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♪ ♪

Woman: Orson?

Come into the light.

Never stand in the shadows.

You were made for the light.

Always remember that.

Now turn around and make a wish.

Go on.

You must blow out your candles.

One breath now.

That's all you get-- one chance.

Are you ready?

Now.

♪ ♪

Newsreel: He came to the town of magic and dreams,

a flashing star, blazing through the firmament of illusion.

He was 24 years old and his name was Orson Welles.

Sound the trumpets, unfurl the banners, Hollywood,

the boy wonder has arrived.

May 6th, 1915, the prodigy makes his debut

on the world stage in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

May 7th, he speaks his first words, and they are

"I am a genius."

Subsequent developments confirm this opinion.

At 18 he goes to New York, the cauldron of the world.

Watch out, cauldron. Orson has arrived.

Like Hannibal over the Alps,

the boy genius invades the Great White Way

with production after production.

And then he takes to the airwaves--

step two in his plan for global domination.

Orson on radio broadcast: This is the end now.

They're running toward the East River.

Thousands of them, dropping in like rats.

Newsreel: "The War of the Worlds" broadcast

sends this nation spinning into a frenzy.

Yes, the boy wonder has fooled us all.

We had no idea any of this was happening.

I-I--

I feel just horrible.

Mr. Welles, can you come over here. Mr. Welles!

Mr. Welles, over here!

How long can it possibly be before the sunny land of dreams

tries to harness the combustible power

of this showman extraordinaire?

The winner in the Welles derby is George Schaefer,

the head of RKO Pictures.

With a contract unimaginable before the days of Orson,

Mr. Schaefer captures the whirlwind, snares the beast.

( flashbulb pops )

Eyebrows raise and jaws drop

when terms of the deal come forth.

The boy wonder can write, direct and star in his own projects.

The studio? Well, they just pay the bills. Oh!

( laughs )

So cometh Orson.

He met the biggest of the big

and charmed his way through the town.

From the Brown Derby to the Copacabana,

from Louella Parsons to Hedda Hopper--

those rival maidens of Hollywood gossip.

And so today, almost a year after his arrival,

we leave the boy wonder still hard at work

developing his much-anticipated first feature.

We're waiting, Orson. ( slams )

Genius? Who does that cocksucker think he is?

Word is glory boy's all finished, Mr. Mayer.

Can't come up with a movie.

They're laying bets over at RKO

this deal ends up with him never doing a picture. Huh.

Back to New York he goes. Yeah.

After RKO boots him, let's pick him up cheap.

Have him do that "War of the Worlds" crap as a feature.

( men laugh ) It's money in the bank for us

and bingo, no more genius.

Man: This is Hollywood, junior. What did you expect?

And you keep coming up with the same elitist crap.

Enough, Mank.

God, I've heard this from Schaefer

and everyone else at RKO. I don't need to hear it from you.

"Heart of Darkness," million-dollar budget.

No one wants to see that. That's nonsense and you know it.

Orson, what do you think movies are about? Don't start this, Mank, please.

No, I'm interested. What do you think movies are about?

Life's rich pageant.

Life's rich pageant, my ass.

People are sick to death of life.

They want make-believe.

Okay? They want Tarzan and Jane,

not "Tristan and Isolde."

You know what they want, Mank?

Magic.

Mank: You know what your job is in Hollywood?

Put butts in seats.

Let me see that.

It's all about selling popcorn and Pepsi-Colas.

Not for me it isn't.

Then you're about to become the youngest never-was

in the history of Hollywood.

Better than the oldest has-been. Is it?

Okay, Mank.

What are we going to write? I don't know. You tell me.

You're the boy wonder.

Well?

Jesus Christ. Come on.

The old man doesn't cotton to lateness.

( door opens )

Good evening, Mr. Hearst.

My name is Orson Welles.

Orson!

♪ ♪

Woman: So we set traps everywhere, right?

And every morning, the traps would be sprung

but there would be no mice.

What? Woman: So one night I noticed

Pops here getting out of bed--

I've got it: "Sigmund Freud: Life and Times."

Oh, that's a great idea.

Just got your ass kicked on Joseph Conrad

and now it's the id and the superego.

I'll be goddamned if he isn't springing the traps

and leaving cheese for the goddamn mice.

You-- you and that guy Disney,

in love with the damn rats.

Okay then-- Manolete.

Who?

Manolete, the great Spanish bullfighter.

Imagine Clark here in a glittering suit of lights...

on the Andalusian plains.

Mr. Welles is attempting semaphore.

Bullfighting, Miss Davies.

Oh. Is dear Mank your bull?

My factotum, comrade-in-arms, ally.

Flunky, pimp.

Writer. That too.

You fight many bulls there in New York, Orson?

Orson: No, when I was a tender lad,

my father and I made a tour of the grand boulevards of Europe.

When we were in Spain I had the good fortune

to sit at the knee of Manolete,

the greatest bullfighter of the age.

"What is the matador's greatest enemy?" he asked me.

And of course I naively responded, "The bull."

No, the bull is merely his adversary.

His greatest enemy is his own fear.

You see, to kill the bull,

one must first learn to think like him.

Having said that, he strode forth

gallantly into the ring. He flourished.

Flourished again. Suddenly the bull charged.

It thundered towards him, its calamitous hooves

shaking the earth beneath Manolete's feet.

And as it was almost upon him, he stepped to the side,

flourished again and struck.

And when the dust cleared...

the sword was gone.

Vanished in the bloody eye of the beast.

( soft chuckle )

( applause )

That is barbaric.

Of all man's sadism...

none is more depraved than his cruelty to animals.

Oh.

In Spain, sir, the cruelty would be

in denying the beast a fighting end...

as in your magnificent zoo, for instance.

And who are you, sir?

Orson Welles, sir.

Ah, the actor.

Mmm. And director.

Hearst: I wish you luck.

In Hollywood,

the bull and the matador are both slaughtered.

Why the crack about the zoo? ♪ ♪

Why not just let it lie?

Because he's a hypocrite, Mank. Yeah, so what?

Listen, I like to come here. I want to be asked back.

Why? You have no place here.

Because Marion's my friend.

Did you hear what he said to me?

Preaching against man's cruelty to animals?

