Showing posts with label Orson Welles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Orson Welles. Show all posts

Monday, September 01, 2014

'The Third Man' Was One of the Best Film Noirs Ever Made



"In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love — they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

Harry Lime (Orson Welles)
American Film Institute's #37 movie villain

All my life, I have heard that "Citizen Kane" is the greatest movie ever made.

But, apparently, some people think "The Third Man," which premiered on Sept. 2, 1949, is the greatest movie ever made. Well, one of them, anyway. And Orson Welles starred in both.

While there was no mistaking Welles' role in "Citizen Kane," it was kind of hard to figure out the part he played in "Third Man" until more than halfway through. See, up to that point in the movie, the assumption everyone made was that Welles' character, Harry Lime, had recently died. There had been a funeral and everything.

The guy with the most screen time was Welles' friend, a writer played by Joseph Cotten (who also appeared in "Citizen Kane"). He showed up in postwar Vienna planning to work for Welles — only to learn Welles' character recently died after being struck by a car while crossing the street.

But was that really what happened? That, as film critic Roger Ebert observed, is "the engine that drives the plot."

Cotten was told that a mysterious third man helped two other men (whose identities were known) carry Welles from the scene. He was also told by a British officer (Trevor Howard) that Welles had been a thief and a murderer, accusations Cotten refused to believe. But, as the movie progressed, he learned that what he had been told was true — and he found out that Welles was very much alive.

"By the time Lime finally appears," Ebert wrote, "we have almost forgotten Welles is even *in* the movie."

And, thus, the stage was set for the final scene — a chase through the sewers of Vienna.

It was in that final scene that the movie's distinctive cinematography was most in evidence, with its severe lighting and unusual camera angles.

"The chase sequence ... is another joining of the right action with the right location," Ebert wrote. "Harry escapes into the sewer system like a cornered rat, and [director Carol] Reed edits the pursuit into long, echoing, empty sewer vistas, and closeups of Lime's sweaty face, his eyes darting for a way out."

And the music. Its influence on the mood of the movie was unmistakable.

"Has there ever been a film where the music more perfectly suited the action?" Ebert wrote, referring to the nearly constant zither music. Reed came across the musician who performed it one night in a Viennese beer house where the musician was playing. The movie's theme was one of the biggest hits of 1950.

My answer to Ebert's question would be "Probably not."

I don't think "The Third Man" was the greatest movie ever made — I'm still inclined to give that designation to "Citizen Kane" — but I definitely think it was one of the great film noirs ever made.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The Night of the Alien Invasion



I was reminded today, when I went to the campus to advise the newspaper staff, that this is the 75th anniversary of the broadcast of Orson Welles' radio adaptation of "War of the Worlds."

It was performed by Welles' "Mercury Theatre on the Air" group, which included the likes of Ray Collins, Joseph Cotten, Arlene Francis and Agnes Moorehead among others.

Roughly the first 40 minutes of the 62–minute CBS broadcast were presented as news bulletins reporting an alien invasion. The bulletins apparently were quite convincing — aided, no doubt, by the fact that the drama had no commercial interruptions — and a mass panic ensued.

Well, it was said that there was a mass panic, but there has been a debate over just how many people actually did panic on the night of Oct. 30, 1938. The number that has been settled on is 6 million.

That sounds like a lot, but it is actually about one–fifth the audience of rival NBC.

Welles and his group were criticized by some for the allegedly deceptive nature of those news bulletins, but the broadcast opened with a passage from the novel that described the aliens' intentions and noted that the events in the drama were set in 1939 — the following year.

Listeners who came in on the broadcast after that opening wouldn't have known what was going on — but such a listener, if he/she really listened to the broadcast and used some logic and common sense, could have figured out it wasn't real. At one point, the broadcast announced the start of a battle — only to announce not only the conclusion of the battle but also a body count within a minute.

