Orsen Welles as Charles Foster Kane in Media Home Entertainment and Mercury Productions Inc.’s Citizen Kane, © 1941-2006.

The opening scenes of Citizen Kane are like a refresher course of Humanities, its texture recalling Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa and its complexity recalling Van Gogh’s Starry Night.  The camera travels up a fence, past a “No Trespassing” sign, up a different fence, and finally comes to a gate: a strong and beautifully designed gate.  In a way, this opening is a foreshadowing of the future story, as the audience sees a little of each fence, as each becomes more unusual and complex.

Orson Welles’ debut is nothing less than staggering, and after his friends saw the film, they told him he might as well quit, for he would never match his first film.  And he never did, largely due to negative press from William Randolph Hearst, who was incorrectly supposed to be the basis of the film.  The Magnificent Ambersons, Welles’ second work, was butchered by Warner Brothers in his absence.  Thereafter, it was difficult for Welles to find backing for a film.

Welles had come to Hollywood from New York, where he had been an acclaimed stage actor and director of the Mercury Theatre Group.  He became most famous, though, after his broadcast of War of the Worlds, which actually sent many listeners into a panic, believing it to be a real alien invasion.

His ticket to Hollywood came in the form of a contract which has since become known as the Holy Grail of moviemaking: complete control over the production of a film.  To most, this is known as the right of Final Cut.  This contract was given to Welles at the age of 25, when he had yet never even directed a feature before.  And it was this contract which had some in Hollywood hoping for his failure.

But not all were against him.  Gregg Toland, at the time one of the most innovative cinematographers in the business, came to Welles and wanted to work on the film.  Toland had said that the only way to learn something was to work with someone who did not know the rules.  Welles more than fit those parameters.  In fact, Welles indeed knew so little about these rules that he, for a month, went around lighting scenes as he saw fit until someone told him that that was Toland’s job.  An embarrassed Welles would apologize to Toland, who was ultimately so responsible for the making of the film that Welles would include his name on the same credit that featured his own name, something unheard of at that time.

Citizen Kane is the story of Charles Foster Kane, played by Orson Welles from 25 into his late 70s.  Truthfully, it is a story which never features Kane’s point of view, only that of others.  It begins with Kane’s death, and then it shows a newsreel which has a purpose of organizing the story and acclimating the audience with Kane in an impersonal way so that when the audience becomes subjective later in the story, it can feel its way through the events portrayed.  Because of the film’s non-linear narrative, this “News on the March” reel serves ultimately to help the audience not become confused during the film’s many flash-forwards and flashbacks.

Following the “March of Time” inspired newsreel, the story really begins.  Several reporters are gathered together in the screening room, pondering the reel.  They discuss it, wondering about Kane’s dying word: “Rosebud.”  What is it? they ask.  This is the beginning of Jerry Thompson’s journey to interview those who knew and survived Kane. 

He first goes to Kane’s second wife, the despondent Susan Alexander, who tells him nothing, then to Kane’s childhood guardian, William Parks Thatcher, who is deceased at the time but has an unpublished memoir for Thompson to look through.  It is here that we get our first look at Kane in a flashback straight out of Thatcher’s memoirs, which details his first meeting with the boy, his raising Kane, and his battles with Kane.  Ultimately, it provides nothing of value with regards to Rosebud.  Thompson’s next visit is to Mr. Bernstein, Kane’s enthusiastic general manager.  Mr. Bernstein’s memories detail Kane’s first arrival at the New York Inquirer, his all-important Declaration of Principles, his first betrayal of those principles, and his marriage to Emily Monroe Norton.  However, once again, Thompson learns nothing of Rosebud.

