If I had to choose the greatest Hollywood film ever made...

As I was writing this, Indian media speculation — of a rather scurrilous sort — had peaked over the untimely death of Bollywood superstar Sridevi, who passed away in Dubai. Conspiracy theories abounded, and yellow journalism had turned at least 50 shades deeper. What did it have to do with Citizen Kane, the movie that was made more than 75 years ago, you may ask.

Well, quite a bit, because newspaper tycoon Charles Foster Kane (the role is loosely based on the life and times of Randolph Hearst, the man who kickstarted the trend of ‘sensationalist’ journalism in late 19th century America, in an attempt to secure more readership, and, by extension, more revenue), in an unforgettable exchange from the film says, “…if the headline is big enough, it makes the news big enough.”

But that doesn’t make Kane — or Charlie as he was called by his best friend-turnedpersona non grata Jedediah — a bad guy. He was human, full of frailties, vulnerabilities, misguided arrogance and (much like Shakespearean tragic heroes) overweening ambition. Offset by “a private sort of greatness… but he kept it to himself ”.

I’d purchased my Citizen Kane DVD from New Delhi’s Pallika Bazar, sometime in 2004 or 2005; that was a time when Pallika housed (among other stores) a thriving DVD “aisle of shops”, that used to be my go-to place on afternoon breaks (from work). I chanced upon the DVD (it was obviously pirated, but I wasn’t having an “ethical” moment right then), and flashbacked to the 1990s when I’d read a piece on the film’s “perfection”, and somehow the name had stuck in my mind’s recesses.

I think I bought it because I could have bragging rights. “Oh, you know, I have the DVD of Citizen Kane” — that kind of stuff. For the longest time, though, I couldn’t bring myself to watch it because I’d (foolishly) assumed it’d be a dated piece of reel. 1941. Just seemed too long ago. I was mentally picturing obsolete props and deadpan acting. And bad makeup, surely?

Yes, I would watch it at some point, but I was in no hurry for a date with antiquity.

Then, one afternoon, I decided to take the bull by its horns. Let me put myself out of misery and be more movie-literate.

So, I watched Citizen Kane. And I was bowled over by how effectively it managed to blur timelines. It was slices of life, here and now; my heartstrings were tugged as I sat all teary-eyed, hugging my cushion (for emotional succour) on the chaise my landlady had provided as part of the paraphernalia of the “furnished apartment” I had rented.

Back in the day, Citizen Kane was a “critical” success, and was nominated for Oscars in 9 categories, but won only for Original Screenplay. It fared badly at the box office and couldn’t even recover its costs. The film “faded” from public memory and got a second lease of life almost a decade and a half later when some European critics praised it. But from then, it gathered a new momentum, topping most movie lists of all-time greats down the decades.

A few months ago, there was a discussion at work on the greatest film ever made. The usual suspects in that face-off is The Godfather and/vs Citizen Kane. I’d just watched The Godfather trilogy on the trot (had watched the first and second instalment, individually, sometime in the 90s), and loved all three. The first (with Marlon Brando) has always been considered the pick of the lot, and many people feel it’s the greatest film of all time.

Which one is it for me, I was duly asked: The Godfather or Citizen Kane?

I’ll go with Kane, I said. Even though it’s been more than a decade since I watched it, I remembered the sense of overwhelmingness that had engulfed me that afternoon. It wasn’t just being overwhelmed if I remembered correctly, I added. But damn, I needed to revisit Kane. I hadn’t so far because I was scared, with age, some of its magic wouldn’t be drawn with silver.

I watched it again (and thank God I did, since that qualifies me to write for our “Oscar-worthy” section this Friday!), and was relieved to find out it’s just as riveting as ever, if not more.

With a more evolved sense of cine-appreciation, I tapped into its hitherto (circa 1941) unknown techniques called “pan focus” (the camera, like the human eye, sees an entire panorama at once, with everything clear and lifelike) and low-angle shots. Its extended use of light and shade. Its line-up of method actors — all of them newbies who went to become powerhouses. Felt proud I was so much more in the know now than I was earlier.

Also wondered: was Kane the one who instituted that “news goes on for 24 hours a day”? I have no idea about the real-life context, but I’m willing to take its word for it.

Talking of words, it managed to get my notepad out… to take down snatches of conversations which prove that, unlike iPhone or SUV upgrades, there are some things that last a lifetime, maybe longer.

Like the old age quote. “Old age. It’s the only disease that you don’t look forward to being cured of ”.

Like when Jedediah Leland — played by Joseph Cotten (it was his debut, and his breakout role) — says: “I can remember everything. That’s my curse… It’s the greatest curse that’s ever been inflicted on the human race: memory.” Or, “Guess all he really wanted out of life was love. That’s Charlie’s story, how he lost it. You see, he just didn’t have any to give.”

Or when Charlie (Kane) says, “I always gagged on the silver spoon”, and “I don’t know how to run a newspaper, Mr Thatcher; I just try everything I can think of.”

Or when Susan says “I don’t know many people,” and Charlie responds with, “I know too many people. I guess we’re both lonely.”

“Rosebud”. In the history of world cinema, one single word has not stirred up as much mystique as “Rosebud” did.

Towering over this collage of greatness is Orson Welles, who produced, directed, co-scripted and played Kane. He was 26 at the time Citizen Kane released, and his role demanded he straddle a 21- to 70-year-old age bracket. I keep thinking of half-baked 26-year-old actors these days who are called “boys” (worse, “kids”), and are best described as “teeny boppers” — because that’s all they’ve been able to achieve in their “short” lives thus far.

Watching it again, I couldn’t help feeling our (read: mankind’s) best days are firmly behind us.

And maybe that’s what qualifies Citizen Kane as the greatest film ever.