Review of Citizen Kane (1941) by Gerard V — 01 Jan 2019

What more is there to say about the sheer genius of Orson Welles's Citizen Kane? I'm not sure I can add anything novel to the film's glowing critical esteem, but having finally seen it again, I can at least re-affirm my ardent and unwavering admiration for it.

The mesmeric opening sequence alone blows you away, not just for its cinematographic virtuosity (more of that in a moment), but with its sheer gusto and masterful scale of storytelling. Any film that opens on a series of dissolves has my attention (I based the opening few pages of my Eivissa on this technique, so it's nice to know I've received inadvertent affirmation of that sensibility from the great Orson Welles!) The sentimental snow-glass being dropped portentously, the strange perspectives refracted through the snow-glass, then the immortal dying utterance of "Rosebud" - these all brilliantly set up the film's thesis probing the genesis of Charles Foster Kane. Then this opening, extrovert flourish is immediately counteracted by an antithetical, matter-of-fact news report introducing the figure of Kane in a more 'conventional' way.

It's probably boring to non-cinephiles the amount of swooning commentators do over Welles' command of the medium, but it really is immense, with every second of every frame revealing some kernel of information or emotion through an element of framing, perspective, sound design or storytelling. Most scenes in the film are immemorial, but the melancholic tracking shot to Susan's washed-up Atlantic City show by use of a magical faded cut crystallises the bittersweet end-destination of Kane's failed experiment (his second wife), and the imposing, echoing sound design in Xanadu is amazing - emphasising the de facto mausoleum Kane has built for himself.