Re: Orson Welles
Posted: Sat Jan 31, 2015 6:03 pm
Okay one last post.
Confidential Report is not only the worst version of Mr. Arkadin, but possibly the worst Welles film. It's clearly the result of editing. So all of my criticism is regarding this version of the film, not the Comprehensive version or The Corinth version (which I've seen and definitely enjoyed more than this one.
First of all, Guy Van Stratten is loathsome. I know Welles knows this. I know that's the point. Doesn't change the fact that it's a poorly acted part. The way the film is edited adds no tension. There's no build-up. There's no surprises. The film just rushes along relentlessly at a monotonous pace. The wonderful sets and ridiculous, over-the-top nature of the film that Welles is clearly going for is swept under the rug. All the little things that make Welles' films great, which always end up cut in butchered versions of his films, are gone here. I can accept how Van Stratten comes into contact with Arkadin. But I cannot accept how good he is at following the threads and picking up things. He's an idiot and a buffoon, and there's no reason for him to be so good at his job.
Many big moments, again, just felt flat. When we find out how Arkadin built his fortune (white slavery) it should be a big deal. I never caught that in the other versions, and only figured out that was how he made his riches by reading the McBride book. Now that I finally caught it in the film, why is it not emphasized in any way? It's a barely tossed off comment and there's no reason that Van Stratten could've figured it out. I will say Welles is very entertaining and good in the role. But he's sort of out of place in a sea of not great acting (except by Tamiroff, of course!)
What is Mr. Arkadin? A parable for post-WWII Europe, like The Third Man It's certainly shot that way. One of the best things about the film is that it feels like it could be of any time. We are in castles and dealing with a king like man that make it feel like a film set in the pre-industrial age. Then we are in cars and airports that make the film modern. Again, this is something rather unique to Europe it seems. But I don't know how it fits in with this film. And if that was a point of the film, I don't know how it really fits.
I will say the film made more sense to me now, but that's probably just because it's the third time/version I've seen. I'm looking forward to revisiting the comprehensive version, but Confidential Report is totally skip-able.
The positive criticism of Mr. Arkadin tends to focus, it seems, on Welles taking his stylistic flourishes and pushing them as far as one can go. I'd say Touch of Evil does that a million times better. While he only finished 4 films afterwards, it's clear this is a stopping point. The films that come after Touch of Evil bear almost no resemblance to the Welles of the 40s and 50s, and obviously, he goes out with a bang. I don't know what I can add to the film meaningfully, but the theatrical version (projected in academy!) is stupendous. There are lots of things missing that make the Re-Constructed version a real treat. Losing the entire Grandi car scene where he's trying to follow Vargas is a loss. But the butchering done to this film just isn't too bad. The theatrical version is still a brilliant, brilliant film.
Pacing-wise, we also get a very different treat than other Welles films. What I've noticed is that his excellent editing gives us fast-paced and slow scenes. We have moments of mania in some parts of films which, tonally, are balanced out by contemplation and brooding. This is done fantastically in his first two Shakespeare adaptations. Not in Touch Of Evil though. It grabs you by the juggular at the outset and never quits. Again, I don't need to go on about how beautifully it's shot and how dark the tone is and how excellent the cast is (boy do Welles' films falter when the cast isn't up to par). Everything's great. I can do nothing but recite Terry Comito's analysis of the "border crossing" that is ongoing in the film. And it really is everywhere. My favorite moment is the border Welles crosses when he sips alcohol for the first time. At that point, the dye is really cast. He's crossed over into a new territory of amorality, even for him.
If there's one thing in this film that does point the way towards Welles' later work, it's his explicit treatment of subject matter. This may just be in line with the way violence and sex evolved in this time period in general, but this film is remarkably violent. And while Welles' later films aren't generally violent, they point the way to how explicitly and openly he treats sex later on. Welles doesn't treat either of these subject matters with a lot of explicitness through 1955, but here it begins to show up I feel.
One question: is the revelation that the shoe clerk "confessed" present in the theatrical version? I may have missed it, but I could swear that piece of dialogue was cut from the version I saw.
The Trial and Chimes At Midnight are both masterpieces. The latter is regarded as such, but I'm still surprised reading negative criticism of the former by McBride and Bogdanovich, even if they've apparently come around to the film. There are two motifs that permeate Welles' films: 1) great figures falling from power 2) labyrinths that suck in the unsuspecting. Most of his early films deal with both to a degree, though some favor one theme over the other (Stranger, Othello, and Ambersons with the former, and Arkadin and Shanghai in the latter). With The Trial and Chimes At Midnight, we see Welles take on only one of his major themes at a time. The results are amazing.
