"In this world, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant. Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant." So says Elwood P. Dowd (Jimmy Stewart), a character who combines the gentle temperament of the Dalai Lama with the martini intake of Frank Sinatra. He also seems a bit crazy, seeing as his pal is an invisible 6'3½" rabbit named Harvey, and happily introduces him to everyone he meets. While he seems harmless, his sister (Josephine Hull) wants to commit him to a sanitarium, and in a comedy of errors, gets locked up herself. From there it's a series of screwball moments, with the hospital staff trying to track down Elwood, and him oblivious to it all.

The film is a little bit of indictment of the mental health industry, with one doctor (Lyman Sanderson) jumping to harebrained conclusions and an orderly (Jesse White) aggressively putting his hands on people. He alludes to having had to take the corset off of Hull's character while stripping her, a fact that intrigues her daughter (Victoria Horne), in one creepy and awkward scene. Horne at 39 was far too old for the role (Jimmy Stewart, playing her uncle, was 42), and scenes with her and White are the low points of the film.

If it seems like just another goofball comedy in the first half, stay with it and let Elwood Dowd's benevolence sink in. He engages everyone he meets in real conversation, cares about them, and almost always invites them over to his house for dinner or for drinks. He does that not out of politeness, but actually wants and expects them to show up. The character is quite endearing, and Stewart's performance is nuanced and brilliant. In this screwball comedy, there is a real message of the importance of simple kindness, and it's delivered in a subtle way.

Most adults have long since stopped believing in the Easter Bunny. For better or for worse, they've come to find imaginary rabbits absurd and uncalled for. In "Harvey," however, you will find a very pleasant man who would beg to differ.

Elwood P. Dowd is best friends with a pooka named Harvey. A pooka, by definition, is a `fairy spirit that appears in animal form, always very large.' In Harvey's case, this means a 6-foot-3.5-inch rabbit.

Harvey is also invisible to the general populace, but this does not stop Elwood from talking to him, holding doors for him, and cheerfully introducing him to anyone and everyone they meet.

Most other characters who are witnesses to this behavior -- and the viewer as well -- are skeptical at best of Elwood's sanity. The occasional act of mischief, though, as well as Stewart's unfailing faithfulness, are grounds enough to keep you wondering.

The skillful blurring of the line between delusion and reality are testament to the skill of both Mary Chase and those who made her play into a movie.

Elwood and Harvey tend to frequent the local bars, where meeting Harvey tends to brighten a person's heavy spirits since, as Elwood puts it, `nobody brings small things into a bar.' (One will note that Harvey is no exception to this rule.)

His sister Veta, however, becomes determined to have Elwood committed after he and Harvey ruin the social gathering she so diligently arranged. They take a trip to the Chumley's Rest sanatorium for this purpose, but the particularly analytic psychologist Dr. Sanderson (Charles Drake) decides that it is Veta who's the crazy one and has her admitted instead. Josephine Hull expertly portrays Veta's quirks and anxieties about both her brother's sanity and her own.

In one of the one of the movie's memorable scenes, Mr. Wilson, an orderly at the sanitarium, decides to look up what a `pooka' is. He discovers it is described as a `mischievous creature, very fond of rum-pots, crack-pots, and how are you Mr. Wilson?" That he is irritated rather than mystified only enhances the comedic effect.

When the mix-up is revealed, a manhunt for Elwood commences. He is found at Charlie's (which is just where he'd said he was going) and brought back to the sanitarium, but not before impressing his apprehendors with his incredible good nature and altruistic attitude.

Then, when Dr. Chumley, the owner of the sanitarium, informs Elwood about Veta's plans, him he is amazed when Elwood seems untroubled by this revelation.

"Harvey" has many memorable lines, many of which are notable for their ring of candor and elemental wisdom. Elwood's explanation is one of them, as he tells the doctor, `‘In this world, you must be oh-so-smart or oh-so-pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.'

