super eerie that we never actually see potter in pottersville. the thought that his money runs deeper than his physical presence, that his long-term capitalist game could have serious consequences even beyond the grave, presenting potter as an ideology rather than one exceptionally vile man—all part of why this resonates so much every year.
as always, brazenly structured, moody, warped, frustrated; a moral tale with immoral details left unresolved. cluttered frames of the unkempt building-and-loan office, small town gatherings, and flurries of fake snow, with whip-smart dialogue that flows like music and an ending that always comes like a dagger to the heart. a revelation every year. the one tradition I can always commit to.