Thompson, played by William Alland, then travels to visit Jedediah Leland, Kane’s best friend.  Leland’s flashbacks tell us about the breakdown of Kane’s first marriage in one of the most famous montages in film history.  Erich von Stroheim’s Greed similarly featured a doomed marriage, the breakdown of which takes nearly an hour of the film’s length.  Here it takes but a couple of minutes.  Leland’s other memories reveal how Kane met his second wife, his failed attempt to become governor of New York, his long but futile fight to make Susan Alexander an opera star, and his ultimate falling out with Leland.  Thompson finally pays a visit again to the second Mrs. Kane, who is now ready to talk.  She tells him nothing of Rosebud but does inform him about their marriage, which began with Kane trying to make her a star, which resulted in her attempting suicide.  She tells of their life at Xanadu, Kane’s palatial home, and how she left him.  It is a dejected Thompson who arrives at Xanadu, then, without having learned anything.  His final interview would similarly reveal nothing of substance about Rosebud, and Thompson correctly concludes that it would not explain anything.  In response to a question about what he had been doing for the past week, Thompson replies: “Playing with a jigsaw puzzle.”  In the screenplay, Thompson has a long monologue that details many of Kane’s contradictory personality traits, his good qualities and ideals that were overshadowed by his greed and ambition.

Citizen Kane is considered by many, many fans and critics alike to be the best film ever made.  Film critic Roger Ebert on the DVD commentary acknowledges that it is his favorite film.  The American Film Institute in 1998 honored it as the number one film of all time, and beginning in 1952 and every ten years since, the Sight and Sound Survey has named it the number one film of all time.  But why is this film so honored?  Every year, there are dozens of films that come out that are heavily acclaimed, with any number of critics claiming it to be the best film of that year.  Recent near-unanimity among critics came in the form of American Beauty, which was selected as best picture by 65 critics in 1999, a number most Best Picture nominees do not receive in top-ten lists alone.  But it is a rare event that such agreement takes place.  A brief comparison might be in order: Sam Mendes made his directorial debut with American Beauty, much like Welles did with Citizen Kane; cinematographer Conrad Hall, whose other works include Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Road to Perdition, for which he also won Oscars, won an Academy Award for his lavishly beautiful camerawork in Beauty, while Gregg Toland was praised for his deep focus photography that reached full – pardon the pun – focus in Kane; and it was Alan Ball’s first produced feature script in Beauty, and Welles’ first in Kane.  Of course, this comparison is only a comparison.  Kane could be compared to Pulp Fiction, which also won the screenplay Oscar, was nominated for eight others, and was innovative to narrative storytelling.  Again, what makes Citizen Kane so good?

For this review, three scenes will be highlighted.  Each of these scenes will cover one or all of three topics: camera shots and their narrative value; art design; and lighting.

First, there is a scene early in the film that is part of Mr. Bernstein’s flashbacks.  Resident in the scene are Kane, Leland, and Bernstein.  In the scene, Kane is writing his Declaration of Principles to be published on the front page of his paper.  It begins with a low-angle shot with Bernstein in the lower right corner.  Throughout the film, it is almost always true that the person recalling the scene is sitting in the lower right hand corner.  It is also the case for Thompson, who, never being seen in the film, represents us.  The camera in this scene is subjective; it tells the story from Mr. Bernstein’s point of view.  Also important is the arrangement of the characters.  Jedediah is on the left, Kane is in the middle, and Bernstein is on the right.  This puts Kane at the apex of a triangle, and at the center of the audience’s attention.

Also, this low-angle shot enables the audience to see the ceiling, an important stride in moviemaking.  Most films up to that time had no ceilings because they were shot on sound stages.  But the ceilings in this scene are actually cloths that disguise the boom mikes hidden above them.  They also help with backlighting.

Speaking of lighting, there is an important sequence within this scene when Kane walks over to his desk to sign his Declaration.  When he does, he is backlit, effectively hiding his face, putting in doubt his ideals.  While he does believe them, they are in doubt because he will not live up to them.

Also interesting is the music that is heard as the scene begins.  When we first zoom in to see Kane and Leland, there is menacing music playing, lightly heard over the soundtrack.

