I rented this movie one night because someone told me it was Orson Welles' masterpiece. I didn't know who Orson Welles was, but I figured I'd give it a shot anyway. Boy was that a bad decision.
This "movie" was not only directed by Orson Welles, he produced it, co-wrote it, and plays the lead. Hello? Ego trip? The movie opens with one of the film's most hilariously bad scenes. This guy dies (the death is shot through a snow dome, as if that makes it some sort of artistic milestone in cinematography) and utters the word "Rosebud." Next scene, newspapers are sending out reporters to find out what the word means. HELLO??? The guy was ALONE!!!! Who the heck heard him say that??
This is only the beginning of one long series of groan-inducing artsy stuff and unintentional laughs. Like, the movie doesn't play chronologically -- it's a bunch of disordered flashbacks and stuff. It seems like everybody's ripping off Tarantino these days.
The plot is boring. From what I gather, Welles plays Kane, this millionaire tycoon guy, and he was married and divorced a couple times, and yadda yadda yadda. I don't know about you, but I can imagine worse fates than being rich and influential. If this guy was an overworked textile mill employee, maybe I'd be more sympathetic toward the character. But the movie utterly fails to make us sympathize with its characters. Sheesh, Kane isn't even that much of a nice guy.
I give this movie two turkeys. There's some funny stuff, but mostly it's just sickening the way the director of photography (geez, that was probably Orson Welles too!) keeps pointing the camera every way but straight and calling it art.
And for those of you who haven't caught on yet, April Fools!