The Last Movie I Saw

Me and Orson Welles is the new movie by Richard Linklater, one of those handful of fimmakers whose work automatically goes on my must see list (along with John Sayles, Olivier Assayas... and that might be it nowadays). I don't think he's ever made a movie I didn't like, and he's made quite a number that I love (Dazed and Confused, School of Rock, Waking Life). In many respects, he represents a lot of the values I ascribed to Clint Eastwood in a previous post, though Linklater occasionally gets more experimental, as with Waking Life, A Scanner Darkly, and even (I think) Before Sunrise. His remake of Bad News Bears was the only misstep I can think of in his output, but even that was a solid effort-- it just didn't do anything to make its presence worthwhile as long as anyone remembered the original. Me and Orson Welles is certainly not very experimental-- just a darn tight coming-of-age story mixed with an examination of art and genius and the politics of ambition when the former two collide with realities of commercial entertainment. I found the performance by Christian McKay as Welles just stunning to watch, but the whole cast is equally good in conveying how a theatrical troupe battles to bring about something memorable on the stage while battling personal demons, intracast rivalries, and the often maddening quirks of their brilliant leader. I have no idea if Linklater has a background in theater, but he seems to have some real sensitivity to its unique features, especially in comparison to film (for example: being able to see the spit flying from Welles' mouth as he delivers a key, spot-lit speech from Julius Caesar, the play being staged in the story). One gets a real feel for the Depression era as well, and not just through costumes and art direction-- there's a very powerful sense of economic calculation in the motives and actions of various characters (most prominently in Clare Danes' Sonja), which was no doubt prevalent during those tough times. That main character Richard, played by Zac Ephron, betrays no such calculation, but that fits perfectly with his youth and inexperience-- he is committed to the spiritual dimensions of art, to the excitement elicited by beautiful words or music. It is to the movie's credit, and Linklater's (and, for that matter, Welles' too), that they ultimately fall on the same side as Richard in that regard, even as they demonstrate the difficulties of sustaining such a commitment in the face of so many challenges. It's a theme that Linklater examined in School of Rock as well, and while that earlier movie may have ended up a more standard crowd-pleaser (not least because of Jack Black's winning performance), I think Me and Orson Welles may be the richer overall film.