A second scene just a few minutes later is just as brilliantly artistic in these means.  It begins with one of the most famous special effects shots in the film.  When Kane stops in front of the Chronicle, he looks at a picture that features a caption: “The greatest newspaper staff in the world.”  It is Kane’s desire to acquire this staff.  There is a slow zoom in to match the frame of the photograph, then the photograph becomes real life as Kane has gotten his dream team and is throwing a party for them.  More low-angle shots are used, but there is one shot in particular that stands out.  When Kane is dancing with the showgirls, the camera turns its attention to Bernstein and Leland.  Leland is a bit suspicious of these newly hired reporters who have suddenly switched sides, and he fears that his friend is losing his ideals.  In the shot, Leland is, like the scene above, on the left, and Bernstein is on the right.  Kane, reflected in the window, is between them, surrounded by an otherwise dark window.  This shot mirrors a shot early in the film when Kane’s mother was signing papers that made Thatcher his guardian.  In that scene, Kane’s father was on the left, and Thatcher and Kane’s mother were on the right.  In the middle, out the window, was little Charlie Kane, surrounded by the white snow outside.  The two windows reflect different attitudes: in one, as a child, Kane is innocent, playing in the snow; in the other, as an adult, Kane is losing conviction, surrounded by the pitched-blackness of the outside.  Back at the party, when Bernstein says, “Only they happen to be the best men in the business,” Leland exhales a puff of cigar smoke, which clouds Kane’s reflection.  What this symbolizes is Kane’s betrayal of his Declaration of Principles, and his friend’s beginning doubts.  The reason the camera is important in this scene is because most scenes like this would have had alternating close-ups of each character as they talked.  But here Welles opted for the symbolic shot.

The set in this scene is actually one that is used many times in the film.  It appears 1) as the Inquirer newsroom, 2) as the party room in this scene, and 3) as Kane’s eventual campaign headquarters.  What is peculiar here is the lowness of the ceilings.  Welles’ head nearly touches the ceiling as he dances.

The lighting in this scene is also peculiar.  When Kane calls out the dancers, the scene receives some light from above the ceiling but also from some footlights.  On a stage with no ceiling, this would be realistic.  But the combination of the above lighting and ground lighting, coupled with the low ceilings, gives an ominous impression.  Faces are darkened, and it feels like, as Roger Ebert put it, someone has a flashlight under their chin.  This becomes most evident once Kane begins dancing.

In this second scene, the sound design is of course dominated by a musical number.  The music is upbeat, it is enthusiastic, and it is funny.  What is troubling perhaps about it is the content of the song.  It is a song about Charles Foster Kane, and here he is singing it and dancing to it.  Kane’s ego is getting bigger, and this is the scene that springboards all scenes in the future where Kane is trying to control others’ thoughts and opinions.

Finally, there is another scene early in the movie originating in Thatcher’s memoirs.  In the scene, it is 1929, and Kane is signing away claim of his newspapers to Thatcher.  As Mr. Bernstein reads the document, Kane enters the screen on the right side.  He is pacing.  In the foreground are Thatcher and Bernstein, and in the background are three windows seemingly about normal height; Kane is intermittent between the foreground and the background.  As he walks toward the windows, it becomes apparent that they are actually as tall as Kane himself, and standing before them, Kane cannot see out them. 

Many times during the course of the film this type of trick is used, where the set appears different than it is.  Another time is when Kane walks to the background at Xanadu, stopping in front of his fireplace, which must be ten feet tall.  When Kane was in the foreground, it appeared normal size.  This visual trick symbolizes Kane’s loss.  When Kane returns to the foreground, he takes a seat between the two men, sitting back comfortably.  The arrangement of this scene puts Kane at the apex of a triangle.  This setup is used many times in the film.  And, like it often does, this triangular relationship emphasizes what is happening in the scene: Kane is at the “center” of discussion, and he is at the center of the scene, diminished in some sense by the fact that others are discussing his life.  Another time this happens is when Jim Gettys is blackmailing Kane into withdrawing from the election for governor, and Kane stands between Susan Alexander and Gettys.

