After last week’s piece on It’s a Wonderful Life, two readers wrote with additional info on that Christmas classic.

My friend Jeff Meadows pointed out that actor Carl Switzer — best known as Alfalfa from the Little Rascals — appears not only in Wonderful Life (annoying dance-partner and swimming-pool opener), but also, quite briefly, in a wartime photo of Judy and Betty’s brother in White Christmas (1954).

Meanwhile, Williamsport Crosscutters Vice President Gabe Sinicropi wrote at greater length on the annual “It’s a Wonderful Life” festival in his hometown — Seneca Falls, NY.

The village sits at the tip of the longest Finger Lake (Cayuga) and, as Wikipedia puts it, “many also believe it to have been the inspiration for the fictional town of Bedford Falls” — the one in It’s a Wonderful Life.

Gabe points out that Seneca Falls has a museum dedicated to the film, and “celebrates it with a huge festival annually. Incredible events each year include a 5K race with over 3,000 participants, special guests such as the real Zuzu [actress Karolyn Grimes], Donna’s Reed’s daughter and much more.”

Wikipedia’s main entry on the film stresses that there’s no hard evidence to support this connection; but the film clearly takes place in Upstate New York: Note the bank examiner’s plans for a later-that-evening visit to Elmira; and the main thoroughfare is Genesee Street — a common regional name (river, town … even a brewery!). And as Gabe also notes, the town’s truss bridge bears an astounding resemblance to the one George jumps from in the film.

So this must remain one of the movie’s many mysteries.

Others include Uncle Billy’s noisy fall right after Harry’s wedding. There’s a loud crash as the sozzled souse staggers offscreen — followed by Billy shouting, “I’m all right! I’m all right!”

Legend has it this was an accident, saved by actor Thomas Mitchell’s quick improvisation — and that director Frank Capra therefore left it in. But it is in the script — exactly that way; and Wonderful Life expert Michael Willian points out that ambient noise like this nearly always needs to be dubbed in later.

And — with considerable help from Willian’s terrific book on the film — here are some unsolved mysteries in the storyline itself:

How did Zuzu Bailey come down with a cold so soon after walking home from school with her coat unbuttoned? And how did her teacher learn about this, so as to make a phone call checking on her health?

Similarly, how on earth did Potter find out that George loaned money to Violet Bick? He claims that “it’s all over town”; yet the interchange occurred behind closed doors — in George’s office!

And as Willian observes, Potter may be a powerful man — but he still wouldn’t have the authority to (as he himself puts it) “swear out a warrant” for George’s arrest.

Furthermore, why is there no wrap-up with Potter at the end? As Michael Newton notes in his sensational book-length study for the British Film Institute, an early script showed Potter having a change of heart; but, arriving at George’s house to return the $8000, “he realizes he has no place among George’s friends, so he sits disconsolate on the porch.”

I dunno — is that a better ending for him? In any case, he’s the one who should be arrested; it’s illegal to keep lost goods when you know the actual owner — and by the strict motion picture code of that time, Henry F. Potter should get his comeuppance for this crime.

Now moving on to Mary:

When she hides in the bush after losing her bathrobe, George jokingly hesitates to return her clothing. But then he says, “I’ll make a deal with you, Mary” — before being interrupted by news of his father’s stroke.

Hmmm. Just exactly what was he planning to propose?

Similarly, much later in the film, after George’s angry outburst at his family on Christmas Eve, Mary scolds, “Why must you torture the children? Why don’t you…?” But George then leaves, and we’re left to wonder just what Mary was going to suggest.

And speaking of things left unsaid: Why didn’t George just tell her about the lost money? Judging from her subsequent actions — resulting in a colossal cash infusion from the town — it almost seems like she intuited the crisis on her own.

And shortly thereafter, in the Pottersville sequence: What is Mary doing at the library at 11 p.m. on Christmas Eve? Furthermore, rather than becoming an old maid — wouldn’t she simply have married George’s long-time rival, Sam Wainwright? This could’ve provided her with the equally grim fate of a shallow, cash-based marriage….

We might also ask why, even with these unanswered issues, the film still succeeds so brilliantly.

So let’s tackle that next week — on Christmas Eve!