Depicting the slow decline of a wealthy family, Orson Welles’ follow up picture to Citizen Kane, 1942’s The Magnificent Ambersons, provides us with a melancholic reflection on how the more simple life of the nineteenth century transitioned into a more hurried, less enjoyable one as the new century was ushered in.
We are transported into the socialite world of the Ambersons, a well-to-do American family living in the then small city of Indianapolis. Residing in a gargantuan mansion, the family sit at the top of the food chain when it comes to the pecking order in the area. Welles provides the voice-over narration as he introduces us to the family, including Isabel (Dolores Costello), daughter of patriarch Major Amberson (Richard Bennett), a young lady who is being courted by the thoughtful Eugene Morgan (Joseph Cotten). After a disastrous attempt at performing a serenade for her, the romantic man is shunned by the young debutante – she sees his failure as an ominous sign.
Instead, she marries Wilbur Minafer (Don Dillaway), a man that she does not love. Isabel has one son, the snooty, arrogant George Minafer (Tim Holt), whom she spoils. His high brow behaviour and lofty ideals cause discord in the community, with many hoping that they live to see the day that the boy has his comeuppance.
During one of his retreats from school, George’s family throws him a ritzy reception and ball in celebration of his return. Eugene, who left the city after the failed courtship with Isabel, returns twenty years later. His first appearance is as one of the invitees at the event, and his ‘and one’ is his lovely daughter Lucy (Anne Baxter). There is an immediate spark between Isabel and Eugene (despite the fact that she is married), as well as between their respective children. This leaves Aunt Fanny (Agnes Moorehead) flustered, as she has always been smitten with the gentleman.
George’s father dies soon after, and it becomes quite apparent that the youthful upper-class man is unimpressed by the friendship that has continued to blossom between his mother and Eugene (while she is still supposed to be in mourning), clearly disliking the man. This puts the two at odds as they pursue their respective love interests. George takes offence at most of what Eugene has to offer, including his profession. Eugene is an inventor who is ushering in the new era of the automobile, which George sees as a nuisance, being disruptive, as it will alter the quaint, comfortable, relaxed way of life that everyone enjoys.
After gossip begins to spread about the illicit meetings Isabel and Eugene have been enjoying, George snaps, attempting to cut all ties between the pair. His mother, caring too much for her son, acquiesces, joining him as they take a world tour. Prior to departing, George makes one final attempt to woo Lucy, though her cheerful facade regarding his departure places another divide between the very different couple.
Soon after starting their trip, Isabel falls ill, and the family fortune, or lack thereof, also comes into question.
Returning home, he is forced to take a risky job to help his failing Aunt Fanny, who is having a nervous breakdown. He tries to maintain some semblance of normalcy in a world that has changed so much in such a short time – hardly recognizing the picturesque small city that he once knew and loved, as it has become wholly industrial, chock full of factories and unfriendly modern infrastructure. Will he be able to survive the harsh transition that was ushered in by the automobile, or will he buckle under the weight of the stressful modern world?
Though Welles’ film was severely altered, with approximately an hours worth of footage having been deleted or re-shot (along with the original ending of the motion picture), what remains is still an enjoyable dramatic movie. And as you can likely imagine, things turned sour between Welles and film editor Robert Wise as well as star Joseph Cotten, who both sat on a committee created by RKO Studios that was put together to shorten the movie. It took Welles and Wise forty-two years to come to some sort of an understanding. Equally as distraught was legendary composer Bernard Herrmann, who was angered at how they had butchered his score through the editing process. Demanding that his name be removed from the credits, you may notice that the final scene seems somewhat disconnected from the rest of the film – this was because it was shot by assistant director Freddie Fleck (the lighting noticeably does not match) and the musical composition was not done by Herrmann.
Though many of the famed director’s favourite shots were ruined, including a long take of the ballroom sequence, which consisted of precisely choreographed moments as well as the use of a crane, there is still quite a bit of Welles’ skills on display. Beautifully lit and featuring many striking scenes, this depiction of an upper class gilded world that slowly cracks over time may not be as dark and bleak as first imagined, but it does still carry a certain dramatic heft.
Another thing of note is that the credits are narrated by Welles following the motion picture. Though, according to Welles, many complained about it, as they thought it was just him being egotistical; to me, it depicts the best way to honour those who have worked on a movie. Featuring images of each actor mixed with the voice over, as well as highlighting the technical credits of those who worked behind the camera, it reiterates the value of those professionals we often forget have had a hand in making a great film – the editor, cinematographer as well as countless others. It is also a handy way in which to learn the names of the actors in the film.
Despite all of the background issues, The Magnificent Ambersons was still nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Featuring a superb cast, stylized direction that captures the grandeur of the architecture and those living within it, as well as a solid story, Welles’ depiction of the Ambersons is a rich one. So, enter into this historic world to learn that ‘all that glitters is not gold’, and discover how time and money can make fools of us all.