Thursday, April 10, 2014

Citizen Kane (1941)

Kane's iconic campaign-poster shot


Re-watching “The Film…”

As much as I enjoy cinema, until recently I’d only seen Citizen Kane once, and that was a long time ago. I think I was too young and philistine when I watched it, because after it was over I remember thinking “…what’s the hub-bub about?” I mean, Kane is almost universally praised by critics as the greatest motion picture of all time. Welles’ work as writer/director/producer on the film is cited as evidence of his genius. But for some reason, the film was largely lost on me. After seeing Casablanca for the first time, I remember thinking “now that’s the classic that lives up to its reputation!” The inference being that Kane…not so much.

So I went back and watched it recently, hoping I’d get more from it this time. Going in, I assumed “most of the cutting-edge technological leaps and creative flourishes which Kane made famous are now things that have more or less become standard during my 40 years of film viewing. So while they may have been a big deal back then, they’re all taken for granted, at this point, right?” After watching it again, what I found (with the help of Roger Ebert’s terribly insightful commentary on the DVD extras; his perspective felt like taking an abbreviated film course) is that now I think I finally get it. At least a little bit more than before.

What I hadn’t realized was that it wasn’t just the story (which is a kind of mystery about the meaning of billionaire Charles Foster Kane’s last words, but along the way examines wealth, greed, egalitarianism, and power) or the acting that earned Kane its accolades, but the technical aspects, and their execution, which were so revolutionary.

What struck me initially was terrific, old-fashioned dialogue that movies just don't have any more. Who writes lines like “Hey everybody, lookee over here!”, and “Don’t worry about me! I’m Charles Foster Kane!” in 2014? So that grabbed me. What should’ve impressed, (at least according to Ebert) was how, during the early edits of the opening scenes, the light in the window of Kane’s mansion “Xanadu” stays in essentially the exact same place, despite shots fading in-and-out; important technical stuff like this is too often lost on me).

Also, there was the exaggerated lighting and dark shadows (that reminded me of, and obviously influenced Scorsese, later on). Ebert specifically lauded the revolutionary work of cinematographer Gregg Toland, in his remarks. He points out things like how certain characters’ faces were always cloaked in shadows and darkness, as well as how Toland plays with light in certain scenes (specifically those where he creates shafts of light in the screening room and enormous museum/vault scenes. Further, Ebert notes how elevated sets were constructed so cameras could often placed at floor-level, shooting upwards at its subjects. This low-level angle created the “mythic shot” where, when looking up at subjects, characters take on an air of being larger than life. In addition, this perspective keeps the ceilings (which were created out of muslin fabric which became, and in which many of the lights and microphones were hidden) in frame. I'm not sure I’d have ever noticed any of these small touches.

Another of Tolland’s innovations is the creation of  “deep focus.” He uses a technique in which everything on screen is in focus, regardless of their distance from the camera. This allows characters in the background to also demand attention, creating multiple points of interest. Thus, Kane has extensive foreground/background shots, changing depth of field without changing focus. 

Other stylistic embellishments would go on to influence later generations of film makers. Characters speak off-camera, which Woody Allen would ultimately adopt (as well as Kane’s off-center framing).  Cameras often move and telescope into extreme close up, trademarks of Terrence Malick’s work decades later. The stark interiors recall the set design of the Coen Brothers Hudsucker Proxy. Comic, staccato line deliveries rival those of Abbot and Costello and the Marx Bros. Newsreel footage at beginning reveals plot points, then the story circles back around to them later, a story-telling style Tarantino used in Pulp Fiction. The enormous warehouse full of endless crates is appropriated by Speilberg almost identically, in the final shot of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

One scene at a dinner table is famous for how, through clever editing, it illustrates the passage of time.

The acting is typical of the time period. Most everyone else over emotes, as if on stage performing a play. Which makes sense, since many were radio actors who’d previously worked with Welles. His Charles Foster Kane is larger than life, so the exaggerated style fits. Similarly anachronistic is the fact that seemingly everyone smokes.

As an influential piece of work, that changed the ways in which motion pictures were made, Kane is unrivaled. It’s unconventional use of lighting, camera angles, perspective and story telling must’ve turned off audiences used to more predictable fare; it wasn’t a box-office hit.

But is it entertaining? Not all the time. In parts, pacing is slower than most of what we’re used to from Hollywood today. It’s not nearly as light on its feet as something like It’s a Wonderful Life. However, as a drama, it’s not trying to be, either.

I felt a little cheated while watching. Kane has become such a cultural touchstone, I knew what the puzzling “Rosebud” meant all along. If I hadn’t, would Citizen Kane been a different experience? Almost certainly. It was still a good film. Though perhaps more so to film scholars than to the general public.


PS- If you can, watch a version that contains Ebert’s commentary. It adds immeasurably to understanding what makes this film great.

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