by Reid Williams
Of the 20th Century Film articles I’ve done, this one may need the least amount of introduction. It’s the movie that film snobs (such as myself) wax eternally about its technical trailblazing and narrative invention. It’s the movie that’s going on 80 years old but is even recognizable among non-cinephiles (so permanently ingrained it is in the American zeitgeist). It’s the movie with the backstory almost as famous as the story itself, ripped from the headlines of a 1930s magnate who was not flattered by the portrayal. Of course, it’s also sitting pretty at #1 on the American Film Institute’s 100 Greatest American Films of All Time. Or to sum all of that up: it’s Citizen Kane.
This is likely as timely of an entry as you’ll see in this series, seeing as it is exclusively focused on films that are at least 20 years past their release. However, the release of Mank on Netflix in the next few weeks means people are talking about Kane more than they have in years. Mank is focused on the writing of the infamous screenplay of the 1941 classic, telling a brilliant story of how this film came into existence. However, that is not my purpose in this article.
As fascinating as the history of this film is, I don’t want any of that to take away from how fantastic the film still is, even all these years later. It saddens me that so much of the discussion that often surrounds Citizen Kane in film-loving circles generally revolves around how inventive it was for its time (which is true) and how daring its very creation was (also true). I simply feel that what often gets lost in the mix of all of that is how compelling and relevant the story the film tells still is. That is what I want to focus on here, since those of you who have been keeping up with these articles know that my goal is always to show that these older films (though admittedly dated in some ways) are just as worthy of being watched today as they were when they first hit the silver screen.
All that being said, here is my sales pitch for anyone who still hasn’t seen Citizen Kane before we move into spoiler country. The movie tells the tale of Charles Foster Kane, shortly after his death. A reporter interviews those who were closest to him and we see a portrait of a likeable and charismatic man who happens to have a lot of inherited money. Through struggles of politics and power, he rises and falls until he dies alone in his massive estate. The film’s narrative technique ensures that the viewer is always getting new information and new revelations as we try to understand this “great” man. The acting is fantastic, the sets are beautiful, and the two-hour runtime seems to fly by (which is one of the highest compliments I can give a movie). On top of all of this, don’t you want to be able to tell all your movie nerd friends that you’ve seen Citizen Kane?
Now that I’ve said my peace to those who haven’t yet gotten around to the film, I officially issue my spoiler warning.
“Rosebud.”
A large part of the brilliance of this film lies in the concept itself. Telling the story of a man in retrospect after he has died is of course quite common in storytelling (see Sunset Boulevard) , and used correctly and creatively it packs a tremendous punch. This contextualizes and gives purpose to everything that we see after, as well as undergirding the main theme of the film (which I’ll get to later). The utterance of a single word from dying lips, followed
immediately by the shattering of a snow globe, is both emotionally and intellectually engaging. We’re left asking the same questions the reporters are: what is Rosebud? This is a great man who based his entire life off of words, and this is what he chooses to be his final one. Why?
We then follow reporter Jerry Thompson (though you’d be forgiven for forgetting his name) as he digs through the life of Charles Foster Kane. While he has in mind a single goal: find Rosebud, the audience finds Kane himself. We see his rise and fall, as well as his effect on those he loved most. However, in all of this deluge of information, no one can tell us who or what Rosebud is. It isn’t until the final frame of the film that we see the famous Rosebud: a sled that Kane had as a child (seen in an earlier scene) before he was taken from his parents to get a “proper education” befitting a young man who was to be enormously wealthy. Of course, no one in the film sees it, as it is casually tossed into the fire along with many of Kane’s other innumerable possessions.
It is a chilling thing to think back over the things we learn from the life of Charles Kane. Men of ideals, men of great charisma and dreams, can be torn down by life to where they are an apparent curse to everyone they love and everything they touch. The scene where a much older Kane reads “Declaration of Principles” written by a much younger version of himself is endlessly haunting. The thought that, over time we all become people that we wouldn’t recognize today (both physically and principally) is somewhat terrifying to consider. As we sprinted through Kane’s life at breakneck speed, we experienced in minutes what wore Kane down over years, giving us a clear picture of the reality Kane could not see himself.
However, that may not be the most frightening thing that Citizen Kane has been teaching its viewers for the better part of a century. What is much more substantial is the fact that despite interviewing nearly everyone who was close to Kane, Thompson still didn’t learn what Rosebud was. No one, not even Kane’s closest friends, knew what was meant by his final utterance. Even we as the audience eventually come to know what Rosebud is, but do we know why that was what he spoke with his last breaths? Was he longing for a time before his great wealth and power complicated his life? Was he simply reminiscing on a fond childhood memory? The truth is we won’t ever really know. That’s the point. Regardless of how close you are to someone, Kane teaches us that no one really knows anyone else. Not the deepest recesses of our souls, where our saddest hopes and dreams lie.
These complex themes lie at the heart of Citizen Kane, and this is why I always find the film staying with me for days after I watch it. It forces some uncomfortable questions onto the audience in a way that only great movies can. How well do we really know those closest to us? What circumstances could arise that would make us sacrifice our values, even our core values? Will we be even remotely the same people we are today in ten years? Twenty? Forty? All of these are questions that are put before us as we watch this film. (Some others I often ask myself are: If I were dying, what would my last words be? And maybe more to the point, does it even matter?)
Yes, Citizen Kane i s absolutely one of the most technically important films of all-time. The use of camera angles, lenses, and effects were all essentially unmatched at the time.
However, I don’t believe that this is the main reason Kane has lived on in such fame for so long. I believe that it is because the work the story does with characters, themes, and narrative is still up there with the best stories being put to film today. This is also why I believe that Citizen Kane and its cultural relevance will never die.