Geeky, but in a good way…
😀 😀 😀 😀 😀
As a casual and totally unknowledgeable movie watcher, I’ve never appreciated Citizen Kane as much as I feel I should. I’ve always been aware that the reason for this is that largely I watch films on a pretty superficial level, for the plot and acting, whereas often with these films that are designated as ‘great’ it’s as much for cinematography, innovative technique etc. So this looked like the perfect book to help me understand just what it is I’m missing about a film that is often cited as the greatest movie ever made.
In the introduction, Harlan Lebo explains that the book is based on source documents and conversations with some of the participants in the making of the film. He points out that there are a lot of myths around the film, many of them created by Welles himself for the fun of it. He proposes to debunk at least some of these myths (none of which I knew anyway) at the same time as getting to the truth behind the mythology. He recommends having the film set up ready to watch each scene as it’s discussed. I heartily agree with this advice – it added a lot to my understanding of the more technical side of the book to be able to see what Lebo was describing. I also watched the film all through to refresh my memory of it before I began reading, and that was useful too.
Lebo starts with a brief biography of Welles’ achievements on stage and radio before he was given a contract by RKO. His notoriety following the famous War of the Worlds broadcast had made him hot property, with every studio wanting to sign him. RKO won the bidding war by offering him unprecedented artistic freedom to produce, write, direct and star in his own movies – all this when he was just 25. He was granted things previously unheard of, such as the right to determine the final cut. Hollywood was agog, and split between those who were pleased to see artistic control handed over in this way and those who resented the meteoric rise of this inexperienced and as yet untested young man. Lebo gives a good idea of how, at this time, Hollywood studios were throwing money at people they hoped would bring a good return.
Once Welles is installed at RKO, Lebo takes the reader through the entire process of the making of Kane in painstaking and pretty geeky detail. But geeky in a good way – written so that even I, who wouldn’t recognise a movie camera if I tripped over it, was able to easily understand. No detail is too small, no aspect too obscure to be included here, from budgeting, casting, direction, production, even what days particular scenes were filmed on. Sounds dreadful, huh? And yet, I found it increasingly fascinating – I had no idea of all that went into producing a film and began to feel a much greater admiration for the strange and wonderful people behind the camera, sometimes far behind it.
One of the bits I found most interesting was the creation of the script, over which there is apparently some debate about who should have had the major credit. By examining the various drafts, Lebo shows how the idea originated out of a kind of brainstorming between Welles and scriptwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz, who then went on to produce a very lengthy and wordy script. Lebo then shows how Welles went about paring this down and down, partly for budgetary requirements, but mainly because he intended to use the camera to tell the story as much as the words. I found reading the original extracts and then watching the final version gave a real idea of how Welles’ directorial skills enabled him to keep the thing lean without losing the intrinsic essence of it.
Lebo also goes into huge detail on the cinematography of Gregg Toland, who was thrilled to be working for a director who wanted to try out new things. He made me aware of things my usual careless watching would never have let me notice, such as the, for then, unusual fact that the rooms have ceilings, or that many of the shots are filmed from unusually low angles, or that the focus is entirely different from many movies of that time by having everything in focus simultaneously.
In similar vein, Lebo shows how budget restrictions led in part to the empty look of some of the sets, especially in the Thatcher archives scene and the Great Hall at Xanadu, giving the film a distinctive and unique look enhanced again by Welles choosing to put in echoes to emphasise and use rather than hide the vast bareness. And he contrasts that with the detail of, for example, the props in Susan’s various rooms all of which add to her character almost subliminally – the rather childish stencilling on the walls, the dolls on the bed and so on. These are just some examples – every aspect of the making of the film is covered in similar detail: music, special effects, editing, etc., etc.
In the final section, Lebo covers the controversy that nearly stopped the film from being released – the suggestion that it was based on the life of the newspaper magnate, William Randolph Hearst, whose organisation and supporters did everything they could to have it suppressed and very nearly succeeded. To be honest, initially I thought this would be the bit of the book that intrigued me most, but actually I found all the production stuff much more interesting.
So the burning question is – did it all make me like the film more? Well, I waited a few days and then watched it again. And… I fear not! I now have much more appreciation of the work that went into it, I admire a lot of the innovation, I see the stuff about the cinematography, I’m impressed by the dissolves between scenes, I hear how the music is being used. But… nope! It still just doesn’t do it for me. Oh well, never mind! I still thoroughly enjoyed the book. Recommended for Kane buffs, movie buffs, and people with a weird penchant for detailed geekiness. I think we all know which category I fall into…
One last word: “Rosebud!”
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, St Martin’s Press.