Bosley Crowther,
reviews of Citizen Kane in The New York Times, 2
May and 4 May 1941.
(2 May 1941)
- Within the withering
spotlight as no other film has ever been before, Orson Welles's Citizen
Kane had its world premiere at the Palace last evening. And now that
the wraps are off, the mystery has been exposed, and Mr. Welles and the
RKO directors have taken the much-debated leap, it can be safely stated
that suppression of this film would have been a crime. For, in spite of
some disconcerting lapses and strnge ambiguities in the creation of the
principal character, Citizen Kane is far and away the most surprising
and cinematically exciting motion picture to be seen here in many a moon.
As a matter of fact, it comes close to being the most sensational film
ever made in Hollywood.
- Count on Mr. Welles;
he doesn't do things by halves. Being a mercurial fellow, with a frightening
theatrical flair, he moved right into the movies, grabbed the medium by
the ears and began to toss it around with the dexterity of a seasoned veteran.
Fact is, he handled itwithmore verve and inspired ingenuity than any of
the elder craftsmen have exhibited in years. With the able assistance of
Gregg Toland, whose services should not be overlooked, he found in the
camera the perfect instrument to encompass his dramatic energies and absorb
his prolific ideas. Upon the screen he discovered an area large enough
for his expansive whims to have free play. And the consequence is that
he has made a picture of tremendous and overpowering scope, not in physical
extent so much as in its rapid and graphic rotation of thoughts. Mr. Welles
has put upon the screen a motion picture that really moves.
- As for the story
which he tells--and which has provoked such an uncommon fuss--this corner
frankly holds considerable reservation. Naturally we wouldn't know how
closely--if at all--it parallels the life of an eminent publisher, as has
been somewhat cryptically alleged. But that is beside the point in a rigidly
critical appraisal. The blamable circumstance is that it fails to provide
a clear picture of the character and motives behind the man about whom
the whole thing revolves.
- As the picture
opens, Charles Kane lies dying in the fabulous castle he has built--the
castle called Xanadu, in which he has surrounded himself with vast treasures.
And as death closes his eyes his heavy lips murmur one word, "Rosebud."
Suddenly the death scene is broken; the screen becomes alive with a staccato
March-of-Time-like news feature recounting the career of the dead man--how,
as a poor boy, he came into great wealth, how he became a newspaper publisher
as a young man, how he aspired to political office, was defeated because
of a personal scandal, devoted himself to material acquisition and finally
died.
- But the editor
of the news feature is not satisfied: he wants to know the secret of Kane's
strange nature and especially what he meant by "Rosebud." So
a reporter is dispatched to find out, and the remainder of the picture
is devoted to an absorbing visualization of Kane's phenomenal career as
told by his boyhood guardian, two of his closest newspaper associates,
and his mistress. Each is agreed on one thing--that Kane was a titanic
egomaniac. It is also clearly revealed that the man was in some way consumed
by his own terrifying selfishness. But just exactly what it is that eats
upon him, why it is there, and for that matter whether Kane is really a
villain, a social parasite, is never clearly revealed. And the final, poignant
identification of "Rosebud" sheds little more than a vague, sentimental
light upon his character. At the end Kubla Kane is still an enigma--a very
confusing one.
- But check that
off to the absorption of Mr. Welles in more visible details. Like the novelist,
Thomas Wolfe, his abundance of imagery is so great that it sometimes gets
in the way of his logic. And the less critical will probably be content
with an undefined Kane, anyhow. After all, nobody understood him. Why should
Mr. Welles? Isn't it enough that he presents a theatrical character with
consummate theatricality?
- We would, indeed,
like to say as many nice things as possible about everything else in this
film--about the excellent direction of Mr. Welles, about the sure and penetrating
performances of literally every member of the cast and about the stunning
manner in which the music of Bernard Herrmann has been used. Space, unfortunately,
is short. All we can say, in conclusion, is that you shouldn't miss this
film. It is cynical, ironic, sometimes oppressive, and as realistic as
a slap. But it has more vitality than fifteen other films we could name.
And, although it may not give a thoroughly clear answer, at least it brings
to mind one deeply moral thought: For what shall it profit a man if he
shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? See Citizen Kane
for further details.
(4 May 1941)
- Now that the returns
are in from most of the local journalistic precincts and Orson Welles's
Citizen Kane has been overwhelmingly selected as one of the great
(if not the greatest) motion pictures of all time, this department rather
finds itself with the uncomfortable feeling of a cat regarding a king.
For we, in spite of the fact that we cast our vote in favor of it, frankly
went to the polls with our fingers dextrously crossed and came away vaguely
uneasy about the absolute wisdom of the choice. Mr. Welles has made an
absorbing, exciting motion picture, and there is no question but what,
compared with the average, it is vastly superior. But is it, as some of
the more enthusiastic votecasters have called it, the greatest film ever
made? Is it, indeed, a great picture--saying "great" with awe
in one's voice? And does it promise much for the future of its amazing
young producer? We, a minority feline, are not altogether certain, and
a careful consideration of those questions will form the burden of these
allegedly second thoughts.
