Before he had even produced a feature-length film (having only two amateur shorts to his name, 'The Hearts of Age' and 'Too Much Johnson,' in addition to a hugely-successful radio programme), Orson Welles bargained a two-film contract with RKO Pictures. The first film to be made under this agreement, 'Citizen Kane,' was a controversial cinematic masterpiece, and is often held as the greatest of all time. The second film was 'The Magnificent Ambersons,' which was reportedly butchered by the studio (something that would become a saddeningly frequent occurrence in Welles' career) and was received poorly by both critics and audiences. Though the director's original vision has long been lost, with time, critics have discovered a streak of genius shining through 'The Magnificent Ambersons,' and the film's stature continues to grow.
Orson Welles wrote the screenplay himself, based on Booth Tarkington's 1918 Pullitzer Prize-winning novel, which traces the descent of a respected American family into poverty and obscurity. The film was seemingly quite a personal project for Welles, and his decision to produce a period-piece could perhaps be described as a bit unusual. The role of George Amberson-Minafer the arrogant, conceited young man from a proud and wealthy family seems positively perfect for Welles' smug boyish charisma, but, for this film, he appears only as the narrator, casting B-movie Western actor Tim Holt in the aforementioned role (this was one of only two "serious" acting performances from Holt, who also starred in John Huston's magnificent 'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948),' opposite Walter Huston and Humphrey Bogart). Regular Welles-collaborator Joseph Cotten is excellent as Eugene Morgan, an admirable but unpredictable entrepreneur who has never really recovered from being rejected in love by George's mother, Isabel (Dolores Costello). Meanwhile, the selfish and rude George falls in love with Eugene's daughter, Lucy (Anne Baxter).
There is much to be admired about 'The Magnificent Ambersons,' but I don't think it worked quite fully as a film, perhaps due in no small part to the intervention of the studio. We'll start off with the many excellent things about the production. Stanley Cortez cinematography is absolutely phenomenal, perhaps even improving upon the achievements of 'Citizen Kane.' Of particular note is the lively party sequence during the opening half of the film, employing the use of smooth, deeply-focused tracking shots, gliding gracefully among the dancing party members and catching snippets of conversation from several groups of people. The film has a dark, very bleak outlook on life, making excellent use of lighting and shadows to set the depressing mood. Tim Holt portrays the blundering stupidity and arrogance of his character exceedingly well, his unflinching stance on numerous issues most notably in the worth of the "horseless carriage," the automobile, and in the lingering romance between his mother and Eugene ultimately contribute to the downfall of his family and its legacy.
I've never particularly been a fan of period-pieces, and so perhaps this is why the narrative of 'The Magnificent Amberson,' despite being a great technical achievement, failed to entirely draw me into its world. The greatest evil, however, is the extremely disjointed structure of the film's second half, as well as an absolutely unforgivable, overly-optimistic, tacked-on ending. After Welles' original 148-minute cut (as well as a later 131 minute preview) performed poorly with test audiences, editor Robert Wise removed about one-third of the original footage (Welles himself was absent and unreachable somewhere in Brazil) and a few new scenes including that ending were filmed, directed by Wise and Fred Fleck. If I could have re-edited the film myself, I would have concluded 'The Magnificent Ambersons' with what is now the penultimate scene, as George Minafer sits beside his bed and stares helplessly downwards, the somber voice of the director informing us that "George Amberson-Minafer had got his comeuppance. He got it three times filled, and running over. But those who had so longed for it were not there to see it, and they never knew it. Those who were still living had forgotten all about it and all about him." It would have been among the bleakest and most brilliant endings in film history; however, I've heard that Welles' original version didn't end with this scene, either. Is this the masterpiece that got away, or is it a masterpiece, anyway? You decide.
Orson Welles wrote the screenplay himself, based on Booth Tarkington's 1918 Pullitzer Prize-winning novel, which traces the descent of a respected American family into poverty and obscurity. The film was seemingly quite a personal project for Welles, and his decision to produce a period-piece could perhaps be described as a bit unusual. The role of George Amberson-Minafer the arrogant, conceited young man from a proud and wealthy family seems positively perfect for Welles' smug boyish charisma, but, for this film, he appears only as the narrator, casting B-movie Western actor Tim Holt in the aforementioned role (this was one of only two "serious" acting performances from Holt, who also starred in John Huston's magnificent 'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948),' opposite Walter Huston and Humphrey Bogart). Regular Welles-collaborator Joseph Cotten is excellent as Eugene Morgan, an admirable but unpredictable entrepreneur who has never really recovered from being rejected in love by George's mother, Isabel (Dolores Costello). Meanwhile, the selfish and rude George falls in love with Eugene's daughter, Lucy (Anne Baxter).
There is much to be admired about 'The Magnificent Ambersons,' but I don't think it worked quite fully as a film, perhaps due in no small part to the intervention of the studio. We'll start off with the many excellent things about the production. Stanley Cortez cinematography is absolutely phenomenal, perhaps even improving upon the achievements of 'Citizen Kane.' Of particular note is the lively party sequence during the opening half of the film, employing the use of smooth, deeply-focused tracking shots, gliding gracefully among the dancing party members and catching snippets of conversation from several groups of people. The film has a dark, very bleak outlook on life, making excellent use of lighting and shadows to set the depressing mood. Tim Holt portrays the blundering stupidity and arrogance of his character exceedingly well, his unflinching stance on numerous issues most notably in the worth of the "horseless carriage," the automobile, and in the lingering romance between his mother and Eugene ultimately contribute to the downfall of his family and its legacy.
I've never particularly been a fan of period-pieces, and so perhaps this is why the narrative of 'The Magnificent Amberson,' despite being a great technical achievement, failed to entirely draw me into its world. The greatest evil, however, is the extremely disjointed structure of the film's second half, as well as an absolutely unforgivable, overly-optimistic, tacked-on ending. After Welles' original 148-minute cut (as well as a later 131 minute preview) performed poorly with test audiences, editor Robert Wise removed about one-third of the original footage (Welles himself was absent and unreachable somewhere in Brazil) and a few new scenes including that ending were filmed, directed by Wise and Fred Fleck. If I could have re-edited the film myself, I would have concluded 'The Magnificent Ambersons' with what is now the penultimate scene, as George Minafer sits beside his bed and stares helplessly downwards, the somber voice of the director informing us that "George Amberson-Minafer had got his comeuppance. He got it three times filled, and running over. But those who had so longed for it were not there to see it, and they never knew it. Those who were still living had forgotten all about it and all about him." It would have been among the bleakest and most brilliant endings in film history; however, I've heard that Welles' original version didn't end with this scene, either. Is this the masterpiece that got away, or is it a masterpiece, anyway? You decide.