Of course, you have to remember the context of the broadcast to understand why some people panicked. War was in the air in Europe. Within a year, the Nazis would invade Poland; within two, they would be in Paris.

In fact, the Radio Research Project studied the Halloween Eve broadcast and concluded that roughly one–fourth of the estimated 6 million listeners believed it was real — but most did not think Martians were invading. They believed the Germans were invading.

I have to think they were predisposed to react as they did.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

Citizen Kane is 70



I have long said that "Citizen Kane" is my favorite movie.

Others have said it is the greatest movie of all time (but not necessarily their favorite film) — among them the American Film Institute.

Sometimes it is said both admiringly and indirectly — in the way that, for example, the Montreal Gazette observes that Jack Layton "has gone from 'having something less than a hope' to 'something more than a chance' " in tomorrow's Canadian election.

(Those are versions of lines from the movie, by the way — from Citizen Kane's very own campaign speech.)

That has led to something of a conflict for me, I think. Is it my favorite film? Or is it the greatest film of all time? Or is it more than that? Is it both?

Is it — to borrow a line from the original Saturday Night Live show — a floor wax and a dessert topping?

It's all become something of a cliche, I suppose. Roger Ebert suggested as much in the Chicago Sun–Times when he wrote in 2008 that "it's settled: 'Citizen Kane' is the official greatest film of all time."

That doesn't alter, in any way, how I feel about the movie. I never needed AFI or Roger Ebert or the Montreal Gazette — or anyone else — to validate my assessment for me.

I consider myself a student of film. I'm hardly an authority on the subject, but I do believe there are some things about filmmaking that I know that most average movie viewers do not.

One of the things I know is that "Citizen Kane" — which made its New York debut on this day in 1941 (it showed up in theaters across the U.S. a few months later) — was a groundbreaking movie in many ways.

If you already knew that, I'm glad. But if you didn't, let me tell you a few things:

  • It experimented extensively with what is known as "deep focus," in which everything in a scene — from the most extreme foreground to the most extreme background — is in sharp focus.

    That might not impress people today, but 70 years ago ...

  • It also utilized low–angle shots more than any film that had come before.

    A low–angle shot is when a camera is positioned below the eyeline and photographs something as if looking up. From that perspective, interior shots show ceilings — or, rather, where a ceiling should be.

    That's the kind of technique that seems to be used these days mostly to imply the dominance of someone or something over another. In the "Star Wars" movies, for example — especially the early ones — Darth Vader was often seen from low angles.

    At the time "Citizen Kane" was filmed, most movies were made on sound stages, not on location. Thus, most indoor scenes could not show ceilings. The low–angle shots in "Citizen Kane" were designed to give viewers a feeling of intimacy by showing ceilings.

    "Citizen Kane" didn't always use actual ceilings. It often used material that looked like ceilings and created the illusion of an ordinary room while managing to conceal boom microphones.

  • Aside from the cinematography, the movie used storytelling techniques that were, if not entirely new, certainly unconventional.

    Most of the story was told in flashback, not chronologically. Montages were used to show the passage of time. And background information was provided early in the form of a newsreel that was inspired by the newsreels of the period.

  • The movie also pioneered techniques in makeup, special effects and sound effects, some of it the result of Orson Welles' experiences in radio.

  • And "Citizen Kane" introduced the moviegoing public to many people — performers and others — who would be significant in years to come, including Bernard Herrmann, who wrote an Oscar–nominated score for the film.

    Herrmann, a longtime Welles collaborator, had a distinguished career, writing scores for films by Alfred Hitchcock, Joseph Mankiewicz, François Truffaut, Martin Scorsese and Brian De Palma and composing music for the original Twilight Zone TV series.
Beyond all that stuff, though, "Citizen Kane" had many memorable moments, made possible by the talented cast.

Like the musing of Kane's friend and associate, Mr. Bernstein (Everett Sloane), about a persistent memory of a girl he saw briefly some 40 years earlier ...

