The myth of "Citizen Kane" outruns the reality in this snazzy, highly fictionalized presentation of the origination of, and subsequent fallout from, Orson Welles' cinematic triumph.
When we first see young Orson, he is lighting his own birthday candle, at a party consisting of himself and his bedridden mother. "You were made for the light," she tells him. Becoming a young man, Welles (Liev Schreiber) lands in Hollywood with a film contract and a reputation as a "boy genius" with no film to his credit. Orson casts about for a film to launch him properly, and finds it at the mansion of the crusty plutocratic publisher William Randolph Hearst (James Cromwell) and his mistress Marion Davies (Melanie Griffith).
Welles played fast and loose with the truth in his lifetime. So does "RKO 281." In "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," director John Ford famously had a scene where the facts of a case are disregarded so a newspaper can "print the legend." Welles was a student of Ford's, as "RKO 281" reminds us, and we get similarly legendary moments here presented as life.
Welles and Hearst clash memorably in a couple of chance meetings. Hollywood executives are threatened by Hearst into trying to buy "Citizen Kane" in order to destroy it unseen. The mysterious death of Thomas Ince is revealed to be a murder showing the extent of Hearst's dangerousness and pull.
All of this is at best speculation and more likely hyperbole of the kind that Welles himself trafficked. "RKO 281" thus obscures the real historic record, but director Benjamin Ross and writer John Logan do so with a verve that makes it work. "Take my hand, Menk," we hear Welles tell screenwriter Joseph Menkiewicz (John Malkovich), just after pushing the guy into a pool. "We'll make history!"
Schreiber doesn't look or sound much like Welles, but he has the right presence for the role and I enjoyed his performance. Nobody really convinces, yet everyone does well with their off-center parts, especially Griffith. She has the toughest role, playing Davies in the same brassy way Dorothy Comingore portrayed her counterpart Susan Alexander in "Citizen Kane" but as a completely different person than Susan Alexander was, someone who is sincerely devoted to her rich lover. Also ironic is Cromwell, effectively nasty yet more sympathetic as a foil than Welles is as protagonist. In a film celebrating Welles' genius, it's notable the uptight Hearst gets the better of Welles in their exchanges.
"Men like Hearst don't love," Welles sneers, blind to the fact its Hearst's love for Davies rather than his pride in his wealth and fame that fuels the old man's rage against his picture.
I enjoyed the way "RKO 281" plays with your rooting interest and sends up the old-Hollywood style of Welles' day. It doesn't feel real, but it entertains, and at 90 minutes doesn't waste your time about it. That's the kind of Hollywood production everyone can enjoy.
When we first see young Orson, he is lighting his own birthday candle, at a party consisting of himself and his bedridden mother. "You were made for the light," she tells him. Becoming a young man, Welles (Liev Schreiber) lands in Hollywood with a film contract and a reputation as a "boy genius" with no film to his credit. Orson casts about for a film to launch him properly, and finds it at the mansion of the crusty plutocratic publisher William Randolph Hearst (James Cromwell) and his mistress Marion Davies (Melanie Griffith).
Welles played fast and loose with the truth in his lifetime. So does "RKO 281." In "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," director John Ford famously had a scene where the facts of a case are disregarded so a newspaper can "print the legend." Welles was a student of Ford's, as "RKO 281" reminds us, and we get similarly legendary moments here presented as life.
Welles and Hearst clash memorably in a couple of chance meetings. Hollywood executives are threatened by Hearst into trying to buy "Citizen Kane" in order to destroy it unseen. The mysterious death of Thomas Ince is revealed to be a murder showing the extent of Hearst's dangerousness and pull.
All of this is at best speculation and more likely hyperbole of the kind that Welles himself trafficked. "RKO 281" thus obscures the real historic record, but director Benjamin Ross and writer John Logan do so with a verve that makes it work. "Take my hand, Menk," we hear Welles tell screenwriter Joseph Menkiewicz (John Malkovich), just after pushing the guy into a pool. "We'll make history!"
Schreiber doesn't look or sound much like Welles, but he has the right presence for the role and I enjoyed his performance. Nobody really convinces, yet everyone does well with their off-center parts, especially Griffith. She has the toughest role, playing Davies in the same brassy way Dorothy Comingore portrayed her counterpart Susan Alexander in "Citizen Kane" but as a completely different person than Susan Alexander was, someone who is sincerely devoted to her rich lover. Also ironic is Cromwell, effectively nasty yet more sympathetic as a foil than Welles is as protagonist. In a film celebrating Welles' genius, it's notable the uptight Hearst gets the better of Welles in their exchanges.
"Men like Hearst don't love," Welles sneers, blind to the fact its Hearst's love for Davies rather than his pride in his wealth and fame that fuels the old man's rage against his picture.
I enjoyed the way "RKO 281" plays with your rooting interest and sends up the old-Hollywood style of Welles' day. It doesn't feel real, but it entertains, and at 90 minutes doesn't waste your time about it. That's the kind of Hollywood production everyone can enjoy.