Me and Orson Welles

The "me" in "Me and Orson Welles" is Richard (Zac Efron) a high school student who gets himself a part in Orson Welles' production of Julius Caesar at the Mercury Theatre. He's the kind of kid that loves everything creative in the world, is romantic, and is confident and sure of himself. Well, that is until he's alongside Orson Welles. Christian McKay plays Welles as the cocky and out-spoken man that I'm sure he was.

Directed by Richard Linklater, he has managed to turn this coming-of-age film into a Shakespearean theatrical production. My living room was transported into a theatre house, and I was watching a play. The lighting and score mirrored the production and its time; the actors were all right on cue; and backstage became the forefront.

This film is not a biopic, it's just the story of a young man discovering the acting world and the real world -- all alongside one of the most dramatic artists of the time. Romance was added to the storyline, along with a touch of self-discovery and world wonderment -- but that was done beautifully and softly. "Me and Orson Welles" is the perfect blend of coming-of-age and theatre.

Orson Welles was, if nothing else, 'something. Even his detractors, like Ingmar Bergman, said that he had an 'immense personality', and this is what is a great appeal for an actor who can embody the full emotions of the man, and look like him second. Richard Linklater, the director, has an ace up his sleeve with the casting of Christian McKay- an actor who is a relative newcomer in film- that is just about right. It's actually a case where the actor, perhaps due to the personality/character of the man he's portraying, upstages others around him.

This is good (as is McKay, being in his 30's, making 22-at-the-time Orson appear or act older/wiser), since Welles is a man who could take over a room, and in fact was looked upon to do so with his Mercury theater players, who couldn't even do much rehearing or anything until he showed up. McKay goes into every little gesture or facial expression with gusto and, equally, some sublty when called for like when talking about his pet project of the Magnificent Ambersons.

It's almost so good a performance as Welles that you should see the movie just for him: fans of the director/actor/legend will want to see him brought to life and made in respectful homage, and non-fans will be marveled by a thespian bringing another thespian to life. There is a downside, however, in Linklater's casting (not so much with the supporting roles as they vary between being very good like the guy playing Joseph Cotten aka 'Joe the lady's man' to decent like Ben Chaplain as Coulouris) with Zak Efron. It's admirable that he's trying to get past his days of High School Musical and build up an actual career, but he doesn't breathe enough life into his coming-of-age character Richard to make him more than just passable. He's a cute kid, yet he's not really able to meet up to the dimensions of the character (which, to be fair, are kind of thin).

Linklater's film is inherently interesting dramatization just on the main subject matter: Welles and the Mercury theater putting on the daring production of Julius Caesar that would propel him and his troupe into the first real spotlight. However the film is most interesting and gets its main dramatic fire when it focuses on the rehearsals and some of the backstage antics (i.e. an accidental setting-off of the sprinklers by Richard fooling with matches), not so much the quasi-love story between Clare Danes' character with Efron. It's not got anything we haven't seen before, even in the sort of whimsical fable that Linklater lays out. The conclusion of their relationship is wise- as is how Welles 'deals' with Richard late in the film- but ultimately one kind of sighs and sits through a lot of so-so acting/pouting by Efron in order to get to the juicier scenes with Welles. But, as I mentioned before, it's worth a full-price pretty much on the basis of Welles and McKay. As Welles himself could be: exceptional and/or decent at once. 7.5/10

Me and Orson Welles is a wonderful story of a young boy (Efron)whose only acting experience is in high school musicals (ha! See what they did there) who manages to get a small part in Orson Welles' (Adam McKay) 1937 production of Julius Caesar. The film follows the volatile relationship between Orson and his company. He is a madman, a selfish, arrogant user and an absolute genius. He knows how the politics of show-business and he knows people, and how to play them. However, for all his antics, he is powerfully charismatic and it seems generally accepted that he is a genius.

Christian McKay's performance here as Orson Welles is wonderfully broad as he goes through every one of Orson Welles persona's with equal relish. He is snappy and arrogant but at the same time warm enough to earn some affection so when he lets a character down, you feel just as played yourself. The rest of the cast were great too. Zac Efron does his best here to leap from Disney heartthrob to leading man, and I personally thought he was solid and likable, with just enough of a sparkle in his eye and just enough skill to keep it there.

Overall this film has a charming story, which ends on such a high note I didn't know whether to smile or cry. It also boasts a very strong cast and most importantly a sweet disposition that stayed with me for a good half hour after the credits rolled.

I wanted to hate this movie because it gave me a bitter aftertaste that I couldn't put my finger on. I admit, the praise that others have heaped upon this film is true: acting is superb, the entire production is authentic, and Christian McKay's rendition of Orson is very convincing, particularly that voice. So why did it leave me with a feeling like I had just ingested a triple salami sandwich with extra onions and pimentos?

The key is staring us all in the face; it's in the title. "Me & Orson Welles" (notice the audacity of putting "Me" before "Orson Welles") is a scathing portrayal of the unapologetic one-upmanship and venomous diva mentality which apparently dominates the entertainment industry and always has. Orson Welles is shown to be arrogance personified, and understandably so, but far more unsettling is the way every member of the stage community, from the leading lady all the way down to the lowly set designer, is equally self-centered and demanding "me me me". What's very clever about this movie is that it's very subtle. This is not a thick satire like "Catch-22" or a society-deprecating fable like "Edward Scissorhands" which immediately shows us the fault in the human condition. No, this is so subtle that most people may not even catch the sarcasm at work.