I mean, come on. Listen, come here.

I want to show you something.

( chattering )

Mank: The old man owns

the biggest publishing empire in the world.

When you have all that,

you can preach whatever you want.

Like appeasing Hitler.

A lot of people agree with him, Orson.

He tells them what they want to hear.

As if that was something to be proud of.

Can't smoke here.

Of course. How could I forget?

No smoking, no drinking...

no moral vices whatsoever.

I suppose keeping an alcoholic mistress

half your age is considered a virtue here.

Mank: The old man has

his own way of doing things.

I'll say.

( giggles ) ( gasps )

Ah.

Oh God, these parties are awful.

( chuckles ) You need to get out of here, Rapunzel.

That's why he has the parties.

He says it's like bringing the world to me.

But it's not so bad here.

I mean, what girl doesn't want to live in a castle?

( chuckles ) Hey, Mr. Welles certainly is a caution, isn't he?

And attractive, in a... hammy sort of way.

Listen. Why don't you come down

and stay with us for a few days?

Just tell the old man--

He needs me here.

( drawer closes ) ♪ ♪

So how big is this monstrosity? The estate?

Half the size of Rhode Island. You're kidding me.

No. It's the place God would have built

if he'd had the money. Hello.

Manky. ♪ ♪

Will you dance with me?

I'll dance with you. Oh good. Thank you.

Ooh. You've been naughty. Can you smell it?

So are you ever gonna do a picture?

Oh God, not you too, Carole. ( clicks tongue )

It's gonna be fine, Orson.

You're gonna do just great.

Carole: You're just scared.

Am I? Mm-hmm.

Hmm.

And what am I scared of, Carole?

Of being found out.

Of not being a genius.

God damn it, Pops. You gotta do something.

There's no need for that kind of language. God damn it.

Orson. Hmm?

You missed the beat.

♪ ♪

( zoo animal noises )

( jazz music playing )

( music playing louder )

Marion: Oh! ( laughing )

( Hearst laughs )

Orson: I've got it. I know what we're going to do.

Imagine a man who has shaped his time.

A titanic figure of limitless ambition.

A man with an empire at his feet,

controlling the perceptions of everyone beneath him.

A modern feudal lord.

The great American biography,

a journey into the heart of the beast.

Oh no. Don't you see it?

He spent a lifetime making entertainment out of other people's lives,

and now we turn the tables on him.

It's perfect! It's perfectly suicidal.

How long have I been looking for the answer

when all this time it's been right here under my nose?

Every day in the newspapers, on the radio,

waiting for us in that ridiculous castle.

Orson, stop stop. Waiting to be-- I've talked to Arnie.

He says it's all right.

He says he's a public figure

who sought out that publicity, so legally he can't--

Listen to me, you child.

He doesn't worry about legalities. Do you know why?

Because he has more power than you could even begin to imagine.

All the more reason to do it!

'Cause he insulted you at a dinner party?

Because he's a hypocrite.

Because he's a political turncoat.

He claims to care about the common man

when nothing could be further from the truth.

Well, he's a journalist. He owns Hollywood.

We're the shit on his shoes.

You better go back to Broadway, kiddo.

I expected more from you, Mank.

Yeah, me too, but I got used to it.

How does that feel, getting used to it?

How does that feel, going up to the palace

and amusing all the lords and ladies with the same old stories

they've heard a hundred times before?

How does it feel being the ugly little monkey

they keep around to amuse themselves?

I remember a man who wrote,

a writer who dazzled me with his wit and insight

who hasn't had a credit in four years

because he's been so furiously busy

wasting himself amusing his keepers,

because he's a sycophant

and because he's been thrown out of every studio in Hollywood

and no one will hire him because he's a drunk.

Which reminds me-- I'm sorry, Mank,

you must be thirsty. Here. Have another.

I wouldn't want to stand in the way of progress.

Do you honestly expect me to believe you care about me?

You don't give a fuck about anyone but yourself.

Hearst was right about you. You're just another goddamn actor.

( gasps )

Mank, I'm sorry.

Orson, I don't have it in me anymore.

I used to have dreams too, but that's over now.

It doesn't have to be. It is.

No studio would hire me. I'll hire you.

I just know this is the story. Everything in my life--

all the potential, all the promise--

has led to this moment, to right now, to you and me.

Orson...

he will destroy us.

Take my hand, Mank.

We'll make history.

We'll scorch the earth. We will astonish them all.

♪ ♪

Mank: Notes for a novel. My great modern tragedy...

on Hearst. You're joking.

I guess great minds think alike, kid.

You've never told me about this before.

I haven't even looked at it in 10 years.

More importantly, I never showed it to anyone else.

You know why? Because I wanna go on living.

Time to let go of that ambition, old boy.

♪ ♪

"Rosebud." ( laughs )

What?

"Marion told Carole Lombard

that the old man's pet name for it is 'Rosebud.'"

My God, Mank.

He has a pet name for her pussy

and you never told me? Orson, you can't do a picture

where you have a pet name for a pussy.

In fact, you can't do a picture where you have any name for a pussy.

Oh, I think we can find a way.

You just don't get it, do you?

Wh-why do you think I scrapped all this stuff?

You can't scrap this. It's too good.

This is gold, Mank. Gold. You want gold?

I'll give you some gold. This is a story

you won't find written down in there

or anywhere else for that matter.

It's 1924 or so... ( sniffs )

and Hearst is giving a birthday party

for an old Hollywood producer called Thomas Ince...

on his yacht.

♪ ♪ And all the usuals are there

Charlie Chaplin, Louella, et cetera.

And at this time Marion was screwing everyone,

and so she slips off with Chaplin.

( ice clinks ) Hearst sees this.

He goes absolutely nuts.

He's there on the deck with a revolver,

just blasting away like Tom Mix.

And he hits Thomas Ince right in the chest and he is dead.

Dead.

The empire snaps into action.

Ince is cremated lickety-split.

No police. No inquest.

The Hearst papers cover it up nice and quiet.

The next morning, Hearst offers Louella

a lifetime contract

to keep her all hush-hush.

Now you tell me.

You still want to take a shaft to a man like that?

Are you kidding me?

More than ever.

It's supposed to be Siam. ( giggles )

Some kind of Balinese temple.

