Grade: A (95/100)
Director: Orson WellesYear Released: 1941
I imagine that having seen Citizen Kane for a cinephile is like having had your first period for middle school girls. People say they have- often lying. Only the ones who really have get it. Some people are confused by it- mostly outsiders who wonder how it could possibly be so important and life-changing. I'm proud to announce that, unlike I did in middle school about periods, I am not lying when I say that I have, indeed, seen Citizen Kane and can now hereby attest to its greatness as a film. While I can't really explain why it was so groundbreaking and influential (I say this with the general understanding that its production and filmmaking style transformed the industry), I can say that Citizen Kane has a lot going for it, and remains today, 75 years after its release, as legendary as a first period- not to mention funny, thought-provoking, and generally entertaining.
My first exposure to Citizen Kane was in The Simpsons parody (obviously, as The Simpsons is what taught me about all the cultural landmarks that I am now exploring as a teenager and not just blindly referencing), in which Mr. Burns loses his beloved Bobo, a little stuffed bear. For most of the movie I was, like the investigators, trying to figure out what the hell Rosebud was, erroneously convinced that I'd missed young Charles Foster Kane drop a bear in the snow like Montgomery Burns did. After I finally gave up the stuffed animal idea, I knew it was the sled, and that really bummed me out, not just because a sled is significantly less cool of a toy than a bear, but because I can understand why someone would stay attached to a stuffed animal, whereas a sled is so hard and cold. But isn't that just fitting for a character whose sympathetic impairment fuels most of the film. Orson Welles's spectacular performance as the newspaper mogul, a conceited, haughty man whose general incapacity for sentience juxtaposes beautifully with his obsession with his lost innocence, has clearly inspired generations of actors playing similar roles. Something about his performance inspired me to think of Leonardo DiCaprio's frequent ambitious turns as characters meant to evoke Charles Foster Kane, constipated imitations that seem embarrassing when compared to the real thing. Welles originates the role and owns it to this day.
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| Mr. Burns and Bobo, a much cooler beloved possession than a sled |
I liked so much about Citizen Kane, which greatly relieved me. How stupid would I feel if I didn't wholly enjoy what is undisputedly considered the greatest film ever made? Still, I wonder how people came to recognize its significance at that level. When did Welles's spectacular tale, a spinoff of history and a thoughtful portrait of humanity, gain that impossibly prestigious title? I believe the only justifiable reason for my curiosity in this matter is my personal situation as someone who was born in 1998 which, even to me, seems like not that long ago. People of my generation who find themselves screening Citizen Kane will, no doubt, take much of its brilliance for granted. I'm sure I did, even if I didn't want to. How would I, as a person who sees ceilings in movies and television constantly, understand the significance of Welles's revealing the ceilings in certain shots? How would I pick out the use of deep focus and incredible depth of field as a person who probably sees these techniques imitated constantly but am none the wise about it? In a way I feel cheated out of the amazement of being able to see a film like Citizen Kane at the time of its release, to understand the groundbreaking cinematic techniques that had never been precedented and would forever change the industry. The closest I've ever gotten to that privilege is when Spy Kids 4 was released to theaters in 4D, which I learned too late was just 3D with a scratch-and-sniff paper attached to the glasses.
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| Apparently the most famous shot from Citizen Kane |
Still, watching Citizen Kane in the year 2016 as a 17-year-old girl was a privilege akin to eating some sort of really good gourmet food that's always been an enigma. It's what I imagine trying something like caviar or quail meat would be like. All the usual suspects are there- it's tasty, you can see why rich and smart people love it, it's a more sophisticated flavor of something cheap stuff tries to imitate, but it's got a unique something-something that is really pleasant. I say this having never tasted caviar or quail meat. I'll cut the analogies now. I really loved Citizen Kane, wincing at the dramatic irony, appreciating the cinematic effects that combined film noir with satire and documentary. In a way, actually, I see Citizen Kane as the original mockumentary, a story within a story within several other stories about a famous man whose one tie to humanity seems severed forever by the very people who desperately searched for it. I marvel at the idea of a group of reporters trying to uncover a newspaper tycoon's deepest secret, using skills he taught them to exploit him after his death while also allowing them to question whether or not he was really human- whether he was Charles Foster Kane, a media mogul and citizen of a society he helped build, or a person who felt and experienced loss and joy. How deliciously ironic that a man whose entire existence was built upon publicity was an enigma with a secret life suspended in time.
What's more, to me, is how simple and yet complex Citizen Kane is as a film and as an idea. It's taken me several weeks since first seeing it to be able to piece together my interpretation of the film, and I'm sure it will evolve the more I watch it. But I will say now that I understand, in my own little way, its significance to an industry that I'm trying to pick apart, movie by movie, until I find the core of inspiration and the real stories- all to see, not if they're true, but how they've mattered.
I rented Citizen Kane on Amazon for $3.99, but it's also available for purchase on iTunes and, I'm sure, at your local video store.
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