Aside from good looks, not a single character is likable. Claire Danes with her breezy smile and undeniably cute face plays a theater gold-digger so adept with her ladder climbing you'd think she was a firefighter. Always on her way to rendezvous with the latest producer/celebrity du jour, you start to wonder if she has a soul behind those dark eyes. Hats off to Claire for being able to play such a destestable character with grace, elegance and charm that makes us overlook her selfish agenda and instead become captivated by her. Other characters are more obvious with their self-serving natures, demanding more lines, special lighting, and everything short of a bowl of m&m's with all the brown ones removed. (Any 80s hair band fans out there? That's a reference to Van Halen's bizarre demand/prank at every concert.)

Ironically, and brilliantly, the one character whom I found to be thoroughly likable despite his selfishness was Orson Welles himself. This is simply because he openly and unapologetically makes himself the despotic king (much like Julius Caesar, the play they are performing), while all the other characters are toadies and yes-men who hypocritically assume their subservient roles in the pecking order. But Orson is shown to be probably how he was in real life: a master manipulator and Machiavellian stage tyrant whom you gotta love because he lets everyone know exactly what they're in for, should they choose to join his bizarre circus known as the Mercury Theater.

Now enter Zac Ephron's wide-eyed, idealistic and naïve character "Junior" who is thrown into this bizarre food chain, full of ridiculous notions like giving credit where credit is due, respect for others, and of course the most doomed concept to enter a theater since Abraham Lincoln, "love". Zac Ephron's monologue near the end when he recites a verse in class is chilling, and the sinister stare he gives as he delivers the last line is indicative that he has learned a thing or two about theater. Pay attention to that monologue because it sums up everything I'm saying here.

I think if you're intrigued by dark (yet subtle) themes like this, then you'll have a great time. I have to strongly disagree with a few other reviewers' descriptions using words like "charming", "nostalgic" and "wonderful". That's like saying Beethoven's 5th symphony was a real toe tapper in "Clockwork Orange". Knowing director Richard Linklater's body of work including muckraking films like "Fast Food Nation" and even the insidiously disturbing teen flick "Dazed and Confused", I have no doubt that "Me & Orson Welles" was a deliberate anti-romance. And I don't mean romance between two people; I mean the romance of a young lad and his first "kiss" with the theater. Definitely check out this flick if you're up for a challenge and not afraid to get a little dirty.

The career of Richard Linklater has proved one of the most delightfully eclectic in the film industry, veering between works as diverse as teenage subculture films (Dazed and Confused) to philosophical romances (Before Sunrise) to drug-addled paranoid thrillers (A Scanner Darkly) to mainstream comedies (School of Rock). But even with such a varied body of work, it is difficult to deny Linklater's latest still seeming somewhat of an anomaly: a lighthearted period piece examining the timeless figure of Orson Welles, making his name through a 1930s theater production of Julius Ceasar still seems an odd about face even for such a versatile director. And yet it is somewhat fitting that such a whimsically talented modern director should examine one of cinema's most legendary mavericks as Linklater's latest, Me and Orson Welles is a charming addition to his body of work, a breezy, self- reflexive yet nostalgic celebration of the mediums of performance as experienced alongside one of the most dynamic and influential figures ever to impact them.

The agile script ably captures the conflicting clashes of the behemoth of a personality that was Orson Welles, from the explosive temper tantrums to the slyly manipulative charm to the casual womanizing, painting a vivid (but likely not larger than life) portrait of the man without either romanticizing or demonising him. It is ultimately the presence of the titular character which rescues the film from becoming yet another "cast rehearsing a play" film, as the dynamo of Welles tearing through the film at all the least expected moments creates a sporadic force of havok keeping the film continually off kilter, preventing it from descending into cliché and keeping it consistently interesting as consequence. While the story's lightness of touch does make some of the plot points either overly obvious or unbelievable, a film so unassumingly enjoyable fails to evoke much complaint - whether dabbling in the dramatic or the comedic, Me and Orson Welles remains refreshingly cheerful and earnest, and all the better for it. Completing the package, Linklater's rare tackling of a period piece demonstrates his typically astute ability to capture the feel and flavour of the times, with the earnest ambition of the 1930s well complimented by subtly stylish sets and costumes while simultaneously avoiding beating the audience over the head with more overt details of the time (instead of the potential hackneyed Nazi allusions, Linklater includes merely a brief radio snippet which is quickly cut off, a classy and subtle inclusion).

Undergoing a difficult transition from teenage heartthrob to dramatic lead, Zac Efron gives a surprisingly solid performance as the idealistic young actor swept into the wild world of Welles, convincingly contributing charm, comedy and genuine sympathy to the emotional centerpoint of the film. However, given the title, it isn't difficult to imagine the inevitable highlight of the show, and true enough, as the infamous Welles, British stage actor Christian McKay doesn't so much steal scenes as seize and throttle them, exploding on screen with the same engrossing bluster that only the real Welles himself could conjure up. Blending the conflicting elements of an indisputably difficult character as easily as he nails the trademark voice and appearance, McKay's Welles alternates between devilish charmer and explosive force to be feared, shaking up the film with similar vigour and nuanced genius - one of the most impressive cinematic debuts in recent memory. Claire Danes is also on top form as a good hearted but endlessly ambitious member of Welles' company, and Ben Chaplin and James Tupper are endearing presences as eccentric members of Welles' calamitous company.

As unconventional a project as it may be, Me and Orson Welles remains one of the most unashamedly lighthearted and enjoyable forays into nostalgia in many a year, breezily blending the serious with the silly while never skimping on historical fact. The addition of McKay's brilliantly combustive Welles make the theatrical rehearsal sequences a joy to behold instead of drearily formulaic, making Linklater's latest film a charm to behold for even the most cynical of audiences.

-8/10