The Trial is an endless labyrinth. We start somewhere we do not know. And we are quickly sucked in to something we don't understand. As K tries to get out, he falls further and further into this in-navigable maze. The evil he wants to expose is only behind the "closed door" we hear about in the film. It's in his bedroom. It's in a large courtroom. It's in a closet where three men appear. But when K is out in the open, the world seems totally normal. And he seems like the evil/crazy/deranged one. As soon as he leaves a door that he wasn't supposed to use (I believe from the Advocate's quarters), he has violated the rules of society and must be gone. The film perfectly exhibits how society can destroy someone. How one is forced to fit in, even against their own will. Even if your place where you must "fit in" is as a criminal, suspended in legal limbo. Follow the rules and you get to live. But of course: at what cost?
The sets, shooting, and tone of the film are incredibly dark. I disagree strongly with McBride's assertion that the darkness on the film wears thin. It is extremely potent and works fantastically. It fits in perfectly with, from the same year, The Manchurian Candidate in style and tone (also: what a superb score. The jazz in the film was great.) The Trial is the ultimate maze in Welles' work. This particular maze has no end, no destination. The maze and labyrinth exist to continue their own existence. K is not a great man that faces a downfall. He's a nobody, and that goes a long way to show how terrifying and ordinary society can be.
And Chimes at Midnight is the perfect film about betrayal, and a great man's downfall. Perversely, the great man is not the king, but his affable friend. As with Touch of Evil and the Trial, we get amazing performances in this film, especially by Prince Hal. And there is likely no greater moment in the cinema of Welles than Hal's dismissal of his former companion.
What a lovable character we get in Welles' Falstaff. The battle scene stuck out to me more than just because of it's power as an action scene. It does a fantastic job of showing the context of Falstaff. He has no need or interest in the actions of the kingdom. To me, one of the most telling things about the battle scene is that we really don't know who is winning until the end. The action is given an amazing potency because it is all we focus on. And in this moment, we can perfectly identify with Falstaff. While we know he is joking around during much of the film, and we know he embellishes to make himself seem greater than he is, it's of no real concern to us. We know what is in Falstaff's heart. And the idea that he has bad blood with the king, but chooses to just stay away and make snide remarks from the safety of his own home illustrates what a great, noble man he is. He is littered with shortcomings, but his shortcomings only affect himself, and are ultimately harmless. The exact opposite of Hal and his father, whose shortcomings threaten men's lives and a kingdom.
Both The Trial and Chimes keep a more consistent tone than any of his previous films, until the fantastic climactic scenes which are potent, memorable, and brilliant.
And now, I need a break!
Confidential Report is not only the worst version of Mr. Arkadin, but possibly the worst Welles film. It's clearly the result of editing. So all of my criticism is regarding this version of the film, not the Comprehensive version or The Corinth version (which I've seen and definitely enjoyed more than this one.
First of all, Guy Van Stratten is loathsome. I know Welles knows this. I know that's the point. Doesn't change the fact that it's a poorly acted part. The way the film is edited adds no tension. There's no build-up. There's no surprises. The film just rushes along relentlessly at a monotonous pace. The wonderful sets and ridiculous, over-the-top nature of the film that Welles is clearly going for is swept under the rug. All the little things that make Welles' films great, which always end up cut in butchered versions of his films, are gone here. I can accept how Van Stratten comes into contact with Arkadin. But I cannot accept how good he is at following the threads and picking up things. He's an idiot and a buffoon, and there's no reason for him to be so good at his job.
Many big moments, again, just felt flat. When we find out how Arkadin built his fortune (white slavery) it should be a big deal. I never caught that in the other versions, and only figured out that was how he made his riches by reading the McBride book. Now that I finally caught it in the film, why is it not emphasized in any way? It's a barely tossed off comment and there's no reason that Van Stratten could've figured it out. I will say Welles is very entertaining and good in the role. But he's sort of out of place in a sea of not great acting (except by Tamiroff, of course!)
What is Mr. Arkadin? A parable for post-WWII Europe, like The Third Man It's certainly shot that way. One of the best things about the film is that it feels like it could be of any time. We are in castles and dealing with a king like man that make it feel like a film set in the pre-industrial age. Then we are in cars and airports that make the film modern. Again, this is something rather unique to Europe it seems. But I don't know how it fits in with this film. And if that was a point of the film, I don't know how it really fits.
I will say the film made more sense to me now, but that's probably just because it's the third time/version I've seen. I'm looking forward to revisiting the comprehensive version, but Confidential Report is totally skip-able.
The positive criticism of Mr. Arkadin tends to focus, it seems, on Welles taking his stylistic flourishes and pushing them as far as one can go. I'd say Touch of Evil does that a million times better. While he only finished 4 films afterwards, it's clear this is a stopping point. The films that come after Touch of Evil bear almost no resemblance to the Welles of the 40s and 50s, and obviously, he goes out with a bang. I don't know what I can add to the film meaningfully, but the theatrical version (projected in academy!) is stupendous. There are lots of things missing that make the Re-Constructed version a real treat. Losing the entire Grandi car scene where he's trying to follow Vargas is a loss. But the butchering done to this film just isn't too bad. The theatrical version is still a brilliant, brilliant film.
