F wie Fälschung

F for Fake is perhaps Orson Welles' least famous film. It's easily eclipsed by such masterpieces as Citizen Kane, The Magnificent Ambersons, and Touch of Evil. Also, the lesser-known masterpieces The Trial and Chimes at Midnight, which are as good as the previous three. Still, F is quite brilliant in itself, even if it's little more than an exercise in stylized editing. In fact, there's a little more to it than that. F is ostensibly a semi-documentary about forgery and fakery. Its main subjects are Elmyr, a pre-eminent art forger, Clifford Irving, who faked the Howard Hughes biography, Orson Welles himself briefly (chiefly the War of the Worlds broadcast), and Elmyr's precursor, another Hungarian forger who is supposedly the best forger who ever lived. There is a lot of play in the film about what is real and what is not. A lot of the documentary footage appears to be real, and some is open to question.

All in all, the film's subjects are enormously interesting, especially Elmyr. It's simply amazing watching him effortlessly, and I MEAN EFFORTLESSLY, reproducing the paintings of Picasso and Matisse. Elmyr gloats how no expert on Earth could tell his fakes apart from the real thing.

Clifford Irving's segments are somewhat less fascinating, but still worthwhile. His first major success was the biography of Elmyr (which was honestly produced), so Welles intermingles his story, more or less, into Elmyr's. After that, Welles talks a lot about Howard Hughes.

The final segment, about a woman who seduced Picasso into producing portraits of her which she then seduced away from him, is mostly re-enacted. Since it is not made up of documentary footage, but re-enacted, it proves very interesting. Welles himself participates in the segment, where he role plays the part of the dying old forger, with the girl, the real-life Picasso seductress, playing Picasso, who came to Paris to root out the master art forger who produced some original "Picassos." Once again, Welles puts on yet another performance of a lifetime. What was it at this point, his one thousandth? He also has a great scene at the beginning of the film putting on a magic show for a little boy.

I deliberately skipped the part of the film, quite short, where Welles talks about himself. He speaks about War of the Worlds and Citizen Kane, a forgery of William Randolph Hearst's (and Marion Davies') life. He claims that one of his original ideas was to do a pseudo-biopic of Howard Hughes. I've never heard of it. Is he making this up, too?

There is also, though, this sad undertone of the film about Welles' own life. He seems to be wondering whether it was all worth it. He talks about forging a career as a Broadway star in order to get work in Ireland. But wasn't he? He was a director, at least, but wasn't he also a stage actor? If not, he was always a famous and successful film actor, even in movies that he didn't direct himself. He speaks of his War of the Worlds radio production in very demeaning terms, joking that, if it were produced for a medium other than radio, he would have been laughed at (he shows clips of, I believe, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, or one such 1950s UFO movie, where UFOs are wasting Washington D.C., clips which he also runs under the closing credits).

As for the film's style, it has very complex but sometimes annoying editing, very rapid. I would suspect that even people raised on MTV might get a little dizzy watching it. There is also a lot of repetition of bits of interviews, clips, and the like. It's all in fun, but it also can't help but seem a bit silly. What it really ends up doing is subtracting the illusion of abundant substance. Oh well. Like I said, it's enormously entertaining. I think all of Welles' films were, really. People tend to forget that this master crafstman, rightfully thought of as one of the pre-eminent artists of the medium, was, first and foremost, an entertainer. That's not something you can say about the majority of cinematic auteurs. 8/10.

The magnificent Orson takes us on a whimsical tour of fakery that involves some real fakery, some fake fakery, some fake reality, and... You get the idea.

The point seems to be that all of life is an illusion. The question becomes how much illusion can we buy and how much becomes offensive. We see what we want to see. We ignore the rest.

Orson is in classic form here, reciting poetry with dramatic flare, theatrically roaming about Europe in a wide-brimmed black hat, black cape, and surrounded by a clowd of cigar smoke. Do we get an insight into the real Orson? Is there a real Orson? Is there any point asking?

Orson tilts his head at a humorous angle and looks at us out of the corner of his eyes -- and we are his willing victims in a delightful hoax. Or is it real?

F is for Fake (1973)

Like many, I'm an Orson Welles fan. Not just his films (the best of them are among the best ever made) but also the man, for his rebellious side and his persistence. And his flaws, undermining his own best purposes.

But this movie struck me as affected, overly long, baroquely complicated, and finally just off-putting. Yes, it's incredibly well edited, and for that, if that's your thing, you should see it. But to me editing is part of something larger, and this larger thing is troubled.

I saw no reason to really care about the subjects here. The deliberate confusions (borne from the editing, in part) are half art and half avoidance, in a way. The documentary truth about the subjects, the supposed subjects, a French painter of forgeries and a writer about Howard Hughes and a forged check, is not really the goal. Nor is it possible. So what we have instead is the ride, the process of talking about these various man and their rich compatriots from all kinds of colorful places.