Does it look like a temple to you?

( clock chiming ) Hmm.

Marion, I've spoken to Millicent.

She said no...

again.

( scoffs )

She believes it would put her soul in peril.

Divorce is a very serious sin, evidently.

It's bullshit. It's bullshit.

She just cares about the money, you know?

She thinks that I'll make you cut her out of the will.

I do wish you wouldn't use that language.

Orson: He's a monster, Mank, an unfeeling monster,

like all great men. Yeah, but how do we dramatize that?

Say we say there was a time when he was innocent.

There was a time when he-- when he lost something.

( bird squawking )

Something he loved?

( waves lapping ) Hmm.

You're off there. Men like Hearst don't love.

All men love, Orson, or have loved.

What about Marion?

She's just another piece in his collection.

Hmm? She's just like one of the animals in his zoo.

To Hearst, that is love. "I love you.

I built you a beautiful cage." ( chuckles )

It's...

love on his own terms.

♪ ♪

No?

Love on your own terms.

Those are the only terms anybody ever knows.

There's your tragedy.

( birds chirping )

( door closes )

Orson.

I'm in.

What? I'll write it.

Mank, that is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me.

I'll call George. I'll get a secretary. ♪ ♪

No, I'll get two secretaries. We can get Houseman.

Don't just sit there. Start writing!

Orson, I just wanna know when I'm gonna see a script.

Orson on phone: How about a month? Is that acceptable?

Acceptable? No.

Anything more than three weeks is totally unacceptable.

All right, then fine. What do you want me to do? I've got New York on the phone.

I've got a fiscal quarter. I've got Mank and Houseman writing already.

Who? Mankiewicz. Herman Mankiewicz.

Mank? ( laughs )

That'd be a goddamn miracle.

( typewriter clicking )

"A toast then, Jedediah, to love on my own terms,

because those are the only terms

anybody has ever known-- his own."

Telegram from the Christ child.

"Schaefer loves the idea. Stop.

Keep writing. Stop. Stop drinking. Stop.

Did you work in the jigsaw puzzles? Question mark.

Don't stop. Stop. Love you madly, Orson."

Asshole. Stop.

( bangs ) ( clanging ) ( bell clanging )

( steam whistle toots ) ♪ ♪

Orson: So Gregg Toland plunks his Oscar down

for "Wuthering Heights" and says, "Mr. Welles,

I want to shoot your picture." "Mr. Toland," I said,

"you are the finest cinematographer in Hollywood.

Why would you want to work with a stumbling neophyte?"

( chuckles ) "Mr. Welles," he replied,

"the only way to learn anything new is to work

with someone who doesn't know a damn thing."

Priceless.

Orson: The whole point, Hedda, is to use

the language of cinema as though it's never been spoken before,

to challenge the audience. ♪ ♪

Why does anyone go to the movies in the first place?

To see themselves. To see their own...

bizarre, complex, fascinating and paradoxical lives--

Orson, talk English, will you?

Orson: The most powerful narrative tool ever invented

and it's fallen into the hands of bankers.

Come on, Louella. There's got to be something

more to movies than money. I'll give you an example.

What's your favorite picture?

"Gold Diggers of 1933."

Orson: So that the transition is somehow less painful

as the audience leaves the theater and returns to reality.

They feel as if their own lives have been touched upon,

that they have been given--

well, at least a rendition of the truth.

That finally they have been treated with-- Orson.

This is all terribly interesting,

but what's all this I hear about you and Dolores del Rio?

( chuckles )

Now, Orson, you know

I'm just dying to see your picture

and I know it's gonna be boffo.

But the story's about a publisher, right?

You're not doing Hearst, are you?

( laughs ) Good God no. No no.

Our character is more an amalgam really.

Look into my eyes and tell me you're not doing Hearst.

I'm not doing Hearst.

( typewriter clicking )

Well? ( lighter flicks )

It's too long.

Oh. Well, talk to Houseman.

He's the one who wanted wide margins.

The flashback scheme isn't working.

And you have to keep Susan and Leland separate at the end,

otherwise there's no sense of time lapse.

If you do that, then the logic breaks down,

because-- Look, Mank. It's a brilliant script.

No question. Absolutely brilliant.

It just-- it needs some shaping, that's all.

Yeah. Sure.

We should celebrate. Drinks, Housey.

I still have three weeks left on my contract.

If you prepare some notes, I'll do the revisions.

I don't have three weeks. Schaefer wants it yesterday.

I'll send you the revisions. Oh and, Mank,

we need to change the name. Wha-- what?

The title? No no, it's a grand title.

"American." I was thinking more the character name.

"Charles Foster Craig" doesn't...

have the knives-out poetry I was looking for. Okay.

I was thinking of Kane.

As in Abel?

K-A-N-E.

One strong syllable, "Kane."

"Craig" is one syllable.

Yes, but it's not a great syllable.

Thanks, Housey.

No, I haven't been drinking since I started this.

To my invaluable comrades.

Goodbye. ( door closes )

( phone ringing ) "American"?

It's an awful title, of course, but I--

can't think of anything better.

Someone came up with "A Sea of Upturned Faces"...

( chuckles ) which has a nice, sort of operatic ring to it.

I thought of "John Citizen, USA,"

but that struck me as a bit Warner Brothers

or God forbid-- Capra-esque. ( groans )

"Citizen." What?

"Citizen Kane."

That's your title. "Citizen Kane."

A "Z" and a "K."

It wouldn't look half bad on a poster, would it?

Don't get too far ahead of yourself. These budget projections--

I know, I know. I don't know what you want me to do.

I've already cut the script down to the bone. Listen to me,

and don't throw a fit.

I want you to seriously think about doing

"War of the Worlds." Oh God, George, please, no.

Do "War of the Worlds" as a feature

and everybody'll be happy. Don't ask me to do this.

You're a 24-year-old novice director.

This is difficult material, maybe impossible.

And old man Hearst is gonna come down on us with all he's got.

Think of the free publicity. Oh please.

Look, George, every idea has its moment.

This one is right now. If it's half as good as I think it is--

It's not a matter of good or bad. At the end of the day--

Why did you go into this business, George?

