Summer Rerun: F For Fake (1974).

The busy minions at Desuko World HQ are taking a well-deserved summer vacation, so in the meantime, enjoy these favorite posts from the past. [Originally published Nov. 27, 2007]

The Scoop:
Orson Welles was the consummate trickster. Already a successful theater director, he burst into the public eye in 1939 with his infamous "War of the Worlds" radio broadcast, a pioneering piece of pseudo-documentary hucksterism. From there it was onto the capital of illusion, Hollywood, where he began a film career in which he repeatedly played with the audience's notions of the boundaries reality and imagination, and celebrated the power of magic.

In the documentary "F For Fake," which would ultimately prove to be his final directorial effort, he turns his lifelong fascination with trickery and illusion toward investigating the case of notorious art forger Elmyr de Hory and his equally notorious biographer (and Howard Hughes diary forger) Clifford Irving. As they tell their stories for his camera, Welles interweaves his own philosophizing on the power of fraud and the nature of art. Plus, as if that weren't enough, the careers of Hughes and Welles himself get mixed in for good measure.

And then there's the final 20 minutes or so, in which Welles detours into telling the story of Oja Kodar, which transcends all the indulgence and trickery that came before.

The result is an essay, really, more than a film -- but one that is sprawling and fascinating.

In the end, "F For Fake" becomes a fitting tribute to his career -- both thought-provoking and self-serving, dishing out equal parts brilliance and self-indulgence. And utterly ignored by the mainstream.

Best Bit:
There's lots of good, quotable stuff here, but the discourse on the cathedral at Chartes stands out.

Side Note:
The excerpt of "War of the Worlds" that Welles includes is actually a recreation, not the original broadcast, and even includes some rewritten lines.

Companion Listening/Viewing:
Welles' original "War of the Worlds" (1939) and "The Blair Witch Project" (1999).

Links:
IMDb.

Take a Look:
The trailer:


The Chartes monologue:

Manhatta (1921).

The Scoop:
The rise of modernism in art brought with it not only the elevation of abstract forms and structure, but also a faith in mechanical progress. The signature media of modernism -- photography, architecture and film -- celebrated modern machinery, the emerging American metropolis and the products of each. A bold new century required a bold new vision supplied by an energetic new generation artists. Among these were Paul Strand and Charles Sheeler.

Strand was a photographer whose pioneering work helped separate photography from the painterly conventions of the 19th century and establish its own aesthetic. While Sheeler was a photographer as well, his best known work came as a painter. But his canvases revealed a strong photographic sensibility at a time when most other painters were caught up in the maelstrom of cubism and, later, abstract expressionism.

Which brings us to "Manhatta," a collaboration between Strand and Sheeler meant to celebrate the modernist vision of New York City, with its new, towering skyscrapers and bustling population. Both artists were experimenting with motion pictures at the time and worked together compile this 10-minute short film, a collection of images of the city -- from the ships in its harbor, to the crowds in its streets, to its majestic skyline. The film is based on Walt Whitman's poem "Mannahatta," and excerpts from that work are used as intertitles.

While there are some impressive individual shots, they don't hang together as a narrative whole, particularly toward the end. And the intertitles just distract from the flow of the imagery. While "Manhatta" does not rank among Strand's or Sheeler's best work, it is a fascinating experiment from two great artists and also offers a great rare look at a much younger NYC.

Best Bit:
That one shot of the Brooklyn Bridge's supports, which is pure Strand.

Side Note:
"Manhatta" was added to the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress in 1995. By that point, the original negative of the film had long since been destroyed and only a single, damaged 35mm print was known to survive That print was used as the source for the digital restoration that's available today.

Companion Viewing:
"Koyaanisqatsi" (1982) -- although I love the fact that IMDb's automated recommendations include "Escape From New York" and Peter Jackson's remake of "King Kong."

Links:
IMDb.
Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Take a Look:
The full film, with a modern electronic soundtrack:


...and with a conventional soundtrack, if that's your preference:

F For Fake (1974).

The Scoop:
Orson Welles was the consummate trickster. Already a successful theater director, he burst into the public eye in 1939 with his infamous "War of the Worlds" radio broadcast, a pioneering piece of pseudo-documentary hucksterism. From there it was onto the capital of illusion, Hollywood, where he began a film career in which he repeatedly played with the audience's notions of the boundaries reality and imagination, and celebrated the power of magic.

In the documentary "F For Fake," which would ultimately prove to be his final directorial effort, he turns his lifelong fascination with trickery and illusion toward investigating the case of notorious art forger Elmyr de Hory and his equally notorious biographer (and Howard Hughes diary forger) Clifford Irving. As they tell their stories for his camera, Welles interweaves his own philosophizing on the power of fraud and the nature of art. Plus, as if that weren't enough, the careers of Hughes and Welles himself get mixed in for good measure.

And then there's the final 20 minutes or so, in which Welles detours into telling the story of Oja Kodar, which transcends all the indulgence and trickery that came before.

The result is an essay, really, more than a film -- but one that is sprawling and fascinating.

In the end, "F For Fake" becomes a fitting tribute to his career -- both thought-provoking and self-serving, dishing out equal parts brilliance and self-indulgence. And utterly ignored by the mainstream.

Best Bit:
There's lots of good, quotable stuff here, but the discourse on the cathedral at Chartes stands out.

Side Note:
The excerpt of "War of the Worlds" that Welles includes is actually a recreation, not the original broadcast, and even includes some rewritten lines.

Companion Listening/Viewing:
Welles' original "War of the Worlds" (1939) and "The Blair Witch Project" (1999).

Links:
IMDb.

Take a Look:
The trailer:


The Chartes monologue: