Movie: Citzen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941)
I've always loved the story of Orson Welles directing a radio adaptation of War of the Worlds so convincingly some listeners genuinely thought an alien invasion was imminent, and I intend to see F For Fake during the upcoming Christmas break. I've always been intrigued by this documentary about an art forger that's supposedly somewhat of a forgery itself, and finally seeing Citizen Kane immediately raised my interest in Welles' other work. Welles was 25 years old and had no experience with film before directing, writing and acting in it, in the process establishing entirely new filmmaking rules and techniques that helped move the art form forward. Welles' genius was only matched by his bluster and bravado, and his willingness to speak his mind on all subjects, especially if he could rattle sacred cows. He presented himself as a larger than life self-consciously stylised figure, obscuring the line between his true self and his artistic persona. Suggesting, for example, he could only make Citizen Kane after seeing Stagecoach over 40 times can be read both as a genuine expression of humility and gratitude and as a self-aggrandising expression of passionate obsession.
I have always loved movies that straddle the boundaries between fiction and reality, and Citizen Kane is in the first place a thinly veiled 'biopic' of media tycoon Willam Randolph Hearst. As the publisher of the Inquirer, Charles Foster Kane treats newspaper journalism as entertainment. He will say and write whatever sells and his main objective in the newsroom is to always be the centre of attention. He has a quip ready for every criticism and is a great orator expressing a political interest in fighting fot the working man, but will sell out his principles whenever convenient. He will buy an opera for his wife to perform, knowing she finds it humiliating to get praise from his newspapers for being a terrible singer. His last words, 'Rosebud', are a mystery to every journalist in the country and attempts to piece the puzzle together mostly reveal that nobody, not even his closest companions, knows who Charles Foster Kane really was. What does become evident is that he was a self-consciously stylised figure of great bluster and bravado who would speak his mind on all subject, creating an entirely new form of journalism in the process.
Welles and cinematographer Gregg Toland pioneered the use of deep focus in cinematography, allowing everything in the frame to be seen sharply. That allows for some great shots showing how the action in the foreground affects what's happening in the background or vice versa, providing more room for actors to interact with each other and the space around them. There is some spectacular use of dissolves making surprising spatial and temporal connections. The highlight is a zoom into a still photo of successful journalists at a rival newspaper turning into a moving image of the same journalists being photographed six years later as they are about to start working at the Inquirer. I also loved how the story of Kane's first marriage is entirely told through a montage of a series of breakfasts through the years. It lasts maybe less than 5 minutes but communicates more than some entire films on the subject.All of these technical achievements have been of great importance for film history and it's worth reading more about them. None of the however are as great as Welles' lead performance.
I suppose that a theater background can help illuminate the value of being able to see everything that's happening on stage, and though it's impressive, it's not hard to imagine how a 25 year old stage actor/director can understand the potential of deep focus cinematography. Welles' ability to actually put his ideas in practice and make such an innovative film can be attributed to some of the same personal characteristics that fueled Kane's rise. Within that context not many 25 year olds would be willing to see, and even less willing to show, that these same charactersitics also fuel Kane's fall. Welles may go big here, but he performs with no vanity, unafraid to highlight the hollowness and cruelty behind Kane's bluster and grandeur. When Kane, leading in a political campaign against an objectively ratty politican, is confronted by his rival for his adultery he is given the choice to either lose by quitely withdrawing, or to lose by being publicly shamed, affecting his entire family. Kane chooses the second option, framing it as an act of personal integrity. Theoretically that's true - you don't win elections, or make Citizen Kane, by choosing the first option, but the film gives the ratty politician the moral high ground, understanding that sometimes choosing a better outcome for others over your personal integrity is the right thing to do. The critical self-awareness Welles showcases here is not something you see very often in movies, and certainly not in such auteur projects. It's also connected to my only real gripe. I will always appreciate movies that counteract the stories nations like to tell about themselves, but an epic about how American society is shaped by men with completely vapid inner lives can't help but risk narrative inertia. Citizen Kane handles this better than The Irishman (one of my least favourite Scorsese films), but still almost every scene ultimately leads to the same conclusion
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