Why? ( sighs )

Wasn't there a time when making pictures meant something to you,

that it mattered just a little bit,

that they were worth taking risks for?

( sighs )

George, If you look into my eyes right now

and tell me to go make "War of the Worlds,"

I will. I'll make it.

And yes, it'll make you money,

and I honestly-- ( exhales sharply )

I can't think of a reason why you should let me make this picture

except that you should.

You know, I'd do anything

to get you the hell out of my office.

( sighs ) ( pen scratches )

Here. Go make the goddamn picture.

( Native Americans whooping ) ♪ ♪

All right. Tracking.

Medium shot, close-up.

Reverse.

Medium shot.

( horse neighs ) Reverse. What lens is that?

24. Open aperture.

We used it on "Long Voyage."

Could you run that reel again, Frank?

♪ ♪

( chattering )

That's the one there.

I'm not sure, Mr. Welles. I'll try.

Yeah, Mr. Welles.

( gunfire on film ) ( Native Americans whooping )

You fuck.

You selfish fuck.

A studio pal-- if that's not an oxymoron-- sent it to me.

I thought we did it together, Orson.

I thought it was the two of us,

but, you see,

"Citizen Kane" by Orson Welles.

You took my name off the fucking script?

It's a mistake. Some steno girl obviously made a mistake.

You took my name off the script?

You can't do that, Orson. ♪ ♪

I fucking-well can. I own your goddamn script,

and I can do anything I want.

Don't you forget for one minute that I took

your 350 pages of drunken rambling

and made a movie out of them.

And now I've got to shoot the son of a bitch,

so thank you. Thank you very much, but I have all I need.

And stop calling me.

Orson: Today...

( chuckles )

( clears throat )

Today we are beginning a great adventure.

Together, we're going to tell a story

that I think is of some importance.

Now... I won't lie to you.

I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

( laughter ) Every one of you

has had more time on a soundstage than I have.

Every one of you knows your job

and I, of course, am still learning mine.

I ask for your patience and your help.

And I ask for one other thing. That you...

allow yourselves to get a little lost with me...

to travel into the dark wood of uncertainty,

to take a few wrong turns.

Because along the way, I--

I think we just might discover something amazing together.

That's swell, Orson.

Now where do you want to put the camera?

( laughter ) ♪ ♪

It's a director's contract.

Why the hell did you sign this?

This is a suicide note, George.

The bastard's got us by the balls.

I trust him, Harry, deep down.

Have you seen 24? Yeah, I've never seen 24.

I've never seen anything like 24. I don't believe it.

What?

He shot three scenes, two with dialogue,

when he was only supposed to be doing camera tests.

George, the man is obviously an anarchist.

Yeah...

who's two days ahead of schedule.

Son of a bitch. 281.

( chattering )

I need you to look at the camera, right into the lens.

Don't take your eyes off it till I yell, "Cut."

Thank you, darling. The lines aren't important right now. You sit right here.

See if you can get your-- sorry, sir. She's fine, thank you!

You just look right into the camera and you'll be fine.

All right? Great.

I still think we should under-crank and play it backwards.

When I want your opinion, Gregg, I'll ask for it.

Collaboration, Orson. Make it fast, Andy!

Orson. Call it, Kit. Kit: Roll camera!

And action!

( gasps ) Oh!

( people gasp, murmur )

( claps ) Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

That was terrific. Wonderful, Dot, really.

Really wonderful. Top-notch.

Ahem.

On the next one, maybe you could close your mouth a little bit.

We can go for a slightly more subtle version.

Well done though. ( pats )

Right. Well...

( clears throat )

Obviously, we need to go again.

( chuckles ) I'll... ♪ ♪

be in makeup.

Orson, you cannot just destroy a camera, for Christ's sakes.

Do you have any idea what these things cost?

I know, George. I feel terrible about it.

How about this one, Mr. Welles? That with a black tie.

Coming through. We borrowed one from next door.

Well, stole it really,

but I don't think they'll notice till Monday.

Look, I need-- Perhaps this, Mr. Welles?

Try it with the other one. I'm sorry.

I need Agnes for another day.

Do you think you could fix it for me?

Good. Look, thanks, George. I've got to run, okay?

Gregg!

( sighs ) What?

( camera whirring )

Orson: Action. Rosebud?

I'll tell you about Rosebud.

Cut. Let's go again.

Action. Rosebud?

( mutters ) Shit. Orson: Keep rolling.

Rosebud?

I'll tell you about Rosebud.

Cut. Again.

♪ ♪

George: Orson, you cannot shoot 56 takes of one line.

It's the climax of the picture, George.

Don't you see? The audience has been waiting

for two hours to find out what Rosebud is.

If they don't believe they're about to,

we've let them down. The trick doesn't work.

The whole picture depends on it! Orson, it's one line.

Cut, print, end of story.

♪ ♪

Joe: Drunk. What do you care?

You don't care about anything except you.

You just want to persuade people that you love 'em so much

that they ought to love you back.

Only you want love on your own terms.

Orson?

You want to cut?

No no. No no no, keep rolling.

Right. Sorry, Joe.

Anywhere in your speech.

Ready?

Action.

( clears throat )

Drunk. What do you care?

Orson: And I'm looking at them, and...

( sighs ) they're looking back at me

waiting for something brilliant.

( chuckles ) They ought to love you back.

The only thing is, so am I.

Waiting for some moment of inspiration

that'll finally convince them all that I'm worth

all the time and trouble and money they've invested in me.

But I'm not, am I, Mank?

I'm just a fraud who couldn't care less about anyone except himself.

Isn't that right?

I don't know, Orson. Is that what you think?

I don't know what I think.

That's the problem.

I just know that I miss you and...

( sighs )

I was wondering if you might consider coming back.

First you wanted me out. I'm out.

( clears throat )

I'm sorry.

This is the shooting script we've been using every day.

I just-- I thought you'd like to see it.

♪ ♪

Did I ever tell you about my father?

He was a drunk, my dad.

When my mother died, I was obliged to accompany him

on his business trips-- Europe, China.

I suppose in one sense it was a way of seeing the world.

Richard Head Welles and his amazing boy genius.

But he would drink, and it would get embarrassing

and well, I-- I began to resent him

because I was so sparkling, you see.

