Review of The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) by Jeff B — 14 May 2015

Remarkable and stirring even in the long shadow cast by its predecessor, The Magnificent Ambersons might fall short of writer-director-harshest critic Orson Welles high expectations but it still pains a fascinating portrait of love and loss. 2015 markw what would've been Orson Welles' 100th birthday. His fellow filmmaker and friend Peter Bogdonavich once smartly pointed out that, if his CV got reversed, his career would prove to be the most successful of all time. Think about it: voicing a planet gobbling machination in Transformers: The Movie through writing-directing film noir classic Touch of Evil to auteuring his cinematic masterpiece, Citizen Kane. His Kane follow-up, however (long unavailable on DVD and finally released in conjunction with Kanes 70th anniversary in 2011), also proves to be a master stroke worthy of a viewing during this, his centennial week. Welles himself decried the studio's final cut of his adaptation of Booth Tarkington's 1918 novel about the spoiled heir of a prominent turn-of-the-19th-century family. Reportedly at the studios insistence, his assistant director, Robert Wise (who would go on to direct The Sound of Music and Star Trek: The Motion Picture), re-ordered Welles narrative and edited out the original ending (forever lost, much to the chagrin of film historians). What remains, however, still proves nothing short of one of the Golden Age of HWoods most beautiful productions. If Welles never made Kane, this film would doubtlessly be hold up as an auspicious debut.

In this unrated drama, the spoiled young heir to the decaying Amberson fortune (Cotten) comes between his widowed mother and the man she has always loved.

Everything that makes Kane so indelible gets enhanced here. And yet, the style and storytelling couldnt be more different. Having cut his teeth on that particular gem, Welles imbues this nostalgic love letter to the Age of Innocence getting lost amid 20th century technology (the automobile makes a perfect foil here) with breathtaking blurred edge cinematography. The deep focus photography evokes an almost sepia tone feel that makes the Currier and Ives-style Midwest winters feel tangible. The set design and Welles amazing stable of actors (most of them Mercury Players returning from Kane) complete the job, giving heart and hearth to what amounts to an incredible character piece. Indeed, Agnes Moorehead was robbed of a Best Supporting Oscar. Of course, the central character grows up and remains unlikable but thats how Tarkington presented the privileged rascal, silver spoon warts and all (surely, Welles stayed behind the camera because in not also portraying him the wunderkind identifies with the protagonist). And sure, Welles was right, the editing gives the uneven unfolding of story a sometimes clunky exposition (just check out that party scene), but Ambersons nonetheless nearly perfectly sums up the emotional groundswell that rises up from any senior who utters In my day in sad reverence to a simpler time lost amid the hubbub of life. In an age when most everybody whiles away their hours in the glow of a smart device as life passes them by, this Magnificent film perhaps makes more sense than ever. Theres no denying that the tacked-on ending proves that Ambersons remains well short of perfection but such is film history. Shoulda coulda woulda. We may never have Welles definitive version, so hold fast to whats endearing here.

Bottom line: Citizen Vain.