It is, in a large part, this attitude that makes both Elwood and "Harvey" so endearing. Such an overwhelming agreeable nature cannot help but infect the hearts and minds of those it touches.

Furthermore, the occasional acts of mischief – perhaps the work of Harvey? – are both humorous and intriguing. Most importantly, the movie does an excellent job of questioning the value of conventional sanity.

Inspired by Elwood, who states, `Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it,' the viewer is almost tempted to check the dictionary for `pooka' by the time the movie's over. Or, perhaps, to check for an Easter basket. Just in case.

This is a delightful film. Jimmy Stewart's Elwood is a timeless character. When we live in a world which is constantly looking forward or backwards, Elwood P Dowd is a character who reminds us how perfect our lives would be if could live in the now, enjoying the singular moment. It is Dowd's ideology as much as his "imaginary" friend that makes "Harvey" so captivating.

Of course, Elwood Dowd could be far less perfect than we imagine. The back story seems to imply he undertook some sort of personality shift seven years back (he says he took life seriously for thirty five years, he is now forty two as I recall). From the events he describes on his first encounter with "Harvey", his recalled dialogue infers this event was after his character transformation. Considering how his big sister, Veta seems to feel their mother should have warned her about Harvey when she moved in, it seems unlikely it was his mother's death that caused any sort of dramatic character alteration.

So Dowd's character - for some reason - shifted from normal to unique. His life now is simplistic yet to himself, very busy. He spends a lot of times hanging around in bars meeting people. To him, that's a vocation, and with life itself being such a rich tapestry of character and history, who is one to argue? His approach to each day is structured on much repetition. His dialogue and mannerisms are very uniform and repetitive. His approach to all people remains equal. Elwood does initially give the audience the impression of someone who has had suffered breakdown, as someone who probably isn't quite normal. But as the film reminds us, when "normal" is actually quite nasty and stressful, would those "normal" people see being so very nice as a mental deficiency? The film doesn't dwell on the question as to whether or not Dowd suffers from mental illness. It could be character just was hit by some amazing epiphany seven years earlier. Unlike more contemporary offerings, it's not interested in what makes us who we are; it is more interested in what we are at present.

While it's clear that Elwood was never always as simple and gracious as he is now. The film doesn't concern itself with any catalyst for this change; in fact, it seems to deliberately avoid talking about it. The beauty in "Harvey" is that Elwood is as much a fantasy character as the mischievous "imaginary" Pooka Harvey himself and in my opinion, just as fascinating.

The timeless character of Elwood is solidified by the play/films disinterest in creating a resolution for his identity, even if all the unhappy people attempt the contrary. I prefer to see the change in Elwood as being an epiphany rather than a breakdown. It just seems to suit his almost fairy tale perfection. He doesn't see the bad in others. All behaviour has its reasons and all actions can be dealt with positively. Even when confronted with selfish concerns, he sees the lighter side. While the film doesn't leave any doubt to whether Harvey exists or not, it does leave the audience to make up it's mind on Elwood. That to me is the beauty of this film. The actual fairy tale character is definitive, but Elwood isn't. Is he a drunk? Again, personally, I don't feel he is. He never shows any behaviour indicative to a drunk. He goes and has a drink when he meets people as part of a ritualistic pattern, but the alcohol never pertains importance to him beyond that. Again, if we take Elwood's almost fantasy built persona - something we would all want to aspire to - to be able to socially drink very regularly without dependence seems quite fitting. That's my opinion, but really it's up to you to decide.

So I think, deep down, we would all want to be Elwood Dowd. Not so much for the Pooka invisible friend, but simply because his existence shows us how life ought to be taken. This is of course, an impossibility given the responsibility of today's lifestyle. Life is too complicated for an existence firmly entrenched in the present and while we have to accept that we can't be like Elwood, it would be nice to think we can try.

For me Mary Chase's "Harvey" presents a dream existence made manifest, and that is very much thanks to Stewart's beautifully performed Elwood Dowd.