So when we got home and I went off to school,

I... decided to cut him off.

I turned my back on him because...

( clears throat ) I couldn't have him

getting in the way of my genius.

He would write me letters that I would never answer.

He would call me and I would ignore his calls.

When he eventually visited me at school,

I would manage to find myself

conveniently indisposed.

When I finally did see him again, he was in a coffin.

I was 15.

And...

all of a sudden, he wasn't the--

the embarrassing drunk anymore.

He was my father.

He was the man who showed me the world.

Have you shot the beach scene yet?

No. Good.

It occurred to me the other day

that we're starting that scene completely incorrectly.

We should-- no, we should...

( continues speaking ) ♪ ♪

Gregg: Closer.

Closer. Stop.

Can you see my shoes?

Yeah, but we lose your head.

Joe! Do me a favor and stand in here, will you?

Look, Gregg, it has to be lower.

( breathing heavily ) This is "the" scene. We have to look up

at these two men as pillars soaring to the sky,

towering virtues in combat--

Orson! We've been through this.

We can't get the camera any lower,

so find another goddamn shot!

( people shout ) Orson, what the fuck are you doing?

♪ ♪ Looks like he's tearing out the floor.

It's 4:00 in the goddamn morning.

My favorite time of day, Gregg.

Orson as Kane: I've set back the sacred cause of reform, is that it?

( chuckles )

All right.

If that's the way they want it.

People have made their choice.

It's obvious the people prefer Jim Gettys to me.

You talk about the people as though you own them,

as though they belong to you.

Orson, I'm so goddamn tired.

( snaps fingers ) Keep rolling, Gregg. I can't remember the lines.

For Christ's sake. Come on, Joe.

You're drunk, you're angry. Now use it.

We're not all hopped up on Benzedrine, Orson.

Some of us humans need sleep.

That's good, Joe. Now give me the goddamn line.

I know you've been waiting for weeks to say something to me.

Don't tell me you've gone soft now.

You don't care about anything except you.

You just want to persuade people that you love 'em so much

that they ought to love you back.

Only you want love on your own terms.

A toast then, Jedediah...

to love on my own terms.

Those are the only terms anybody ever knows--

his own.

Cut. Print. ( snaps fingers )

What's next, Gregg? That's it, Orson. We're done.

What? We're done.

Well... ( clears throat )

( chuckles ) How about a real drink, then, hmm?

( laughter, chattering )

♪ ♪

( chattering )

Mr. Welles, compliments of Mr. Schaefer.

Daylight. Hey.

Oh! Oh!

♪ ♪ ( laughs )

Orson? Hedda here.

Orson on phone: Oh, Hedda, what a surprise. You naughty boy.

What? You told me that I would positively be

the first human soul to see your masterpiece

and here I read in the "Reporter"

there's a screening for the magazines tonight.

That's only a rough cut. Oh, rough cut.

( laughs ) ( Orson speaks indistinctly )

Been there, Orson, know the drill.

See you tonight. Hedda, Hedda, I--

Little prick.

This is awful. There's no music.

The sound isn't even synced. Relax.

They've all seen a rough cut before.

I know, but why Hedda, George? The magazines are one thing--

If Hedda says she's coming, you just mix up a batch of martinis and pray.

♪ ♪

What did that mean?

Oh, Mr. Hearst. Hearst: Yes?

Hello. I am so delighted you could take my call.

I just wanted to let you know

that I saw this Orson Welles picture last night.

First screening ever, don't you know?

And, Mr. Hearst, I just don't understand something.

I do not understand

why Louella has not told you

that it's all about you.

It's about me? Yes.

In detail? Yes.

Thank you for this information. No, it's my pleasure, sir.

( line disconnects )

( sighs ) ( intercom buzzes )

Yes?

Secretary: Mr. Schaefer, Miss Louella Parsons is here.

Here? As in right outside? Yes sir.

Tell her to wait a minute. Yes--

Shit.

( phone ringing )

Schaefer. Louella.

I gotta see this Welles picture.

I was just fixing something to drink.

You drink at 10:00 a.m.? No, I meant--

And I want to see the picture today.

Well, that may be a tad difficult.

Oh, cut the malarkey, buddy.

The boss himself wants me to see the picture today.

He asked you personally? That's right.

Hearst? Bingo. I'll be back at noon.

Oh joy.

Kane: You will continue with your singing, Susan.

I don't propose to have myself made ridiculous.

Susan: You don't propose to have yourself made ridiculous?

What about me?! I'm the one that's gotta do the singing!

I'm the one that gets the raspberries!

Why don't you let me alone?!

Louella: It's all you.

The war with Pulitzer, the castle, Marion.

Hearst: How so? ( sighs ) The jigsaw puzzles

and... the career.

The man spending a fortune to make her a star.

Only it's opera and not movies.

And... Yes?

...the drinking.

Go on. The whole picture's a mess.

Jumps all over the place. Very arty.

It's all built around this sled

called Rosebud that the guy had when he was a kid.

What did you say? ( laughs ) Yeah, that's the guy's last words.

They're about a sled he had as a kid called Rosebud.

Makes no sense at all.

Rosebud. ( chuckles ) Yeah.

So our life is the subject for mockery.

♪ ♪

All of it.

Every personal detail.

Thank you for your time.

Thank you, sir.

Miss Parsons.

I have one additional question for you.

Sir?

Why were we not informed of this sooner?

Sir?

I pay you a good deal of money

to be my eyes and ears in Hollywood,

do I not?

If you cannot provide this simple service,

then you are of no use to me.

But, sir-- Please be quiet.

This young man

has made a motion picture detailing my life.

This motion picture was made at a not-insignificant studio

and you knew nothing about it.

He lied to me. He looked me in the face

and told me it wasn't about you.

And how do you feel when you are lied to?

I want blood.

Good.

Retain that feeling.

Let it nourish you.

It shall nourish us both.

Randolph. Louie.

I hope you don't mind my popping in like this.

Not at all. Come on. Sit down.

What a wretched place this is.

I never come to town without feeling filthy.

You really must buy that piece of property

near the castle and come north.

I wish I could, but... business.

Which is why I'm here.

You've heard of this "Citizen Kane" picture?

Yeah. RKO. Mmm.

