Review of F for Fake (1973) by David P — 09 Oct 2007

Orson Welles' often overlooked documentary (I use the term documentary loosely) is a schizophrenic experiment of cinematic maximalism and perfectionism. From the theme of forgery and hoax Welles creates his most personal and conclusive statement on the relationship between art and artist and the nature of truth in relation to fiction. "F for Fake" was his last completed film, and it is one that only he could make: over the top, oozing with theatricality, with a large dose of humor and a strategic lack of subtlety.

We begin with a long opening credits sequence featuring a woman walking the streets of a European city. It is in this sequence that we're introduced to the kind of fluid, flawless editing that the picture will feature, and that will be touted by many critics as it's greatest success. We also are introduced to the multiple realities or, rather, multiple perceptions and manipulations of reality (anyone here seen Citizen Kane?) that Welles will utilize throughout the film. We've been watching the woman in the street for a while when Orson's deep, articulate voice informs us that she is an actress, being filmed from hidden cameras among the real people in the streets. Although Welles has promised us nothing but "the truth" in this film, in ten minutes we're already growing suspicious of him.

"F for Fake" follows four main subjects: Elmyr de Hory, the world's greatest art forger; Clifford Irving, de Hory's biographer who went on to international stardom for his elaborate Howard Hughes autobiography hoax; Welles himself, who made a ticket to Hollywood out of his famous "War of the Worlds" radio stunt; and, finally, the woman from the opening sequence, Oja Kodar. Kodar plays many roles in this film, as well as being Orson's girlfriend in real life. This mysterious woman had supposedly posed for Picasso, the collaboration producing 22 paintings that she then outright owned. Welles shows Kodar as being the alpha-woman, the way Godard did with Anna Karina, or Antonioni with Monica Vitti. Some of the stories we will hear about these characters are true, some are completely fabricated. All of the stories, however, are filtered to us through the endlessly charismatic and believable Welles.

One of the major discussions of "F for Fake" is the nature and validity of both truth and fiction. De Hory, the forger, argues that it makes no difference whether he or Matisse painted a particular picture. If people think it's a Matisse, it may as well be. One can't help but recall director John Ford's quote, "when the legend outgrows the truth, print the legend". There is one moment that perfectly illustrates the masterful confusion of this film: de Hory finishes an original painting (as opposed to a forgery), a portrait of another art forger. He then, with a quick stroke and an almost visible swelling of the ego, signs the painting "Orson Welles" (a little later on, we will see Welles finishing a drawing of his own and signing it "Elmyr").

In just under 90 minutes Welles will jump around the world, back and forth in time, and between these four subjects, holding things together with that marvelous voice, his piercing on-screen presence and his editing prowess. He appears at the beginning and again at the end as a magician, each time performing an illusion using characters in his film. Throughout his turbulent career, Orson Welles was always more of a circus ringmaster than a traditional film director. Welles' cinema is the cinema of spectacle, and "F for Fake" serves as his swan song, his artistic manifesto. Only a magician like Welles could make such a masterpiece.