Citizen Kane
FROM ITS FIRST shot — craning over a fence to reveal a spooky mansion — to its last — zeroing in on a furnace to reveal ‘Rosebud’ — Citizen Kane is crammed with indelible images. But if you were looking for one shot to stand in for all the brilliance of Orson Welles’ barnstorming 1941 debut, Kane’s electioneering speech at Madison Square Garden might just do the trick. Full of stylistic bravura, cinematic sleightof-hand, political smarts and a powerhouse of a performance, it is the movie in microcosm.
The 1916 gubernatorial rally comes during the section where Kane’s closest friend, Jed Leland (Joseph Cotten), charts the rise and fall of the newspaper magnate’s political ambitions. The crowd-pleasing address was captured on Stage 7 at RKO studios in Culver City. It starts with a long shot of the Madison Square Garden interior seemingly filled to the brim with a rapt crowd. The image is a testament to the brilliance of optical effects genius Linwood Dunn and matte painter Mario Larrinaga, who had both previously worked on RKO’S King Kong. The only live-action element is the stage (with some 30 actors); the mass audience is actually a Larrinaga matte painting, pricked with holes so that light would shine through and create the illusion of motion in the “crowd”.
Following a cheeky dissolve, the shot continues to move in on Kane holding court, with the audience in the palm of his hand. As with many images in Kane, the camera is looking up at Welles, investing him with mythic stature — a trick the filmmaker stole from his directing idol, John Ford. “I screened [Ford’s] Stagecoach every night for a month with someone different from the studio,” recalled Welles, “and then asked questions.” Welles also purloined Ford’s cameraman, Gregg Toland, who elevated Kane (and Kane) to another level. “The greatest gift a young director could ever have is a cameraman who would do anything you ask,” Welles once said. “Anything was possible. He [Toland] never tried to impress me with the fact he was doing impossible things but he was.”
Welles wasn’t just concerned with the visuals, though. Coming from a radio background — his 1938 audio retelling of The War Of The Worlds freaked out America — he implored RKO sound technician James G. Stewart to make the rally sound like “Madison Square Garden with 10,000 people in it”. During filming, Welles adopted the manner of speaking in a huge hall, waiting for the echoes to die, but ultimately Stewart re-recorded the speech with Welles orating in a long hallway, adding in applause, laughter and shouts of encouragement. When the mix was finished, Stewart had done his job too well.
“You’re a bigger ham than I am,” Welles barked. “Who’s going to look at me with that sound coming at them? It’s great, but give me half as much.” For once, cinema’s master showman showed a modicum of restraint.