I liked best when he suddenly said of himself, “I have a touch of rhinestones in my blood," meaning he is part-charlatan. 125 Welles (1951) as retranslated in Appendix D.
126Margaret Brenman-Gibson, Clifford Odets (New York: Atheneum, 1981), 407n.
127Odets (1988), 285-286.
Odets confesses that this conversation had “depressed me because I want to do and be all the things he is being and doing. ... I found that I disagreed with everything Welles said and I like him in spite of that. He is a very octopus of ego, but for all of that there is a good side to him, a sense, for instance, of humble people. A communion of intelligence is possible with him." Odets' final thoughts on Orson, true of both men, were perceptive to the point of foresight: “[H]e also is in opposition to all the values around him, even though they may finally swallow him up."
* * * Orson met Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong, the great and popular jazz and swing trumpeter, singer, band leader. It was late 1940 and Armstrong had just arrived on the West Coast on a transcontinental tour. They agreed to do a movie about Armstrong’s life as a jazzman. Next year this project, tentatively called “Jazz Story”, will become part of Orson’s never realized four-part omnibus movie titled It’s All True.128
By Christmas Orson had moved residence to a rented house in West LA. And his affair with Dolores del Río became even more open following her divorce from Gibbons on 17 Jan 1941.
NATIVE SON ON BROADWAY
That same January (1941) Citizen Kane had its first private screenings (without the music) for the media. The secret was out: Kane was largely based on newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Kane was about to be lynched. Hearst's threats of a libel suit and hints of blackmail had succeeded in getting RKO to seriously consider shelving, even burning, the film. While Orson, accompanied by Dolores del Río, was back in New York City (he'd gone there on February 11th to direct rehearsals of the play of Native Son) he held a press conference on the March 11th in his Ambassador Hotel suite counter-threatening RKO (and Hearst) by announcing he was prepared to buy Kane from RKO and take it on the road himself, acting as his own booker. He would tour the movie in person and, for good measure, put on his magic act.129 His Mercury publicity agent, Herbert Drake, explained that, if theaters wouldn't book Kane, it would be shown “in tents" and that Orson “would probably open it at Soldiers' Field on four screens and saw Dolores [del Río] in half at each intermission."130
Orson's threat to buy and exhibit the film was pure bluff—he had the legal right to do so, but only if he could repay RKO's production costs of $805,528, which he couldn't. He was just playing out part of a brilliantly devious scenario cooked up by his Mercury lawyer Arnold Weissberger to shield RKO corporate Vice-President Schaefer from the controlling stockholders.131
Although Orson credited Weissberger with this ploy, he later claimed that another ruse of his own contrivance had spared Kane from being literally burned. To get much-needed support for his movie among the Hollywood elite, an almost nightly series of private previews were given for them throughout February and March.132 Presumably it was one of these special screenings that was seen by Joseph Ignatius Breen, the Production Code Administration’s powerful boss. Orson won over the super-devout Irish-Catholic censor by “accidentally" dropping at Breen's feet a rosary that he'd brought along for just that purpose.133 True? Perhaps.
128 Laurence Bergreen, Louis Armstrong (New York: Broadway Books, 1997), 427, 428.
129Variety, 12 Mar 41, p.6; LIFE, 26 May 41, 108.
130Fowler (1946), 45.
131Leaming (1985), 209-210.
132Carringer (1985), 115.
* * * While still in New York that March Orson took time out one night to catch the act of his former “Unholy Five" pal John Scarne at the swank Versailles Club where Scarne was headlining with his slick magic act. Orson cheerfully stooged for a publicity photo, feigning a suitably baffled look while Scarne, his thumbs tied together, impossibly yet visibly loops a solid hoop through his arms.134 Orson would have known the secret of the Thumb Tie, originally invented (or, at least, independently invented) in Japan, whence it had been brought to the West in 1901 by the great Japanese magician Ten-Ichi.
While readying Citizen Kane for its eagerly awaited release, Orson became simultaneously involved in three major theatrical projects. It is eloquent proof against the revisionist claims that Kane was just some lucky fluke. Had Kane never been, Orson's reputation would still have soared again that year.