- One fact cannot
be disregarded in an estimation of this film: when Citizen Kane
had its world premiere at the Palace on Thursday evening it was riding
the crest of perhaps the most provocative publicity wave ever to float
a motion picture. The circumstances of the case are too familiar for more
than capsule repetition. Mr. Welles had made the picture in the greatest
secrecy--had written it, produced it, directed it, and acted in it with
carte blanche from RKO, his apparently self-satisfied sponsor. Furthermore,
the aura of mystery was rendered even more formidable by the fact that
Mr. Welles was an enfant terrible of note, had created quite a murmur with
his well-advertised oddities and had already taken a bye on two previously
projected films.
- Then suddenly the
word got around as to what Citizen Kane was all about--the story
of a newspaper publisher who rules a chain of aggressive journals and lives
in baronial splendor surrounded by treasures of art. Immediately folks
got suspicious that it might bear a close parallel to the life of an eminent
publisher now living in much the same way. Certain ones saw the picture
and allegedly pulled strings to have it squelched. The matter at once became
news. Would Citizen Kane be released? Would RKO dare to fly in the
face of assumed improvidence? Many folks became considerably disturbed,
so when finally the picture was presented it had an audience waiting breathless
and alert.
- This fact is very
important for one particular reason: regardless of what the film actually
showed upon the screen, this extraordinary advance publicity preordered
a mental attitude. Folks who are generally familiar with the history of
yellow journalism in America and with its more notorious exponents were
prepared to see in Citizen Kane an archetype of ruthless publisher.
Further, they were ready to respond with quick and prescient recognition
to even the slightest implication. And although the film fails completely
to state a case against Publisher Kane, to identify him except by vague
suggestion with the flagrant tactics of yellow journalists, it is the belief
of this department that most of the people who have seen the picture so
far have come away with the solid conviction that they have beheld the
image of an unscrupulous tycoon.
- Yet at no point
in the picture is a black mark actually checked against Kane. Not a shred
of evidence is presented to indicate absolutely that he is a social scoundrel.
As a matter of fact, there is no reason to assume from what is shown upon
the screen that he is anything but an honest publisher with a consistently
conscientious attitude toward society. This is a surprising realization
after you've seen the film, but it is a fact. We saw it twice just to make
sure. And because there is this lack of positive characterization, because
the real significance of Kane depends entirely upon one's personal
preconceptions, we are inclined to feel that Mr. Welles is slightly hoodwinking
the public. Or rather, we should say that circumstances have made it possible
for him to do so.
- Of course one might
reasonably argue that Mr. Welles, as an expert showman, has simply taken
advantage of an established attitude and that the picture anyhow is not
concerned so much with the importance of Kane to society as it is with
the importance of the man to himself. In a measure this is true. But the
entire significance of Kane to himself and to those around him is predicated
upon the assumption that he is a sort of monster, that he has betrayed
everything that is decent in his mania for wealth and power. And this the
picture does not show.
- We hate to discover
inconsistency in a film which is so beautifully made--and beautiful is
a temperate word for Mr. Welles's Citizen Kane. Everything about
it, from a technical point of view, is surpassingly magnificent. With the
able assistance of Gregg Toland, whose contribution was obviously great,
he has made use of all the best devices of pure cinema which have been
brought out through the years. And he has invented a few of his own. Mr.
Welles and Mr. Toland have used the camera not only to record a story but
to comment upon it, to compose by visual contrasts and sharp glimpses caught
from unusual points an overpoweringly suggestive film. The music of Bernard
Hermann is applied with incomparable effect; Mr. Welles has directed the
whole with the sureness and distinction of a seasoned master, and the entire
cast--but especially Joseph Cotten, Dorothy Comingore, Everett Sloane,
and Mr. Welles himself--perform it in a manner which puts to shame the
surface posturings of some of our more popular stars.
- But this corner
is inclined to suspect that the enthusiasm with which Mr. Welles made the
film--the natural bent of a first-class showman toward eloquent and dramatic
effects--rather worked against the logic of his story. And the accomplishment
of his purpose has been so completely impressive that it tends to blind
the audience to the holes in the fabric.
- . . . And when
the significance of "Rosebud" is made apparent in the final sequence
of the film, it provides little more than a dramatic and poignant shock.
It does not clarify, except by sentimental suggestion, the reason for Kane's
complexity.
- And so we are bound
to conclude that this picture is not truly great, for its theme is basically
vague and its significance depends on circumstances. Unquestionably, Mr.
Welles is the most dynamic newcomer in films and his talents are infinite.
But the showman will have to acquire a good bit more discipline before
he is thoroughly dependable. When he does--and let's hope it will be soon--his
fame should extend to Mars.