Monsieur Arkadin - Dossier secret

This is a highly uneven but interesting mystery from Mercury Productions and writer-director Orson Welles. Two-bit American hustler Guy Van Stratten (Robert Arden) searches for a mysterious, super-rich man named Gregory Arkadin (Orson Welles) in hopes of getting some money from him, one way or another. Surprisingly, Arkadin confesses to Guy that he suffers from amnesia, and he hires Guy to research Arkadin's past to fill in the blanks of his past. Guy suspects there's more to the story when those he interviews start showing up dead.

This movie is a mess, but it's a fascinating mess. The movie was taken out of Welles' hands in the editing phase and was released in various cuts all over the world over the course of a decade or more. The version I watched was assembled from all of the various versions, and supposedly most closely resembles what Welles wanted. It's still a slightly confusing jumble, but it's entertaining. It's unlike most movies of the mid 50's, with rapid edits, odd camera angles, and the aforementioned narrative structure utilizing flashbacks.

The sound is either mostly or all post-dub, which also adds to the disorienting effect. This movie has a lot of flaws (several shots are out of focus, Welles' fake nose looks terrible), but I found it an intriguing mystery, and I was never quite certain what was coming, which is exceedingly rare these days. Plus, the many brief appearances of classic character actors, such as AkimTamiroff, Katina Paxinou, Mischa Auer, and Michael Redgrave, all playing bizarre and eccentric characters, is amusing.

You guys are great...so much interesting, smart stuff in all the comments. What can I add? Well, I saw it last night, and I was thinking about The Auteur Theory and Roland Barthes' thoughts about the one big book of which all books are a part. And, although I haven't seen Alphaville for years, I realized that the connections between these two films are important: the Mizraki score and the performance of Akim Tamiroff.Godard is such a great mannerist, and this film (Arkadin) is such a basic text for director - driven cinema. How can this film mean anything to anyone who doesn't understand the rage to create - against all odds, against one's self-destructive nature, against one's death wish? It is "breathless", truly. Scenes never give the impression of ending, everything is done in overdrive, people are constantly looming, dizzyingly moving in and out of shot; the grotesquerie of the bad acting rhymes with the grotesquerie of the costume set pieces and with that of the B movie Euro - freak character actors parading, one by one, in front of the camera for their star turns. "Feeding time" indeed! I saw Arkadin shortly after seeing Spielberg's Munich. The only similarity is in the constant change of location. But where in the Spielberg this functions as a celebration of money, budget and the power of illusion, here each location is both overcrowded and threadbare. The Munich of Arkadin is a bombed-out nightmare with traces of its former elegance. The Europe of this film is so haunted and sleepwalking; the world of this film is made up of bits and scraps.

The fact that Arkadin connects closely to Kane or Quinlan is obvious and certainly interesting. Although it should seem obvious at this late date that Welles has patterns and themes that reoccur throughout his films. Does this fact still illuminate anything? If anybody questions the fact that Welles is an artist...well, this film will just add to their confusion. But for us believers this film can function like the ritual suffering of the penitents in the film. It hurts so good!

Did I ever mention that I watched Mr. Arkadin every day for three months once? And that I recently bought a version of it different from the one I bought years ago (supposedly the UK print), and enjoyed it like I was seeing it for the first time?

Welles is a childhood hero. There's nothing rational about my feelings about Welles. If there are Welles fan boys, I admit to being one. But I have entertained the notion that I like Mr. Arkadin (also called Confidential Report, sometimes) as much as I do because it so completely betrays Welles as a titanic artist having to deal with the small frustrations and vicissitudes of Everyman. The bones of the thing, the behind the scene life of the film, the fact that the whole thing at one point passed through the man's hands shows through more than on any film he ever made. You actually see the customs stamps at the end of reels! His stratagems are more obvious, his resources more threadbare here than even Othello, his most legendary prolonged/disjointed/truncated shoot. Parts of it look shot on Super8; as good as some of it looks, at other times, the lighting doesn't feel professional (I am thinking of the nightclub and penitent procession scenes). In the end, I think Arkadin is the one completed and released Welles film that humanizes the man, without exactly bringing him low.