There is a limited range of footage at use here, most of it home-style 8mm color stock of the two or three main participants (call them suspects, call them actors, call them fakes) which was shot by a different filmmaker and turned over to Welles. This is interspersed with high quality footage of the narrator, Mr. Welles, in his deep voice and characteristic hat. And there is a little additional footage, including the dubiously connected opening scenes where Welles's own young attractive partner parades in a mini-skirt on a public street, only later to comment that such an act came out of her "feminism."

Okay. Maybe this is all part of the lie that gets incorporated as the truth. When you play games with truth and lies some interesting conflicts are intended. But for me, this beginning and the long end where a fictional series of paintings has been made by Picasso (not actually) of this same Welles companion (whose name is Oja Kodar) is pure voyeurism on the part of the director. Why he wanted to share his woman publicly I couldn't say (but can guess), but in fact the filming at these points takes on a very different sensibility.

In style, the rest of the movie strikes me as stunted, though endlessly interesting because of its constant cutting and jumping from one scene and format to another. In content it all seemed circuitous for effect without the necessary thrill of caring. The result avoids clichés beautifully, which is good (in fact, what the film has most of all, in a Welles way, is originality). But it also ends up being at times more style than effect. That is, the effects, which are so evident, are superficial.

Which leaves very little. Without a compelling subject and a convincing formal presentation, what is there?

So what about the huge reputation this movie has? Let's assume it's more than just Welles worship. I think for one it has anticipated the growing public interest in art forgery. It also creates a fascinating zone where a documentary isn't about establishing the truth, and so is a kind of third category--the fiction film using found footage. (To some extent this is the core of it--Welles has used existing footage and led our reading of it to create his own subjective "truth" of it.) There are aspects here all over the place. Aspects and aspects of aspects. For this, there is a formal invention that might have been enough when I was younger. Now, for whatever reason, it feels self-indulgent and, like the first scene in the movie, pure deception.

Maybe that's the point.

"F for fake" stands for the last movie Orson Welles really directed and, as for many artistic legacies it's the final demonstration of the genius of the artist, becoming some kind of briefing of his entire career.

It's hard to explain this movie and why I really enjoyed because, as many other Welles's movies, it's full of surprises and twists.

Filmed as a Documentary, this film introduces us the personae of Elmyr, a painter who lives out of painting copies of famous pictures of Van Gogh, Picasso, Vlaminck and many others and making them look like they're the original one. Welles also introduces to us two more people; an actress and a biographer.

With many resemblances to Welles's own life, the director of such wonderful pieces as "Citizen Kane" and "Touch of Evil" plays with the audience some sort of magical trickery. What is real and what is not? If Elmyr is able to paint a perfect copy of a famous picture and fool the world greatest experts, is he as good artist as the originals he's copying?

Working as a perfect metaphore of Welles own experiences in art (he's not only been movie director but radio speaker and even painter) "F for Fake" remains as a perfect legacy of the ideas of one of the greatest and most gifted cinema artists. Don't miss it!

F for Fake (1973)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

Orson Welles' final major picture started off as a documentary on art forger Elmyr de Hory but when that project led to an interview with Clifford Irving, the man who wrote the fake Howard Hughes biography, the documentary took a new turn and decided to look at fakes all around. This really isn't your typical documentary and many critics of the film will say it makes very little sense and all in all is nothing more than an incoherent mess. I wouldn't go that far but I think F FOR FAKE is certainly more style than actual substance. I say that because Welles visual style here is something that you didn't see in documentaries at the time and I'd say that nothing that followed really looked the same. The documentary has an avant garde feel to it and most of them comes from the editing. The editing goes all over the place with all sorts of weird edits, different styles of cameras being used and the editing usually takes the story and tells it in a different time frame and I think this is where people get lost. The look of the film is certainly something impressive and you really can turn the volume down and be entertained just by the look that Welles made. However, this "style" is so good that it really takes away from the stories being told and I think it really kills most of the interest in the subjects. I think the way the story goes back and forth does make the film incoherent but this is also due to the fact that the material just isn't worth following. I think had Welles made a more traditional documentary then the story would have been more entertaining. As is, the story just gets lost in the style and in the end you really don't learn anything about either man. We even get a quick clip about The War of the World hoax that landed Welles not in jail but in Hollywood. What actually keeps the film entertaining is the performance of Welles being himself and hosting. He comes off so good and charming that it at least keeps you awake even when the story itself goes under. F FOR FAKE is considered by some to be horrid while others see it as another Welles masterpiece. I'm in the middle thinking it shows some signs of greatness but in the end it's just too rough around the edges to really work.