Welles Overflowing: Citizen
Kane, RKO 281 - The Battle Over "Citizen Kane", and Cradle Will Rock
"Citizen Kane is perhaps the
one American talking picture that seems as fresh now as the day it opened. It may seem
even fresher."
-- Pauline Kael, Raising Kane
These words are truer now than they were when Kael wrote
them in 1971, thanks to the astonishing new telecine transfer on this 60th Anniversary
Edition DVD. Citizen Kane did not enjoy a lengthy theatrical release, despite its
near universal critical approval. Thanks to parent studio RKO's shaky financial state --
and undoubtedly due to the Hearst newspaper empire's fierce opposition -- the film did not
actually play on all that many screens before being "retired." The copies shown
in art houses and film classes over the years were, reportedly, little better than 16mm
shadows of the original. The original nitrate negatives disintegrated in storage. Even
Criterion's laserdisc, celebrating the film's 50th anniversary, relied upon a flawed
source print.
So the chances are you've never seen this classic as Welles
and cinematographer Gregg Toland intended. Until now, that is. The Warner Home Video DVD
is astonishingly clear and crisp -- with blacks as deep and dark as the mysteries of the
human heart. This is not a minor point, since the film is one of the great visual feasts
of cinema history.
Welles and Toland created a visual language for Citizen
Kane that was unlike anything that had come before it. Part of this involved the
phenomenal use of deep focus throughout the film -- this is the technique of shooting
scenes so that the foreground and the deep background are all in sharp, detailed focus. In
1941, film technology -- lighting, film stock, and lenses -- had evolved to the point
where this was possible, but no one had ever used it as effectively or as consistently as
Welles and Toland did in Kane.
In a conventional shot, the viewer's eye is directed to the
important action by focus, as much as anything else. When deep focus is employed, extra
attention must be paid to the composition of scenes and the way the actors (and the
camera) move within them.
Then there's Kane's use of light. From the first
establishing shot to the last scene, the play of light and darkness is almost a physical
force -- and until you've seen this new transfer, you've really never seen it.
Of course, Citizen Kane hasn't garnered the
reputation of the greatest American film ever made simply because it looks good. It has
lasted because it's also a gripping story. Ostensibly an "exposé" of a
Hearstian, demagogic newspaper tycoon, it actually suggests Hearst only in superficial
ways -- which Hearst himself might have realized if Welles and writer Herman J. Mankiewicz
hadn't goaded him beyond reason by couching the tale as a search for the meaning of
"Rosebud." The enigmatic word was used in the film as the
"explanation" for the great man's life, but was, in reality, Hearst's pet name
for his mistress' "most private part." Hearst, a man of such rectitude that he
did not allow cursing in his presence, must have been outraged by the ploy -- as
Mankiewicz and Welles surely intended.
Kane is much less about Hearst than it is about hubris
-- about how the mighty are brought low by their own ambition. It's not hard to see Welles
himself in Charles Foster Kane and that's part of the greatness of the film: by
concentrating on the specific, it illustrates universal truths.
But what I love most about Citizen Kane is its
exuberance. It is written in bold strokes and that's thrilling in itself. But further,
everyone involved seems to be drunk on creativity. From Toland's stunning camera work --
which pushed the limits of what was technically possible at the time -- to the acting,
which is energetic and daring, everyone involved seems totally engaged.
Pauline Kael thought Citizen Kane owed an immense
debt to the savvy newspaper comedies of the ‘30s and she may have a point. Kane
is structured as a series of blackouts -- sketches which are complete stories within
themselves, which tell a greater story when combined -- and it has the manic energy of the
best screwball comedies. It's also filled with jokes, both pointed and inside -- jokes the
1941 audience probably got and which escape modern viewers completely.
The newsreel footage that announces Kane's death, for
instance, is a parody of the March of Time newsreels. Further, the fact that you
never see the faces of the journalists -- not even that of William Alland, who plays
Thompson, the reporter sent off to discover the meaning of "Rosebud" -- is a
swipe at the "faceless" journalism of Henry R. Luce's Time and Life.
Despite its energy and its jokes, Citizen Kane isn't
comedy. Its greatness lies in Welles' ability to travel beyond words into dreams. There
are scenes in Kane that express isolation and loneliness better than any other work
of the last six decades. Some are prosaic and believable -- Kane and his wife dining at
opposite ends of a banquet table, reading competing papers -- while some are straight out
of the subconscious -- Kane wandering the halls of Xanadu by himself, endlessly reflected
in a pair of parallel mirrors. These linger in the memory long after the rest of the film
fades.
The only gripe I have about this reissue lies in the
decision to make it a two-disc "event." Warner has added a second disc
bearing a 1996 episode of PBS's The American Experience, titled The Battle Over
"Citizen Kane." It sketches the background of the film, taking a
surprisingly pro-Hearstian view of the affair. Far from adding greatly to our
understanding of the film, it seems a slender reed to hang a whole disc of extras upon.
Oh yeah, those extras: The first disc, single-sided and
dual-layered (SS-DL), offers, in addition to the film, Dolby Digital mono and subtitles in
English, Spanish, French, and Portuguese, not to mention closed captioning. There are two
audio commentary tracks. The first is by Peter Bogdanovich, who keeps things on a fairly
trivial level. The other audio commentary is by Roger Ebert and this is choice stuff.
Ebert's take on Kane is learned and insightful -- I particularly enjoyed his
comments concerning the numerous scenes in which Kane stands by and watches his fate being
decided by others.
There's also brief newsreel footage from the New York
premiere, in May, 1941, a storyboards gallery, a call sheets gallery, a stills gallery
(commentary by Ebert), a "brothel shot" gallery (a deleted scene -- sort of), an
advertising and poster art gallery, portions of the original press book, and a gallery of
stills and materials relating to the film's opening night. Printed material includes a
Welles biography, a production history of the film, a two-screen list of awards and honors
Kane won, and a cast and crew list. Frankly, the entire set of extras is pretty
much of a letdown.
A far better companion to Citizen Kane is the 1999
HBO film, RKO 281 -- The Battle Over "Citizen Kane." It shares some of Kane's
exuberance and tells the story of the film's genesis with brisk brio and great economy.
It's graced by a collection of superb performances -- Lev
Schreiber as Welles, John Malkovich as Mankiewicz, James Cromwell as Hearst, and Melanie
Griffith as Marion Davies. They create a nuanced account of the birth of Welles'
masterpiece, one that never takes the easy way out. (Cromwell's Hearst is believable and
sympathetic, although an implacable foe.) It's well worth seeking out if Kane whets
your appetite.
And to complete our Welles trifecta, I encourage you to see
Tim Robbins' Cradle Will Rock, a fictionalized account of Orson Welles' and John
Houseman's WPA Theater Project presentation of Marc Blitzstein's proletarian opera The
Cradle Will Rock.
Not only do Welles and Houseman make an appearance as the
artistic directors of the musical, but so do Hearst and Davies -- most notably in a scene
where Hearst lets young Nelson Rockefeller in on the secret of managing artists: control
the museums.
Cradle Will Rock is a rollicking tale about the
artistic process that recreates the almost intoxicating sense of participation that
collaborative art is capable of. The viewer actually experiences a similar high to that of
the performers -- which is extremely rare in film.
Cradle isn't without flaw -- it lags in places and
it actually mis-steps in its treatment of Blitzstein's mental state -- but compared to
what it gets right, these are quibbles. It's a rip-roaring paean to art and theater that
will thrill you and satisfy you.
...Wes Phillips
wes@onhometheater.com
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