... and the agony of Kane's second wife, Susan (Dorothy Comingore), as she tried to come to terms with his death.

The magic of a movie begins with the writers who put thoughts and ideas on paper, but it is the great actors and actresses who breathe life into those words and the composers who write music that complements the story. "Citizen Kane" may have had one of the finest such ensembles I have ever seen.

Everyone remembers Kane's cryptic "Rosebud," uttered on his deathbed.

But I also remember the adult Kane's revealing conversation with his guardian after signing over his holdings during the Depression.

"If I hadn't been very rich," Kane said, "I might have been a really great man."

"Don't you think you are?" his guardian asked.

"I think I did pretty well under the circumstances," Kane said with that bemused Orson Welles smile.

"What would you like to have been?" his guardian persisted.

Kane glared at him. "Everything you hate."

There are many such moments in "Citizen Kane." The character is loosely based on William Randolph Hearst so, in a way, I guess, it is a journalist's story — but not really. Kane was cynical about his profession, even seemed weary when the subject came up.

It might have been possible to tell that story with Kane as a leader of another industry, but I doubt that it would have been as effective.

As the newsreel that opened the movie told the audience about Kane and the first half of the 20th century, "All of these years he covered, many of these he was."

Even so, "Citizen Kane" was not so much the story of a newspaperman as it was the story of a man — born into poverty, raised in wealth and privilege — and isolated by it as an adult.

It's a floor wax and a dessert topping.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Welles' Magnificent Encore



I don't know if Harry Truman actually said this. It was a line from "Give 'Em Hell, Harry!" the play that earned great reviews for James Whitmore on both stage and screen back in the 1970s.

Truman didn't actually say all the things that Whitmore did in his one–man play. But if he didn't, he should have.

Like, for example, what Whitmore/Truman said about finding something to do after you've been president.

"It's hell for a man trying to find work when he's been president of the United States," Whitmore/Truman told his audiences. It's a great line — and it sounds very Trumanesque — but I have seen no confirmation that Truman ever said it.

And when you think about it, he probably never did. He was nearly 70 when he left the White House. I doubt he spent much, if any, time looking for something to do after his presidency ended.

But the point is well taken — and applicable to many fields, not just the presidency, although I'm sure Jimmy Carter and Bill Clinton, both of whom were in their 50s when they returned to private life, knew all too well what Truman may have been talking about (if, indeed, he ever said it).

I'm sure Orson Welles would sympathize. He was in his mid–20s when he made "Citizen Kane," which has often been named as the greatest film of all time.

Now that brings me to a question. When you're 26 and you've just made the greatest film of all time (although it wasn't widely acknowledged then to be the best ever made), what does one do for an encore?

In Welles' case, he made a movie that was shown on Turner Classic Movies Saturday night — "The Magnificent Ambersons," which was a film adaptation of the middle novel of Booth Tarkington's "Growth" trilogy.

I didn't realize it was being shown Saturday night until I was doing a little channel surfing and came across it just as it was starting — a little late to spread the word. But it isn't too late to recommend that you put it on your "must–watch" list. I just can't tell you when it will be shown again.

If you have ever seen "Citizen Kane," you will recognize many of the cast members. They belonged to the Mercury Players company that Welles founded with John Houseman. Folks like Joseph Cotten, Agnes Moorehead (who may be best remembered for her role on TV's Bewitched) and Ray Collins (who may be best remembered for his role on TV's Perry Mason) appeared in both movies.

And, once again, Welles wore many hats. He directed and produced the film, wrote the film adaptation and provided the narration (but, unlike "Citizen Kane," he didn't star in it). Tim Holt, who later played Humphrey Bogart's sidekick in "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre," portrayed the Amberson grandson who eventually got his long–anticipated "comeuppance."

