
F FOR FAKE begins like a magic show. In fact, it has Welles asking for the loan of a personal item from someone's pocket; the ultimate illusionist's come-on! Welles is in a railway station; decked out in a black cloak, slouch hat and natty gloves -- every inch (and that's a LOT of inches) the magician ready to dazzle us.
A little boy gives the director a key from his pocket and Orson proceeds to prestidigitate. Now this is quite an important way to begin the film since it is concerned with fakes and fakery. Welles changes the
key to a coin and the key appears in the child's pocket. A transformation. A transformation before our very eyes. A woman (Welles' mistress Oja Kodar) leans out of a train window and says "Up to your old tricks, I see." Orson slyly replies: "Why not?!? I'm a charlatan."


This movie is a hell of a lot of fun. Orson lays it out. "Ladies and gentlemen, by way of introduction, this is a film about trickery. . .fraud. . .about lies. Tell it by the fireside or in a marketplace or in a movie; almost any story is almost certainly some kind of lie. But not this time. No, this is a promise: during the next hour everything you hear from us is really true -- based on solid facts." 
And those facts are about fakes. Specifically one Elmyr de Hory: one of the greatest art forgers of the 20th century. And then Clifford Irving: Elmyr's biographer.
Irving wrote a book about a fake and
then proceeded to become a fake himself by writing the famous fake biography of Howard Hughes with (he said) the reclusive millionaire's help. This was one of the biggest literary scandals of the 70's when Hughes came out of seclusion (albeit by telephone call) to deny he even KNEW Irving let alone helped with this fraudulent biography.




Famously, right in the middle of all this frivolity, Welles pauses and presents a startlingly beautiful rumination on Chartres Cathedral and the imperminence of human endeavor. The name of the designer -- the architect -- of Chartres Cathedral is not known to us yet the cathedral he made will outlast most other human endeavors. It really is quite startling in the emotional power of Welles' soliloquy and where he chooses to take us.
"Our works in stone and paint, in print, our spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millenium or two but everything must finally fall in war or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash. The triumphs and the frauds, the treasures and the fakes, A fact of life. We're going to die. 'Be of good heart' cry the dead artists out of the living past. 'Our songs will all be silenced. But what of it? Go on singing!'"





1 comment:
F For Fake was the first movie I ever taped on a VCR. Orson when he was playful was masterful.
BTW, I'm currently reading the second volume of Simon Callow's biography of Welles, "Hello Americans", which covers from The Magnificent Ambersons through to The Lady From Shanghai. Definitely recommend both Hello Americans and Orson Welles: The Road To Xanadu.
Post a Comment