Evidently it details the exploits

of a newspaper publisher,

much like myself.

Entirely too much like myself.

No one wants their private life paraded about

for the curiosity of the moviegoing public...

if you catch my drift.

I don't see how the release of this picture

will do anyone any good really.

So sue him.

That's what I'd do.

Thank you, Louie.

I'll keep it in mind.

Say, while I'm in town,

why don't the two of us drop by the L.A. Country Club

and play 18 holes?

♪ ♪

Hmm?

Maybe we could get Mr. Warner to join us.

And Mr. Cohn,

and Mr. Selznick

and Mr. Goldwyn.

The club is restricted.

Oh, so it is.

( chuckles )

How silly of me.

I sometimes forget that you're all Jews.

Apparently quite a number of people forget

if they ever knew.

See what you can do about this "Citizen Kane" picture.

Will you, Louie?

Louella: That's right, fella.

♪ ♪ And Mr. Hearst has authorized me to tell you

that you're looking at the most beautiful lawsuit in history

if you release this picture.

He'll bleed your little studio dry,

and you can all go on back to New York

and do Shakespeare with the boy wonder.

Can I talk to Hearst? You are talking to him.

( clock chiming ) ( Hearst chuckles )

The "Journal" was particularly harsh on Roosevelt today.

Marion: You really oughta lay off him, Pops.

He is the president, you know.

He's a Bolshevik.

He'll have us at war with Germany within the year.

I think I'll run that picture of him in a wheelchair.

Please don't.

( door opens ) What do you think?

( laughs )

Sir? We got the call.

Mm-hmm?

Thank you, Joseph.

What is it, Pops? Nothing for you to worry about.

( door closes ) What is it?

The SEC has turned down my request

for relief on the debts.

How much?

It's not something-- How much?

$125 million.

We're $125 million in debt?

Yes.

Wow.

How does one get $125 million in debt?

One... buys things.

♪ ♪ Oh.

Orson: We open on Monument Valley.

Towering stalagmites reaching towards heaven.

We track in on a single solitary figure. ( taps quickly )

A quiet man. Come here.

A lonely man. Conductor: What did I tell you?

Who is he? ...but I want it cold.

I don't want a hot sound. No vibrato. No vibrato.

♪ ♪

You wanna do "The Life of Christ"?

You have to admit, it has a built-in audience, Gregg.

( chuckles ) We shoot it like a western--

vibrant, stark, modern.

All on location in the Mojave Desert.

Hey, Gregg. His next picture-- he wants to play Christ.

Yeah, I hope he's planning to start

with the crucifixion. You read Louella? ( taps quickly )

I am trying to work.

Sorry, Bernie, we'll take it outside.

It sounds wonderful.

( mouths )

So what am I today,

a puny upstart or a spoiled dilettante? ♪ ♪

It wouldn't be that. She probably can't spell "dilettante."

"And how is the country to feel when this industry

continues to employ bedraggled foreigners

and swarthy refugees instead of real Americans?

Doesn't Hollywood know there's a depression on?

Don't real Americans deserve work?"

At least she's off "Kane."

( chuckles ) Off "Kane"?

Orson, this is code language to the studio bosses.

"Bedraggled foreigners and swarthy refugees"?

Who the hell do you think that could be?

I don't know. Peter Lorre?

Who owns this town? Who runs every studio? Jews.

Okay, they're Jews. So what? They're Jews, just like you.

Just listen, you idiot. This is just the first shot.

The next time, she will actually use the "J" word

and the studio bosses will do anything

to keep that word from going into print.

And Hearst knows it. What are they gonna do, Mank?

Are they gonna kill me? Is that what you think?

Why don't you ask Thomas Ince that question?

Sorry, Mr. Welles, we need to be able to hear.

Orson. Orson.

He knows. Do you understand what that means?

That he knows? He knows. ( chuckles )

What are you afraid of, Mank? It's done, it's in the can.

There's nothing they can do. Yeah, and it will stay in the can.

That film will never come out.

Hearst will not allow it. The studio heads will not allow it.

That film will never see the light of day.

Are you on their side, Mank? What?

That's what it sounds like to me. Are you on their side?

( scoffs ) I mean, for Christ's sakes,

you wrote the goddamn script. You fought for the credit.

That's right, and I told you that this would happen, didn't I?

Didn't I tell you? Huh?

Right. Listen, I got my check. You got yours.

Let's move on. I will not move on!

Who are they, Mank?!

Who are these men that you're so afraid of?!

Who are these tiny little fucking men?!

They're accountants.

We're ready. You wanna hear it?

( classical score playing )

( music continues )

( sniffles )

Switch it off.

Switch it off! ( music stops )

( Marion crying )

( sobbing )

Would everybody please leave?

They got us, didn't they, Pops?

I mean, they nailed us, didn't they?

The crazy old man and his whore.

Marion. Bought and paid for

just like one of his goddamn statues.

At least in the movie, he marries her.

That picture-- I-I'm not that woman.

I know what I could've been

and I know what I gave up to be with you.

I mean, they've even got

the goddamn jigsaw puzzles in there, Pops.

Why? Why did they do that to us?

Why would they do that to us?

( whispers ) I don't know. I don't know.

Has he no idea of the power that controls him?

Get me Louella Parsons.

Now.

Fancies himself an artist. That's not art.

( phone dialing ) It's an abomination. The man's a charlatan,

a gossipmonger and a fraud. Miss Parsons, I have Mr. Hearst.

Miss Parsons.

♪ ♪ Use the file.

Louella: So what have we got here, L.B.?

We got faggots and commies and junkies.

We got movie stars screwing niggers and little girls.

We got Jews.

We got MGM, Warner Brothers,

Columbia, Disney and Fox.

We got Hollywood.

What do you want? Kill "Citizen Kane."

How? I don't give a shit.

Now, the boss has been working on some stuff,

and I've been working on some stuff.

Now I want all of you boys working on some stuff,

'cause if it looks like this movie is ever gonna come out,

I start running down the street with these pictures

like a screaming woman with her throat cut, you follow?

( whispering ) Joe, how bad is it?

Ms. Davies-- Come on, Joe, how bad is it?

( sighs )

It's bad.