Pacing-wise, we also get a very different treat than other Welles films. What I've noticed is that his excellent editing gives us fast-paced and slow scenes. We have moments of mania in some parts of films which, tonally, are balanced out by contemplation and brooding. This is done fantastically in his first two Shakespeare adaptations. Not in Touch Of Evil though. It grabs you by the juggular at the outset and never quits. Again, I don't need to go on about how beautifully it's shot and how dark the tone is and how excellent the cast is (boy do Welles' films falter when the cast isn't up to par). Everything's great. I can do nothing but recite Terry Comito's analysis of the "border crossing" that is ongoing in the film. And it really is everywhere. My favorite moment is the border Welles crosses when he sips alcohol for the first time. At that point, the dye is really cast. He's crossed over into a new territory of amorality, even for him.
If there's one thing in this film that does point the way towards Welles' later work, it's his explicit treatment of subject matter. This may just be in line with the way violence and sex evolved in this time period in general, but this film is remarkably violent. And while Welles' later films aren't generally violent, they point the way to how explicitly and openly he treats sex later on. Welles doesn't treat either of these subject matters with a lot of explicitness through 1955, but here it begins to show up I feel.
One question: is the revelation that the shoe clerk "confessed" present in the theatrical version? I may have missed it, but I could swear that piece of dialogue was cut from the version I saw.
The Trial and Chimes At Midnight are both masterpieces. The latter is regarded as such, but I'm still surprised reading negative criticism of the former by McBride and Bogdanovich, even if they've apparently come around to the film. There are two motifs that permeate Welles' films: 1) great figures falling from power 2) labyrinths that suck in the unsuspecting. Most of his early films deal with both to a degree, though some favor one theme over the other (Stranger, Othello, and Ambersons with the former, and Arkadin and Shanghai in the latter). With The Trial and Chimes At Midnight, we see Welles take on only one of his major themes at a time. The results are amazing.
The Trial is an endless labyrinth. We start somewhere we do not know. And we are quickly sucked in to something we don't understand. As K tries to get out, he falls further and further into this in-navigable maze. The evil he wants to expose is only behind the "closed door" we hear about in the film. It's in his bedroom. It's in a large courtroom. It's in a closet where three men appear. But when K is out in the open, the world seems totally normal. And he seems like the evil/crazy/deranged one. As soon as he leaves a door that he wasn't supposed to use (I believe from the Advocate's quarters), he has violated the rules of society and must be gone. The film perfectly exhibits how society can destroy someone. How one is forced to fit in, even against their own will. Even if your place where you must "fit in" is as a criminal, suspended in legal limbo. Follow the rules and you get to live. But of course: at what cost?
The sets, shooting, and tone of the film are incredibly dark. I disagree strongly with McBride's assertion that the darkness on the film wears thin. It is extremely potent and works fantastically. It fits in perfectly with, from the same year, The Manchurian Candidate in style and tone (also: what a superb score. The jazz in the film was great.) The Trial is the ultimate maze in Welles' work. This particular maze has no end, no destination. The maze and labyrinth exist to continue their own existence. K is not a great man that faces a downfall. He's a nobody, and that goes a long way to show how terrifying and ordinary society can be.
And Chimes at Midnight is the perfect film about betrayal, and a great man's downfall. Perversely, the great man is not the king, but his affable friend. As with Touch of Evil and the Trial, we get amazing performances in this film, especially by Prince Hal. And there is likely no greater moment in the cinema of Welles than Hal's dismissal of his former companion.
What a lovable character we get in Welles' Falstaff. The battle scene stuck out to me more than just because of it's power as an action scene. It does a fantastic job of showing the context of Falstaff. He has no need or interest in the actions of the kingdom. To me, one of the most telling things about the battle scene is that we really don't know who is winning until the end. The action is given an amazing potency because it is all we focus on. And in this moment, we can perfectly identify with Falstaff. While we know he is joking around during much of the film, and we know he embellishes to make himself seem greater than he is, it's of no real concern to us. We know what is in Falstaff's heart. And the idea that he has bad blood with the king, but chooses to just stay away and make snide remarks from the safety of his own home illustrates what a great, noble man he is. He is littered with shortcomings, but his shortcomings only affect himself, and are ultimately harmless. The exact opposite of Hal and his father, whose shortcomings threaten men's lives and a kingdom.
Both The Trial and Chimes keep a more consistent tone than any of his previous films, until the fantastic climactic scenes which are potent, memorable, and brilliant.
And now, I need a break!