The high point was a new play, Native Son, a somber tale of a Negro in New York who murders a white woman, is caught, tried, and executed. Based on the best-selling Book-of-the Month Club novel by black author Richard Wright, it was rewritten for the stage by Wright and white Pulitzer Prize playwright Paul Green. Wright had been a member of the U.S. Communist Party since 1932 and would remain so until, disillusioned by the evidence of the CP's cynical manipulation of blacks, his break in 1942.
With stage and movie producers clamoring for this controversial novel, Wright picked Houseman and Orson because he was satisfied they would faithfully interpret his book.135 He attended several rehearsals and was fascinated and horrified to observe Orson's madcap behavior as director — shouting, demanding, coaxing, encouraging, exciting, and exhausting his actors. Orson's assistant, Jack Berry, recalled, "You had to be prepared to take such an enormous amount of guff and madness from him."136 Houseman consistently portrays Orson as abusing his casts and crews during all his rehearsals. But this was not the view of these same alleged victims. Berry explained, "He commanded complete devotion to the work and that's what he gave. But he made you feel a part of it."137 And, as we'll see, this was the assessment of all who are on record except Houseman, Feder, and, later, actress Dorothy Comingore. Why these three? Perhaps because they were the only ones that their colleagues have called "masochists".
Wright was content to just watch Orson direct. Nor, despite their common love for literature and jazz and blues, did these two men socialize. Still, Wright was impressed enough to tell the New York World-Telegram's reporter that, “One Orson Welles on earth is enough. Two of them would no doubt bring civilization itself to an end."138
133 OW in 1969 in Welles & Bogdanovich (1992), 46-47. Orson’s story is plausible, at least as to timing. Breen would announce his intended resignation from the Production Code Administration in mid-April 1941and later that month RKO announced his hiring to head production. The actual switch of jobs took place in mid-June. Breen held that position until May 1942.
134 John Scarne, The Odds Against Me (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1966), photo caption between pp.252-253.
135Rowley (2001), 203-204.
136Berry interview in McGilligan & Buhle (1997), 64
137Berry interview in Faingold (1998),
138Wright newspaper interview as quoted in Rowley (2001), 242.
Several of Orson's old Mercurians were recruited as crew and cast, including ex-prizefighter Canada Lee in the title role. Orson applied himself to this production as vigorously as with any of his earlier plays, including the set design and lighting (again with Jean Rosenthal). And once more Orson broke the conventional theatrical “frame" by extending several scenes into the audience.
To give the stage hands more needed practice on the quick and tricky scene changes opening night was postponed twice — until March 24th. The theater was packed with a strange mix of Park Avenue swanks, Harlem blacks, and Communist faithful trying to look international when Orson swept down center aisle with the spectacular Dolores del Río. Enthusiastic applause marked every scene until final curtain when the cheering audience demanded 15 curtain calls. Most critics raved. Atkinson of the New York Times calling it "the biggest American drama of the season.” The New York World-Telegram grudgingly but unequivocally proclaimed Orson "the greatest theatrical director of the modern age." Although the mostly conservative Urban Leaguers were offended by the ugly portrayal of a black antihero in black squalor and the most radical Communists were une
asy with the lack of Marxist rhetoric, the play was a stunning success.139
Next day Dolores flew back West, leaving Orson to attend to his play, which he soon passed direction of along to his capable stage assistant, Jack Berry. This was the last time Berry would work with Orson, but he would credit Orson with having given the training that led to his later long successful career as a movie director in Hollywood and France where he made such celebrated films as He Ran All the Way (1951) and Claudine (1974).140
He [Orson] was a volcano of energy and a creative giant, whether you like Citizen Kane or not. ... He showed me the sense of creating a unified and total work from the smallest detail to the most extravagant needs.
Houseman also left Orson — this time to Hollywood to work for David O. Selznick. To Orson's relief this would be the last project they'd work on together. This final break has led to yet another Orsonian myth — that Houseman had been the only thing holding Orson from flying apart. This was a myth begun by Walter Kerr (in 1951), Koch, and Houseman and seized upon by Orson's other eager deconstructors and even some ill-informed friends. These latter included old associates such as Jack Berry who didn't share Orson's later successes and overly trusted the detractors, particularly his friend Houseman. The supposed proof: Everything went downhill after Houseman. In fact, Orson's first break with Houseman in Spring 1941 had been long overdue. His second film masterpiece, The Magnificent Ambersons, was done with zero input from Houseman. Nor should we forget that Houseman himself had participated in the fiasco of the Mercury's last stage season on Broadway in 1938-39. In fact, all went quite well without Houseman from March 1941 until February 1942 when Orson left Hollywood for Brazil. And even after, for the next 43 years despite many difficulties, some delays, and a few outright failures, we'll watch Orson manage several brilliant coups as actor, director, producer in radio, films, and TV and on stage.
