Young Josef K. is arrested for no reason after being accused by no one, leading to an even more bizarre chain of events. Franz Kafka's novel comes to the screen via Orson Welles, and it's a striking combination. Welles, nearly broke at this time, was approached to adapt and direct the film by a company with money but no show-biz savvy; Welles was not a fan of Kafka, but he does seem to connect with these abstract characters and elements, and he revels maliciously in Josef K.'s turmoil. Still, the plot itself is a gimmick, which grows tiresome by the final third. The picture's energy level gives out and, although it continues to look amazing, interest wanes. Edmond Richard deserves much of the praise for his startling cinematography, and Anthony Perkins is compelling, if uneven, in the lead. Welles himself appears as The Advocate (a part Jackie Gleason had to turn down because of the travel involved) and he also narrates the 'pin-screen' prologue, a parable for what follows. Flaws and all, a provocative entertainment. **1/2 from ****
Review of The Trial
