In regards to both Citizen Kane and Vertigo, it seems clear that we all generally define “best” as films that (A) reward multiple viewings, (B) radiate their makers’ reckless psychosexual will, (C) maintain at least some degree of thematic ambivalence, and (D) are uniquely packed like fruitcakes with subtexts, hidden meanings, dense visual ideas, and rafts of symbolic freight. And this is exactly why I prefer Kane over all films—no other film would meet the desert island test as handily.
Tag Archives: Citizen Kane
James comes down with a sudden case of Vertigo.
The difference between Citizen Kane and Vertigo is as stark as the difference between 1941, with its captive audience and its robust box-office, and 1958, when the studios were overhauling their business model in a panic. It’s the triumph of sunset over sunrise, decadence over youthful exuberance.
One of cinema’s uncanniest properties is the false sense of déjà vu it imparts in the viewer, making us feel like we’ve seen and experienced places and times in which we never existed. In his new weekly column, Here & Now & Then, Michael Koresky chooses a year from throughout film history, and examines three titles from that year, made as contemporary works, revealing that all films—even horror, fantasy, comedies, and melodramas—are in one way or another documentaries of their … Read More