Clinching my interest in the film is Welles' comment, reiterated for different interviewers through the years, that Arkadin contained the best story he ever thought up to film. (He made a radio script of it first, and when he refined it for film, he saw fit to keep perhaps 95% intact from the radio play.) I may not agree with Welles' own appraisal of Arkadin as a story, but again, his comments betray perhaps more than intended: Welles' deep, and possibly irrational, feeling of attachment to this film. He said he considered it the most 'destroyed' film (destroyed by outside interference) he ever made. --Worse even than The Ambersons! I really think he never had "closure" with the experience of making Arkadin, and it continued to haunt him the rest of his days.

I invite you to take a look at it (it is available in many cheap public domain DVD versions) and see if you, too, fall under its spell. If it leaves you totally cold, or you can't take it seriously, I understand. But remember, better and worse DVD versions exist. Supposedly, the Criterion Collection will release it sometime in the next couple of years. That may be the version to make your definitive move with.

In this curious film, the ridiculous clashes with the sublime. Robert Arden and Patricia Medina turn in two of the worst, cheesiest performances imaginable. They're both straight out of a Saturday morning cartoon. He's all lock-jawed and hard-boiled; she vacillates between wide-eyed fawning and witch-like threats. The tedium they engender is very difficult to get past, because you can't even watch them as campy.

That's partly because their performances are just that bad, and partly because there is so much else in this movie that works well, or at least strives for excellence. There are a variety of striking images placed before us. Welles' eye for distinctive camera angles and atmospheric lighting was working overtime in this picture. You might quibble with some of his choices as being a tad too melodramatic, but you can't fault him for careful attention to detail. His performance is the usual Welles stuff--overpowering, and perhaps at times almost cartoonish like that of Arden and Medina. But make no mistake: when Welles was cartoonish, it was because he meant to be. Not because that was the only way he knew how to "act." Paolo Mori was also wonderful as as Arkadin's daughter. There were other great characters along the way. Their performances also clash noisily with the wooden hamming from Arden.

And, as others have mentioned, the sound is problematic. Clearly, the movie was overdubbed, and badly, after the fact. In fact, when I first started watching it, I was convinced that it was originally filmed in a foreign language. Nope--something went wrong during filming, it appears, or Welles for reasons of his own decided to re-do all of the sound in the studio after filming. The result is pretty bad. Whether a scene is in a small room, a piazza, an open field, or a vaulted cathedral, the result is the same. Background noise sounds just like that: artificial background noise. The voices sound like they were recorded in a very small, very dead studio. Amateurish and clumsy.

The result is a movie that is, at times, interesting to watch, but it's hard to forget its weaknesses, even for a moment.

One wonders how many times the stagehands had to wrangle a raging Welles off of Arden, prying his hands from the actor's neck, convincing him that murder is illegal, even for a cinematic giant, feeding him rum punch and peanuts, and telling Arden to go hide for fifteen minutes until the anger has passed.

Essentially, 'Mr. Arkadin' is Orson Welles' attempt in using cinema to elevate Pulp into Myth. Based on "a lot of bad radio scripts" (in Welles' words) written for the Harry Lime radio shows, one could also read it as a more personal attempt to free himself from the shackles of 'Citizen Kane' (with which it has numerous , although superficial, parallels) and be reborn as a Europeoan filmmaker. The fact that (again) Welles was restricted by budget and eventually dismissed from the editing room due to the commercial concerns of his producer Louis Dolivet does not diminish what is still a highly intriguing work. In fact, 'Mr. Arkadin' has become something of an enigma unto itself and the story of it's creation and subsequent undoing is as fascinating as the film itself.

For those interested in investigating further, The Criterion Collection have done a wonderful 3 disc edition which collates all the available edits (including two Spanish versions which are known, hilariously, by the unexplained mis-crediting of the lead actor!?) and working them into a 'final' version hinted at by Welles' notes and conversations with the ubiquitous Peter Bogdanovich (who also features in the documentary, unsurprisingly). This 'final' version, while far from perfect, restores the original flashback structure as well as the original beginning and ending sequences. On the first disc, however, is the 'Corinth' version (originally discovered by Bogdanovich) that already incorporates some of the author's original intentions. This particular edit also features a highly illuminating commentary track by Welles scholars Jonathan Rosenbaum and James Naremore who consider this version to be the most satisfying. Also included are three mp3's of the aforementioned Harry Lime radio plays that had a direct influence on the story, featurettes by Welles biographer and actor Simon Callow, and a highly welcome reprint of the Mr. Arkadin novel (or novelisation? - you decide) with an excellent newly commissioned introduction by Robert Polito. All in all, this set is a must for the Welles aficionado and should be of interest to anyone with a true appreciation of cinema.