These are merely three scenes in this great film, with references to others, which are heightened artistically by use of the camera, the set, and the lighting.  There are many worthy scenes in this film.  Really, there are no flaws in the movie that come to mind easily, although it is certain that there might be a factual error.  One can find those on the Internet Movie Database’s website.

As for weaknesses, there might be a few; however, these weaknesses are dubious.  Some of the performances, particularly Agnes Moorehead’s, are considered to be overdone.  If one thinks that is a weakness, one might be right.  The only argument against it is that Welles used many different styles to make this movie, and in that regard, it is like D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation.  It is a culmination of every technique, special effect, genre, and innovation up to that point.  So Welles at times uses melodrama, like when Kane meets Thatcher; he uses comedy when Kane arrives at the Inquirer for the first time; he uses animation, too, at the picnic just before Susan Alexander leaves him.  For all the talk about the film’s innovation, it is worth noting that Welles was using things that were already in existence.  He did not invent something new; he just used the medium to present a film in a way that no one had ever seen before.

The strengths of the film are many: from the long takes to its cinematography.  One of the greatest strengths of the picture is that it never deviates from its goal.  In nearly every scene, Welles, Robert Wise, the editor, and Gregg Toland maintain their visual presentation.  They use the characters’ triangular relationships, they also use line-of-sight visuals, which tell the audience where to look despite that everything is in focus, and they use dissolves where first the background fades out, then the new background fades in, followed by the foreground fading out of the old scene, and finally, the new scene’s foreground fades in.

The visual look of Citizen Kane is but one part of the film’s rich text.  Welles a lot of times directs the film as if it was a stage play.  There are countless unbroken takes where no cuts are made.  Sometimes the entire scene is all in one take.

Perhaps the greatest strength lies in its use of deep focus photography.  Gregg Toland experimented a lot with lighting and lenses to achieve the look here.  When Kane is being blackmailed by Gettys at Susan Alexander’s apartment, the background is brightly lit.  This is because in order to maintain that focus, lots of light had to be used, and it worked.  From beginning to end, every scene is in perfect focus.  There were times when the look could not be achieved naturally, though, and they were forced to use an optical printer.  An example of this is when Kane finishes a bad review of Susan’s opera performance, while at the same time, he fires the man who started it.  Each half of the scene had to be shot separately.

A final strength is the film’s seamless cuts, edits, jumps, flash-forwards, and flashbacks, all mastered by the editor, Robert Wise, whose name is more synonymous with West Side Story.  When Thatcher wishes the young Kane Merry Christmas, there is a brilliant flash forward twenty years when Thatcher adds: “And a Happy New Year!”  This is but one of the many examples of editing that is worth noting.

Overall, Citizen Kane is a worthy candidate for the best film ever made.  It is a timeless tale of corruption, greed, and, sadly, vanity.  Charles Foster Kane is sympathetic yet despicable, lovable yet loathsome, and an enigmatic symbol of power yet a truly weak man.  It is these contradictions that make up the jigsaw puzzle that is Charles Foster Kane.  At the end, when Thompson says that no word can explain a man’s life, he is right.  And when the audience finds out what Rosebud is, they will realize this truth.  “Here’s a man who could’ve been President, who was as loved and hated and as talked about as any man in our time, but when he comes to die, he’s got something on his mind called Rosebud.”  Yes, it seems the answer will explain everything, but in reality, all the answer does is raise more questions.  As so many have put it, it explains everything, but it explains nothing.  Rosebud is just another piece of the jigsaw puzzle, and as Thompson put it, a missing piece.  What Rosebud meant to Charles Foster Kane, no one will ever know; but that is not what Citizen Kane is about.  Rosebud is just an excuse to tell the story.  But it is an intriguing excuse to become a voyeur into a man’s life, to examine his actions, his motives, his emotions, and his troubles, and in the end, to come away knowing nothing of what the man was truly like.

Not Rated
Running time 119 minutes

Joel Killin is a new contributor to Maximum Movies Online and will continue to contribute essays, artistic reviews of classic films, and articles on the movies themselves.