American actor and filmmaker Orson Welles in 'Citizen Kane', 1941. Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
Orson Welles’ legendary “Citizen Kane” capitalized on the perfect storm of success: unprecedented creative freedom for supremely talented people. Naturally, as the principled actor, director, and co-writer, Wells deserves the lion's share of the credit. The precocious genius even conducted magic tricks to misdirect nosy studio executives while captaining this unparalleled production!
However, the paradigm-shifting innovations of Cinematographer Gregg Toland and the foundational screenplay of writer Herman J. Mankiewicz merit praise as well. Together, the trio delivered a film that changed the entire industry. Here’s the story of “Citizen Kane.”
"Citizen Kane" was nominated for nine Academy Awards but only won for Best Screenplay
The Broadcast Heard Around America
Amazingly, “Citizen Kane” amounted to Welles’ literal film debut. Yet despite that complete lack of experience, the head of RKO Pictures, George Schaefer, handed over the final cut and near unconditional creative control. The fledgling director earned such rare autonomy, thanks to his “War of the World” radio broadcast that nearly caused a national frenzy. Gracing the cover of Time Magazine at the age of 23 probably didn’t hurt either.
Orson Welles directing a scene. (Photo via John Kobal Foundation/Getty Images)
Script Collaboration
Thanks to his larger-than-life personality, Welles received most of the credit for the movie’s screenplay. Nevertheless, it started as “American” by Herman J. Mankiewicz before the uncredited “Wizard of Oz” contributor penned the first two drafts of “Citizen Kane!”
They both then collaborated on the final draft. Likely unbeknownst to Mankiewicz, a contract stipulation allowed the studio to omit his name from production. The troubled writer did receive his Academy Award, thanks to an obscure Screen Writers Guild rule.
Orson Welles was only 25 years old when he directed, co-wrote, starred in the film
Creative Freedom
In a role reversal, cinematographer Gregg Toland actually approached Welles for “Citizen Kane.” Reportedly, the man in charge responded with “I don’t know anything about movies.” Apparently, that was music to Toland’s ears who happily replied, “That’s why I want to do it, because I think if you’re left alone as much as possible, we’re going to have a movie that looks different. I’m tired of working with people who know too much about it.”
Citizen Kane premiere New York Palace Theatre. hollywoodhistoricphotos
Revolutionary Filmmaking
Side by side the duo meshed Welle’s creativity with Toland’s know-how to create unseen before techniques. The fear of failure often paralyzes many artists. Welles later described how their lack of fear set them apart, “In this case, I had a cameraman who didn’t care if he was criticized if he failed, and I didn’t know that there were things you couldn’t do. So anything that I could think up in my dreams, I attempted to photograph.”
Toland altered his cameras and lenses for the film’s famous “deep focus” shots while also creating composite shots that blew minds in 1941. They invented new microphone placement techniques and cut holes in floors to introduce new low-angled perspectives. As if that wasn’t enough innovation, Welles bypassed union make-up artists to spot floor sweeper Maurice Seiderman’s experimental latex effects. Her cutting-edge ingenuity eventually became standard behind-the-scenes magic.
Many consider "Citizen Kane" the best movie ever made.
Heart & Soul
Welles’ obviously received plenty of assistance in creating his masterpiece but the man poured his entire being into every aspect of production. During filming, he bloodied his hand and badly sprained his ankle enough to be forced to direct from a wheelchair. He suffered from caffeine poisoning, drinking more than 30 cups of coffee a day. When he attempted to change to tea, it changed his skin color.
Amid his impossible workload, Welles even managed to bamboozle executives. He assured them that the “News of the World” newsreel sequences were just “tests.” And when the anxious bean-counters came sniffing around, Welles actually entertained them like children with magic tricks until they left. Seiderman reported that during these visits Welles told them “Don’t do anything. Smoke cigarettes and talk.” Assistant Reginald Armour backed that up saying, “He would invite us over but he’d keep us outside the screening and then do tricks and stuff to amuse us.”
