Fading in on an ominous nighttime exterior, the camera slowly focuses on a high wrought-iron fence filigreed with the initial "K." Beyond spreads Xanadu, the vast estate of one of the world's wealthiest men. The camera surveys the grounds--empty gondolas swaying on a private lake, exotic
animals penned in a private zoo, manicured lawns and shubbery--all shrouded in fog. Towering above the mist is the top of a man-made mountain on which sits a castle, a single light shining from it. Within is a dying man who clutches a crystal ball enclosing a winter scene and make-believe snow. He
utters one word, "Rosebud," and dies, dropping the ball, which breaks into tiny shards.
So begins Orson Welles's legendary CITIZEN KANE. After several projects came to naught, notably an adaptation of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, 25 year-old wunderkind Welles, already a sensation in the theater and radio worlds, made what is unquestionably the most stunning debut in the
history of film. KANE is a landmark film for myriad reasons, not the least of which is the variety of techniques employed--quick cuts, imaginative dissolves, even the iris device once popular in silent films. Indeed, none of the filmmaking methodology of the past is left unused, but KANE also
contributes an array of innovative cinematic devices, most notably Gregg Toland's astonishing deep-focus photography (a technique pioneered by legendary cinematographer James Wong Howe). Visually this is Toland's film, a masterpiece of shadow and sharp contrast that artfully conveys murky moods
and occasional moments of gaiety as camera and reporter search for the meaning of a man's life.
Welles took credit for writing most of KANE's superb screenplay, but the bulk of its incisive, witty, and unforgettable scenes and dialogue were most probably scripted by screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz, brother of Joseph, the noted film producer-director-writer. Nonetheless, Welles's contribution
as director-producer remains awe-inspiring: he chronicles Kane's life through a combination of highly dramatic episodes and newsreel-like footage--slices of life that form a compelling patchwork biography. The film is so tightly constructed that every scene counts, filling in a piece of the
puzzle, incomplete though it may be after reporter Jerry Thompson (William Alland) traces five accounts of the millionaire's life.
At the film's conclusion, reporters gather at Kane's estate, moving through a warehouse that is being cleared of endless piles of curios, stacks of furniture and countless crates containing Kane's purchases. As they move off into the dark recesses, a high boom shot reveals a staggering collection
of toys, paintings and statues. Slowly the camera pans the heaps of Kane's possessions until it comes to a blazing furnace into which workmen throw all items considered to be junk. One of the workers picks up a sled--the very one Kane had as a boy in Colorado--and throws it into the fire. The
camera closes in tightly on the top of the sled, and as it catches fire, the name "Rosebud" is revealed before the letters burn away. The scene shifts to the outside of the looming castle, panning upward to the high chimney from which Kane's lost youth curls upward into the night sky. The camera
pulls back from the edifice, concluding the film with the shot of the iron fence with which it began.
CITIZEN KANE has influenced countless filmmakers and established the taste of discerning audiences worldwide. It is the epitome of filmmaking, a masterpiece for which Welles, one of the greatest practitioners of the cinematic art, will be forever remembered. leave a comment