* * * Orson seldom resisted pulling off private jokes even in such serious projects as Native Son. There, in a tenement set, he’d added a child's sled with the fictitious brand name “Rosebud"—five weeks before the public release of Citizen Kane when this mysterious word would flood the nation's movie screens. Another, much subtler example is that almost forgotten second sled in Kane, the one that young Kane gets as a Xmas present from his guardian, Thatcher. Wondering if it also bore a brand name, film historian James Naremore examined the scene frame-by-frame. There, in too few frames for even the quickest movie-goer's eye to spot on screen, was the word “Crusader" and a knight's helmet logo, foreshadowing the adult Kane's cultivated image as a crusading journalist and politician.141
139Rowley (2001), 246; Houseman (1972), 472-475.
140Berry interviews in McGilligan & Buhle (1997), 65, and Faingold (1998). The names of Orson's close associates and favorite places get recognition: In Kane, family friend Whitford Kane's surname is borrowed for Charles Foster Kane; Dr. Bernstein contributes Mr. Bernstein; Hortense Gettys Hill lends her maiden name to Jim Gettys; and Mank’s secretary, Rita Alexander, who'd typed the first draft of Kane contributes her's to Susan Alexander. In addition Broadway producer Jed Harris and Jo Cotten's Hollywood agent Leland Hayward meld into Jo's role as Jedediah Leland. In “His Honor, the Mayor” radio script Joe and Sara Mankiewicz become “We only got one Jewish family in the county –- the Mankiewicz’s”. In Ambersons Shifra Haran becomes “Miss Haran, Head Nurse" on a hospital sign (added by jokester Jack Moss in Orson's absence). In The Stranger, Anthony “Coach" Roskie's surname turns up on a gymnasium bulletin board and Orson's prep school is honored on banners that read “Harper vs. Todd".
* * * On March 25th while still in New York directing Native Son Orson revised his third and last untitled continuity script (168 pages) tentatively titled “Mexican Melodrama”. This was based on English writer Arthur Calder-Marshall's recent thriller novel, The Way to Santiago. Orson had added the key plot elements of the protagonist's amnesia and remade the villain from a British journalist and (Nazi secret agent) into an English traitor, a Lord Haw-Haw type fascist radio propagandist trying to foment a coup in Mexico that would spread throughout the Americas.
Plagiarizing from himself, he rewrote the ending to have this drama climax with a radio broadcast. The protagonist-narrator (Welles) escapes from his fascist captors and forces his way into the villain’s secret radio station to broadcast a warning to all North America of their plot. He begins:
You haven't any reason to believe me. But this time you've got to. I'm telling the truth. ... Listen! Listen to this. (Effect) Hear that sound? The sound of ticking? (Pause—Effect very clear) That's a time bomb. I don't know just when it's going to explode. But I think that there'll be just enough time for me to tell you about [the plot]. ... I want you to know all about [it] before I die. You see, I'm going to die any minute now because I'm holding the time bomb in my hand.
As he proceeds to expose the plotters and their plan, the film inter-cuts scenes of transfixed radio listeners from Brazil through Mexico to the United States. Everyone, from common citizens to national leaders, resolve to take action. The listening villains realize that they’ve been exposed and will be caught. At this point the protagonist's voice is cut off in mid-sentence, the broadcast ending in sudden, complete silence. The camera cuts to an American home whose family had been tuned in. The father pronounces the epitaph: “That must have been an awful explosion."
141Naremore (1978/1989), 53.
But the scene has a final surprise. The camera dissolves back to the radio studio where Welles stands by the microphone. In one hand he holds a ticking alarm clock.