( clock chiming )

I've been thinking about the "Examiner" in Chicago.

It's just not making any headway against the "Tribune."

Circulation is way down.

I think we should buy the "Tribune,"

eliminate the competition.

And I'm starting a campaign

against Mr. Welles and his tawdry little film.

( whispers ) Yeah.

Sure, Pops. Mmm.

What do you want me to do? I'm telling you,

no one's willing to open this movie.

So we open in Dallas and Detroit, Kalamazoo.

It doesn't matter. For God's sakes, George.

We could show it in a circus tent!

Come on, Orson. We have to go public.

If they see "Kane," he's exposed.

The film is our best defense!

If we get the press on our side-- He is the press!

God damn it.

George, wait.

George.

You don't understand that the stockholders

in New York are scared shitless.

We start a publicity campaign against Hearst now

and he'll destroy every RKO picture that's out there.

I'm about this far away from being fired myself,

and I'm the only friend you have in the world right now.

So you've got to trust that I'll do what I can. We have to fight them.

We have to go on the radio-- Radio? You think this is some kind of a fucking game?

Do you have any idea how many people RKO employs?

You wanna shoot yourself in the head,

you just go right ahead and do it. I can't stop you.

But you're not gonna drag this company down with you.

George, we need to make a statement.

We have to tell people what's he's trying to do.

There's not gonna be any statements!

I'm talking about jobs.

I'm talking about food on the table.

No, you're not. You're talking about

letting them bury my picture.

"My picture." "My picture."

I'm so sick and tired of hearing you say that.

It's my picture too.

It's his life. Did you ever think about that?

How can you defend him, George, after what he's done to us?

He's a monster. He's a soulless monster!

Oh, come on. Who are you kidding, kid?

Huh? You're the soulless monster!

George, please, no.

George, listen to me. Orson, Orson!

It's all I've got! Orson!

It's all I've got, George.

Whose fault is that?

Explain it to me then.

There is nothing to explain.

Millions of dollars a year on art and statues

and there's nothing to explain?

I will not defend my life to you.

I'm not asking you to defend anything, Pops,

but we are in a pickle here and we need to talk about it.

We are in no pickle, as you so euphemistically put it.

You gotta wake up now, Pops.

There is nothing more to discuss.

You don't have any money left, okay?

That's what no one else will tell you. You are broke.

You spent it all. You cannot buy the goddamn "Chicago Tribune."

You can't buy a goddamn thing.

You are being excessively theatrical, Marion.

As it just so happens, I need the "Tribune."

But that's just it. You don't need it. You don't need any of it.

I mean, that statue, for instance--

how much did that cost?

It's 17th century from Avignon. That's in France.

I know where fucking Avignon is, okay?

There is no need for you to use that kind of language with me.

Did you need it? Did you need any of it?

I wanted it.

And there is a difference between "want" and "need."

Not to me!

Why? Why? Just so you could show

what a big man you are? Is that it?

That's right. You've captured me exactly.

And so, good night.

Where are you go--

Hey, Pops,

you will-- you will not

walk out on me this time!

You are repellent to me when you drink.

Well, tough shit,

because we have to talk about this.

You are crude,

slovenly and unattractive,

and this discussion is at an end.

Fuck you, Mr. Kane.

♪ ♪

I will not have this in my home.

I'm just trying to understand, Pops. No, you're not.

You want to condemn me, like everyone else.

You want to point your finger at the pathetic old man

grown lunatic with his spending,

trapped in his ridiculous castle,

still fighting old battles he will never win. No, Pops.

There is nothing to understand.

Only this:

I am a man who could've been great...

but was not.

I was 18 when we met. He was 50. ( gasps )

Really?

I just saw that big old gold ring

and I just grabbed right on 'cause he was gonna make me a star.

And he did.

Yeah.

I wanted to do comedies.

Silly stuff, you know? ( chuckles )

But Pops,

he doesn't get comedies too good.

He kept putting me in those period pieces.

Carole, you know this...

"Citizen Kane" movie?

The one that's supposed to be about Pops

and everything,

and the character of Susan Alexander

is supposed to be me? Marion,

everyone knows you're not like that.

But that's just the thing. ♪ ♪

I am like that.

This little girl comes from nowhere

and meets this--

( whispering ) this guy.

He rules the world, you know?

And-and-and...

somewhere along the line she gets lost.

Thinking like that is only gonna drive you nuts.

( sighs ) You were a great star.

You had a good run.

That ought to be enough.

But all of a sudden it's not.

You know?

It's hell when you gotta look back and you say...

"What I could've been."

♪ ♪

( ring clatters )

Man: Can I help you?

My Lord.

How much for all of it?

♪ In an armchair by the fireside ♪

♪ Just big enough for two ♪

♪ We'll be happy... ♪

Man on radio: ...of the Nazi weapons of destruction. ♪ Oh so happy... ♪

Radio: It is unmistakably apparent to all of us

that unless the advance of Hitlerism

is forcibly checked now

the western hemisphere-- ( clicks off )

♪ A little kiss or two ♪

♪ In the gloaming by the fireside ♪

♪ With you. ♪

You got my memo. What do we do?

He's a fucking pisher.

Why does Hearst give a shit?

It's enough that he does. Would Louella really do it?

In a New York minute. Selznick: I say to hell with Louella,

to hell with Hearst. This hits all of us.

It's our business and we can't take it lying down.

We all didn't make "Gone with the Wind," you know?

Some of us can't afford your principles.

We gotta look at this checkbook-wise.

Who isn't hurting already?

All this "Jew" talk?

Now he's boycotting RKO ads.

Next week it's Warners,

Fox or Columbia, right? Goddamn right.

He's got us nailed.

Dates, times...

photographs, for God's sake.

I don't mean to be funny, but...

what could he have on Mickey Mouse?

He's got you so tied in with J. Edgar Hoover and America First

you might as well put on a brown shirt and kiss those happy little kiddies goodbye.

Relax, Walt. At least he don't have you screwing Snow White.

I got fuckin' Errol Flynn on my payroll.

( men laugh )

You're a smart man, Louie. I suspect

you didn't call us all here without a plan.

Give over. We will buy this movie...

and we will destroy it.

We will assemble a fund between us

and we will go to George Schaefer...

