vision it needed and once again put all of her blood, sweat, tears (and money!) into it. I love this theatre company. They are my family. Theatre Unleashed is my Bedford Falls and this stage (and a cramped room at the Latvian Center) became our Building and Loan, 320 Sycamore and even Mr. Potter’s office!

Through the process, I’ve seen something really amazing. To a person, everybody got it. Everybody felt it. There is a reverence to what we’re doing, a care in how we’re handling the material even as we have a little more fun with it. While I started out terrified, I now love seeing my words (and Capra’s words) brought to life by a group of people who I can confidently say honors the material and wants to share it with anyone willing to watch just as much as I do. Because of all them, I feel worthy and proud.

And I never finish any night with a dry eye.

"Dear George, remember no man is a failure who has friends."

Amen, Clarence.

Happy opening to this wonderful cast. Happy Holidays to all.