Although this film project had strong commercial possibilities, it was cancelled by RKO in preproduction because of the high budget estimate. Orson’s choice of this project’s anti-Nazi theme was significantly timed. It came six months after arch-enemies Stalin and Hitler surprised the world by signing their non-aggression pact. Although portrayed as a pact of Peace, a cynical secret clause divided Poland between the two dictators and led directly to World War II. And Orson's script came 15 months before Hitler broke that pact by his surprise attack on the Soviet Union. The intervening months marked the period of open Nazi-Communist collaboration. During this obscene honeymoon all Communist Party members and “fellow-travelers” who accepted Communist discipline were required to avoid anti-Nazi propaganda and oppose American intervention on the side of imperialist Britain and France. Orson had stood his liberal democratic ground and refused to wave the red banner of Communism—a point missed by an overzealous FBI.
Still in New York City 13 days after he’d finished the Mexican Melodrama script, Orson presented a remarkably revealing radio play. It appeared in a unique series on CBS titled The Free Company Presents. The brainchild of American progressive journalist and novelist James Boyd, it presented 10 radio drama by as many writers. These ten (plus the three who had to withdraw) were The Free Company. They (and the actors) were “unpaid, unsponsored and uncontrolled.” Orson’s fellow writers were Maxwell Anderson, Sherwood Anderson, Stephen Vincent Benét, James Boyd (as Chairman), Marc Connelly, Paul Green, Archibald MacLeish, William Saroyan, and Robert E. Sherwood. Ernest Hemingway, Elmer Rice, and George M. Cohan were willing but unable to contribute. This is a particularly interesting cluster of names because all were solid middle-of-the-road liberals –- not a right winger or Communist among them. Indeed, several were now openly opposing the Communists, Hemingway having broken over Spain and Sherwood over Finland. Indeed, the Free Company’s secret backers were, according to Connelly, the U.S. Department of State and the Roosevelt’s Attorney-General, Francis Biddle.142
Orson’s contribution was an original drama that he wrote, directed, and narrated. He wrote it in Hollywood during the final days of editing Citizen Kane. The 30-minute program was broadcast by CBS at 2 PM (EST) on Sunday, April 6th. Orson not only volunteered his services but that of several of his Mercurians. These were Ray Collins (as Mayor Naggs), Agnes Moorehead, Paul Stewart, Erskine Sanford, Everett Sloane, and Richard
Wilson —- all were then with Orson in New York acting in or working on Native Son.143
Orson’s unpaid contribution to this show is our best evidence of his political beliefs. It proves that he was not merely a devout anti-fascist but a true free-speech libertarian –- one who holds that the right of Americans to free speech and free assembly are so precious that they must not be denied even to, as his script proclaimed, “the worst lice”. And these “lice” are explicitly identified as racists (white supremacists), religious bigots (anti-Semites & anti-Catholics), xenophobes (isolationists, which then included the Communists), free-enterprise union busters, and even political subversives (fascists and Nazis). The Hearst press and the American Legion attacked Orson (and the Free Company).
142On The Free Company see Connelly (1968),239-242..
143Brady (1989), 289-292; Wood (1990), 113-115; Rosenbaum in Welles & Bogdanovich (1992), 362-364.
The Communists were, I assume, embarrassed by Orson’s breaking ranks to specifically attack the isolationists and Stalin’s new Nazi ally:144
Those nuts! ... that’s what they said in Germany! — about the Nazis a while ago when Adolph Hitler was still on a soap-box. Nor would Communists appreciate his stance on free speech and assembly as other than a useful tactic until their own gang came into power. It is shameful to find so many modern leftist social historians dodging the implications of the Stalin-Hitler honeymoon, which ran the 22 months from September 1939 until June 1941. This was a watershed that shattered the original world-wide Popular Front that had drawn liberals, anarchists, socialists, and Communists together in the early to late 1930s to resist the rise of fascism and Nazism. Thus such histories as Ceplair & Englund’s The Inquisition in Hollywood (1980), Nancy Schwartz’s The Hollywood Writers’ Wars (1982), and McGilligan & Buhle’s Tender Comrades (1997) – even Michael Denning’s otherwise informed study, The Cultural Front (1996), fail to note that Orson, along with most libertarians, socialists, and anarchists, dropped off the red “bandwagon” when Stalin allied himself with Hitler to carve up Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe.
Orson Welles - The Man Who Was Magic: Part 1 Page 18