♪ ♪

and we will buy the negative and every print of "Citizen Kane"

and we will burn them.

If I don't hear an objection to this agenda

in the next five seconds, I'll assume the motion is carried.

Very well.

Orson: What does it profit a man

to gain the whole world

if he loses his soul?

Mank: And John the Baptist says, "A night with Rita Hayworth?"

( chuckles )

George! Just the man we're looking for.

Look. Not a single scene shot in the studio.

Of course, you're gonna have to help me with accounting-- I think you should sit down.

I don't want to sit down, George. All right, don't sit down.

The bosses of the other studios

have made an offer of $800,000

to buy the negative and all the prints...

to burn them.

They went to the stockholders in New York.

I've been talking to Swanbeck.

I think they're going to take it.

Hmm.

You shit.

You treacherous little shit. Orson!

This isn't George's fault. Shut up, Mank.

You wanna take my movie, George?

Is that it? Is that what you came here for?

Okay, take it.

( snickers )

But why not take it all, George, hmm?

Why not take everything, George? Easy!

Everything I am, everything I could be is in that film.

Take it, George. Here, I offer it up to you. Take it.

No, George, wait.

George, wait, please.

George, I'm sorry. ( chuckles )

I'm sorry. Look, I am.

George, please just-- just--

( sighs ) give me one more chance.

Let me go to New York. Please, George,

let me go talk to the stockbrokers and I promise you--

I promise you, you will never see me again.

( traffic noise ) ♪ ♪

( sighs )

( softly ) Ace of spades.

Ace of spades.

Good afternoon.

Today a man from Germany

invaded Greece.

He's already swallowed Poland,

Denmark, Norway

and Belgium.

He's bombing London as I speak.

Everywhere this man goes, he crushes the life

and the freedom of his subjects.

He sews yellow stars on their lapels.

He takes their voices.

In this country, we--

we still have our voices.

We can argue with them

and we can sing and we can be heard because we are--

for the moment-- free.

No one can tell us

what to say or how to say it.

Can they?

Gentlemen...

I am one voice.

That is all. My picture is one voice.

One view, one opinion, nothing more.

Men are dying in Europe now, and Americans soon will be,

so that we can surmount the tyrants and the dictators.

Will you send a message across America

that one man

can take away our voices?

So...

who is Mr. Hearst...

and who is Mr. Welles? ( chuckles )

Well, Mr. Hearst built a palace

of brick and mortar

and little wars and corpses piled high.

Mr. Welles built a palace of illusion.

It's... ( laughs )

what we call a matte painting.

It's a camera trick. It's nothing.

Nothing but a dream.

Today...

you have the chance

to let the dream triumph.

Thank you.

( murmuring )

We open May 1st.

It was a pretty speech, Orson,

but you got lucky.

Hearst is going bankrupt. It's all over the wire.

Pretty speeches change the world, George.

You meant it, right?

Does it matter?

Yes!

It matters.

We will be immediately closing 12 of the papers and the wire services.

And we will be liquidating some other assets as soon as possible--

most of the land in Mexico

and your collection of art and antiquities.

Mr. Hearst spent his life collecting this art.

We've been in touch with Gimbels in New York

and they've agreed to hold a special sale.

They've given over an entire floor to the merchandise.

You'll have to go there in person

to sign the bill of sale, by the way.

We don't know yet whether we'll be able to retain the castle.

The land has some capital.

We might be able to keep it on as an investment.

Maybe break it up into smaller units for housing.

When will it come out?

We can't keep it a secret, sir.

Once we announce the Gimbels' sale and start liquidating the assets.

( sighs )

Let it go, Pops. Let it go.

♪ ♪

( elevator dinging )

( clears throat )

Mr. Hearst, I'm not sure if you remember who I am.

My name's Orson Welles-- I know who you are.

Well, then you probably also know

that I've got a picture opening tomorrow night.

Be happy to arrange some tickets for you, if you'd like to come.

( elevator stops )

I wonder...

have you any idea the damage you've done?

Do you?

Intimately.

For every sin you've placed on my head,

I could give you a hundred others.

But I believe that a man's private life

should not be made public property.

Despite what you may have read in your papers,

I'd like to think my film was more than

a cheap expose of one man's life.

And what would you call it?

My man gains the world and loses his soul.

I suppose in some circles that would be considered

a fair exchange. ♪ ♪

( elevator whirring )

It's not my life you sabotaged with your film, Mr. Welles.

My battle with the world is almost over.

Yours, I'm afraid,

has just begun.

( dings )

Good luck, Mr. Welles.

Kane would've taken the tickets!

( traffic noise, people chattering )

Orson: It's my birthday this week. Did you know that, George?

26. Happy birthday.

( chuckles ) Ain't it the bee's knees to see

all the high muckety-mucks dolled up

like Aztecs for human sacrifice?

You gonna watch? I know how it ends:

Rosebud's the sled. Mank!

( falsetto ) Rosebud's the sled.

Come on. It doesn't matter. They'll hate it, anyway.

Not enough close-ups, too many New York actors.

Knock it off, Mank. Relax, kid.

You made a great picture.

Now we have to convince them.

So does this mean you're in for "The Life of Christ"?

I got the axe this morning.

Oh, you're kidding?

It's all right.

I made my choices, same as you.

This whole Hearst nightmare...

( snorts ) who's gonna remember it?

Nobody.

We'll be lucky if they remember the goddamn movie.

What have I done? Come on.

He'll land on his feet. He always does.

Let's get a drink.

♪ Still I can't get no place with you ♪

♪ 'Cause you're so supreme... ♪

We pulled it off, didn't we, Mank?

Depends on what side you're on.

♪ I dream, dream day and night of you... ♪

Look, Mank, I-- I never meant to--

( chuckles )

Sure you did. Anyway,

was it worth it?

I don't know.

( chuckles )

I can't imagine doing it any other way.

I suppose it's just my character.

It won't be easy, having made your masterpiece at 26.

Is that what you think?

That I'm just gonna burn out

at the ripe old age of 26?

All stars burn out, Orson.

It's the flame that counts.

To the flame.

To the flame.

( music continues )

( music ends )

( jazz music playing )

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

( classical score playing )

( music fades )