Mo Kim

This spring, I’m taking a Intro to Film class for fun at my local community college! Each week, we’ll be watching and discussing a different film. Since I’m learning about this subject for the first time, I wanted to share what I think about each film here!

Note: this review spoils important plot points in the film.

Truthfully, I did not like Citizen Kane very much! After years of hearing it alluded to as one of the best films ever made, it’s surprising how one-dimensional some of its characters and plot points felt, particularly because it’s very easy right now to draw parallels between Charles Foster Kane and the power-hungry, thin-skinned tyrants currently taking a wrecking ball to our democratic system. But as with all things, I guess it helps to treat it as an artifact of a different historical period, where many of its technical and narrative features were genuinely groundbreaking in cinema.

That being said, here’s my biggest grievance with the film: Charles’ characterization. We all know it’s the sled. The meaning of “Rosebud” has been spoiled countless times by Internet comment sections, Family Guy, and even one high-school teacher who assumed I’d seen the film already. On one level, understanding how much Charles valued his childhood and how much losing his freedom and his family environment shaped him helps frame his self-destructive behavior throughout adulthood; on the other, the film refuses to interrogate or expand Charles’ identity beyond that original loss – the only glimpse of his childhood we get is the scene where he tries to smack a stranger with his sled, then dip – which makes “Rosebud” feel like a flat justification for heinous behavior. Plenty of people, myself included, have experienced difficult childhoods, and most of us have managed not to make it our entire personality (or worse, use it to demand uncritical adoration and compliance from our employees, partners, and the general public).

In fairness, however, Charles is intended to be a tragic figure. The film utilizes an archetypal three-act structure: the first act highlights his upbringing and gradual rise to power, helping us understand his motivations and psyche. The second act puts him to the test – which he fails miserably, sabotaging both his political career and first marriage through an ill-timed act of adultery (although this, too, ties back to his fundamental desire to be loved). Instead of confronting his shortcomings, Charles chooses to dig himself into a deeper hole, alienating his friends, manipulating the press, and forcing his second wife into an opera career nobody wants except for him. Only in the third act, once he’s lost everything, does he realize what truly mattered to him: authentic connection, without a price tag or strings attached. Unfortunately for him, he’s learned that lesson too late to put it into action, and by the time anybody gets around to investigating him, he’s dead and his most-prized possession is burning in a fire of other useless junk.

One aspect of Citizen Kane that does hold up, thankfully, is its cinematography. I was surprised at how many modern flourishes I saw, both in the ambitious camerawork and the staging of elaborate sets. During Susan Alexander’s debut opera performance, the camera pans upwards from the stage, passing the curtains and stage lights and eventually reaching the rafters…only to show two stagehands staring at each other, before one holds his nose in disgust. The shot is both a technical feat and a subversion of expectations, introducing viewers to a grand gesture just for the sake of a small joke. The most impressive moment comes near the end, where Charles destroys his second wife’s bedroom in a fit of rage just after she leaves him for good. Imagine how much work had to happen behind-the-scenes to nail the mise en scene: the tea cups had to be placed perfectly, the bedsheets folded just-so, the curtains tucked away…only for Orson Welles to wreck everything in just one take. (Maybe there’s a metaphor there, too, about how carelessly and thoughtlessly powerful men destroy things without understanding the hidden labor that goes into preserving them!)

So, yeah. Though I don’t like Citizen Kane, I still understand why it remains so significant as a boundary-pushing work of art and a commentary on power and corruption. It’s easy to compare Kane not only to corporate billionaires like Elon Musk, currently crying about how nobody wants to buy his cars on FOX News, but also to politicians claiming to be champions of the people (while sneaking out to the French Laundry). And maybe, in a moment where social media make corruption and abuse of power even easier to point out, it’s also easier for us as viewers to treat Citizen Kane as stating the obvious – we see people like Kane every day in our elections, in the 24-hours new cycle, and in our Twitter feeds.

It makes me wonder whether Musk has ever seen this film. If he has, he probably wasn’t paying enough attention.