All films begin at a keyboard. But whether the film is about screenwriters, journalists, novelists or composers, how does cinema depict the art of writing?
Tag Archives: Orson Welles
Orson Welles is often referred to as a glistening talent who wasted his early promise. Touch of Evil, the last film he made in America, proves otherwise.
The world is so noisy, we unconsciously filter out all that we don’t want to hear. Much of film sound operates in the same way.
Best known for his crime dramas, Martin Scorsese’s adaptation of Edith Wharton’s romantic novel, The Age of Innocence is one of his most incisive works.
On the surface Yasujiro Ozu’s examination of family life in post-war Japan may sound simple, but what he delivered is one of cinema’s supreme achievements.
What makes for a great shot? Beauty? The lens? Lighting? Combine them and you have something that amounts to more than just an image.
In terms of genre, few films are as influential film as Fritz Lang’s M. Where would The French Connection, LA Confidential and Se7en be without it?
John Huston’s film of Dashiell Hammett’s classic novel was the third adaptation of the hard-boiled mystery. How did he succeed where others had failed?
Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon is celebrated for asking what is truth. Which is more than a little ironic, because that’s not what it is really about.
Orson Welles is celebrated for Citizen Kane but it was this adaptation of Booth Tarkington’s novel that defined his career.
Orson Welles’ debut feature is now a quarter of a century old. Have we been taking its greatness for granted or is it time for reappraisal?
What makes for a great scene? Performance? Conflict? Dialogue? Visuals? Music? Combine them and you have atomic weight.
Orson Welles was one of cinema’s true geniuses but was he correct in claiming that two things cinema couldn’t honestly depict were prayer and sex?
He died in 1616 but the fact that over four hundred films have been made from his plays shows how much The Bard knew about human nature.
Francis Ford Coppola’s radical adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s novella is one of the most astonishing achievements in the entire history of cinema.
Emily Brontë’s classic romance has been filmed over 25 times. Have any been faithful? Where is the line between interpretation and desecration?
Made in 1944, Gaslight is an Oscar-winning melodrama concerning madness and murder. The film itself is guilty of attempted homicide.
Divorce is traumatic enough without Hollywood feeling the need to laugh at it. But Danny DeVito’s deliciously dark comedy brought career highs from his cast.
Jonathan Glazer’s film is one of the most assured debuts in cinema history. But the film has another entrance that also stands with the best of them.
How can Howard Hawks’ adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s labyrinthine detective novel be heralded as a classic when it is impossible to follow?
Peter Bogdanovich was New York born and bred, so how did he manage to direct a masterpiece set in small town Texas when he had never set foot in the state?
This short video-essay compares and contrasts the ways both Martin Scorsese and Orson Welles present the corrupting forces of wealth and power. Their narratives may be similar but they yield different results.
Belonging to a tradition that dates back to Rebel Without a Cause, Richard Linklater’s early masterpiece also owes some debt of gratitude to Robert Altman.
Wes Anderson may share his surname with other directors, but there’s no mistaking his films for anybody elses.