Making that movie was a different kind of experience for Welles. "Citizen Kane" had been his project, but he lost control of the editing of "The Magnificent Ambersons." Ultimately, more than an hour was cut from the film and the ending was changed.

Nevertheless, it is recognized as quite an accomplishment. It doesn't have space–age special effects, but the movie is about the 19th century, and its special effects solutions seem appropriately old–fashioned for the subject matter.

For example, there is a scene set in the outdoors during the winter that illustrates the conflict between the automobile and the horse–drawn sleigh. To give as much of a realistic flavor as possible, Welles filmed the scene in a Los Angeles ice house. That is why, when you watch the movie, you will see the actors' breath.

It's a lesson that should not be lost on today's filmmakers. Too often, 21st–century filmmakers seem to believe that "special effects" should be splashy explosions, dazzling light shows, etc.

If that is what a film requires to tell the story, that is fine. But special effects are not just visual effects. They can be sound effects, too. And if they are visual effects, they can be something as simple as seeing a character's breath when he/she is outdoors in the winter.

It was that kind of attention to detail that made "Citizen Kane" the great movie that it was and remains, nearly 70 years later.

And that same attention to detail made "The Magnificent Ambersons" a worthy encore.

If you didn't see it, I sincerely hope you do the next time it is on.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

'Citizen Kane' Revisited


"Any man who has the brains to think and the nerve to act for the benefit of the people of the country is considered a radical by those who are content with stagnation and willing to endure disaster."

William Randolph Hearst
(1863-1951)


I worked with a fellow nearly 10 years ago who had been employed as a cashier at a video store for awhile.

He told me that a customer came up to him once and asked what was the best movie in the store. Without hesitating, my friend replied, "Citizen Kane."

Of course, the customer was asking about current movies, not a film that was made before America entered World War II.

But most film experts acknowledge that my friend was correct: Even though it is nearly 70 years old now, "Citizen Kane" is the greatest American film ever made.

Turner Classic Movies will show "Citizen Kane" unedited and uninterrupted Wednesday night at 9 p.m. (Central).

It doesn't have most of the elements that modern films require to be successful. It doesn't have splashy special effects or scantily clad (if clad at all) actresses. There's no objectionable language, no drug use, and the limited alcohol use is implied. It wasn't even filmed in color.

What you get when you see "Citizen Kane" is a great story (with a lot of filmmaking techniques that were innovative at the time). It is Orson Welles' directorial and acting masterpiece.

That's the common link between great films, no matter when they were made. They tell great stories.

The film tells the story of Charles Foster Kane, a wealthy newspaper owner. It begins with the newsreel that tells his public story on the occasion of his death — which viewers already know came while he was clutching a small snow globe in his hand. He uttered the word "Rosebud," the globe slipped from his lifeless hand and a mystery was born.

For the rest of the movie, a reporter seeks out Kane's associates to see if he can discover the meaning of the word "Rosebud."

He is inspired in his quest by an editor with whom he and some other reporters watched a preview of Kane's memorial newsreel.

"Maybe he told us all about himself on his deathbed," the editor says. "[W]ho is she? ... What was it? ... [W]hen he comes to die, he's got something on his mind called 'Rosebud.' Now what does that mean?"

One of his colleagues has a suggestion: "A racehorse he bet on once ... that didn't come in."

"But what was the race?" asks the editor.

Those who have seen the film know what the word "Rosebud" meant. I don't want to spoil it for anyone. That's part of the pleasure of the discovery of "Citizen Kane."

Whether you've seen it before or not, I urge you to watch it. Discover it — or re-discover it.

Everyone from the film's cast and crew has passed away now. The last one standing was Moyer "Sonny" Bupp, who played Welles' son in what amounted to a bit part. He died Nov. 1, 2007, at the age of 79.

Welles himself passed away 23 years ago this month.

But thanks to the magic of the movies, they live on to tell the story of Charles Foster Kane — whose story was loosely patterned after the life of influential American journalist William Randolph Hearst.