THE CITIZEN KANE CRASH COURSE

ON CINEMATOGRAPHY
A wildly fictional account of how Orson Welles learned everything
about the Art of Cinematography in half an hour. Or, was it a weekend?

By David Worth

Ship Date: August 08

Pub Date: September 08
Price: $19.95 US
ISBN: 9781932907469

Published by Michael Wiese Productions

Distributed by Ingram Publisher Services
CITIZEN KANE
THE

CRASH COURSE ON CINEMATOGRAPHY

A wildly fictional account of how Orson Welles learned everything
about the Art of Cinematography in half an hour. Or was it a weekend?

DAVID WORTH
TABLE OF CONTENTS
VIII FOREWORD by Bruce Campbell
X ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
XII PREFACE: “ The more things change
the more they stay the same”
1 ACT I: THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD
Welles & Toland / The Commissary /
The Award / The Whisky / The BS /
The Deal
17 ACT II: TOES, T%&T, TITS, TEETH
The Beverly Hills Hotel / The Brown Derby /
Musso & Frank / The Roosevelt / The Suite /
Camera / Magazine / Film / Lenses / 24mm /
50mm / 75mm / 100mm
49 ACT III: LET THERE BE LIGHT
Pinks / Natural Light / Unnatural Light /
Hard / Soft / Reflected / Key / Kick / Fill /
Only Six Places
67 ACT IV: OBJECTS AT REST OR IN MOTION
Santa Monica / The S.S. Rex / The Raid /
The Pig / Blocking / Coverage / Continuity /
Dolly / Track / Crane
91 ACT V: FRANKLY, ORSON, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN
The Lab / The Editing / The Sound /
The Premier / The Bar / The Exit
105 ACT VI: AN APPENDIX
Cinematography / Biographies and Filmographies /
Source Material / Tables and Charts /
130 ABOUT THE AUTHOR / Promotional
vii
WELLES ON THE RADIO / WAR OF THE WORLDS HEADLINE
ACT I
THERE BUT FOR THE
GRACE OF GOD
The Orson Welles phenomenon that swept across America in 1939, after he had unleashed
his radio play based on the H. G. Wells book War of the Worlds, was astounding, and the
executives in Hollywood basically saw nothing but big box office dollars looming up on
their horizons. So much so that RKO Studios more or less offered Mr. Welles carte blanche,
even tossing in the unheard-of addendum of having “Final Cut” on his very first
feature film. The additional perks, which enabled their new resident genius to remain

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 deliriously content, gorging himself on imported whiskey, filet mignon, and call girls in
the Presidential Suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel — well, this seemed to the RKO execu-
tives a small price to pay for having the Boy Wonder and their newly appointed Cash
Cow securely inside their darkened sound stages, making them a movie.
Gregg Toland was eleven years older than Mr. Welles who was just twenty-
five years old in 1940. Over the preceding twelve years, Toland had amassed more than
fifty feature film credits and by the age of only thirty-six he was already an Academy
Award–winning cinematographer. He was considered to be at the very top of his game
and was also thought to have few, if any, peers in the Hollywood community.
Still, even with all of that experience and adulation, Toland somehow knew that
if he attained this film with the “Boy Wonder,” Orson Welles, it would place him into
another league altogether. Maybe it was because of the stir that Welles had caused with his
War of the Worlds hysteria or maybe it was simply because of his age and the fact that he was
the youngest Hollywood director ever. Whatever the reason, and whatever the cost, Toland
knew that he had to photograph what would become Citizen Kane, and he had already
resolved not to let anything knock him off course
Toland had been around the block in Hollywood. He had seen and done plenty, so
he wasn’t easily shocked. He didn’t care if Welles was drunk, he didn’t care if Welles took
drugs, he didn’t care if Welles f#%ked every actress and actor in the Screen Actors Guild in
front of him twice, he didn’t even care if Welles donned a bed sheet with KKK scrawled

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on the front of it and then whistled “Dixie” out of his ass. Toland just didn’t care, he would
not be deterred, and nothing was going to keep him from his destiny.
Gregg Toland was born in May 1904 in Illinois, Orson Welles was born in May
1915 in Wisconsin. These two Midwest, middle Americans guys, who were already titans
of entertainment, Welles in the theater and radio and Toland in the movies, were about to
join forces. The result would become what most experts on “The Cinema” still consider to
be “The Best Film Ever Made” and most certainly the most advanced piece of cinematic
art that had been created up to, including, and well beyond that point in time.

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Int. — RKO Commissary — Day
Gregg Toland cautiously approaches Orson Welles at his corner table in the commissary. It
is already after lunch and the place is nearly empty, except for Mr. Welles who is presently
having his second rib eye steak cooked rare and is washing it down with a tumbler glass of
whiskey, while behind him a tuxedoed waiter stands dutifully by. In one graceful motion
Mr. Toland places his Academy Award down on the table.

Gregg
That’s the Academy Award, Mr. Welles.

Orson
I know what the f#*k it is, Gregg, I’ll have
three of those doozies by this time next year.

Gregg
I won it working with Willy Wyler... I
should have won it working with Mr. Ford...
and I’d like to win another one working with
you, Mr. Welles.

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 Orson
Only three great American Directors, Gregg...
John Ford, John Ford, and John Ford.

Gregg
I won’t argue with you... but I think that I can
help you become the next great American
Director, Mr. Welles.

Mr. Welles liked the sound of that; he liked it well enough to refrain from placing the
next morsel of rare rib eye into his mouth, smile and unctuously gesture for the Academy
Award-toting cameraman to sit down.

Orson
Sit, Gregg... have a drink.

Gregg
Whatever your having, Mr. Welles, only
I’ll have a double.

Mr. Welles regarded his tumbler glass of whiskey as though he had just been given a
challenge, albeit one that he could easily handle and no doubt better.

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 Orson
Spoken like a true professional... Hastings...

Hastings, who gave the impression that he had been predestined by The Creator to fawn
over the Boy Wonder’s every culinary desire, flicked a bit of lint off of his impeccable
tuxedo, then adeptly poured Mr. Toland two large glasses of whiskey. Gregg immediately
polished off half of the first glass and smiled at Mr. Welles.

Gregg
Fifty films, Mr. Welles, I’ve already done
fifty feature films and most of them were
pretty big deals too.

Orson
Bullshit. Most of them were studio drivel
and you know it. The only good ones were
Les Miserables, Dead End, Wuthering Heights,
and The Grapes of Wrath.

Gregg forces a half smile and then finishes off his first glass of whiskey.

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 Gregg
Thanks for giving me credit for four films
out of the fifty... By the way I got most of
my acclaim for one of the films that you
apparently didn’t like, The Long Voyage Home.

Mr. Welles savors another succulent bite of rare rib eye before answering.

Orson
Too homoerotic for my taste, Gregg... big men...
on a big boat... big deal.

Gregg
And they say Mr. Ford is an SOB.

Orson
Do they? Then maybe that’s what it takes.

Gregg starts in earnest on his second glass of whiskey as he casually cleans a smudge off
his Academy Award and muses to himself.

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 Gregg
It’s not all that complicated, Mr. Welles.

Orson
Oh, for Christ’s sake, Gregg call me Orson.
All this “Mr. Welles, The Boy Wonder” stuff is
just so much bullshit.

Gregg
That’s not what Mankiewicz says.

Mr. Welles smiles at the mention of his maverick co-screenwriter on Citizen Kane and
gestures for more whiskey. Hastings never misses a beat as he silently and precisely refills
the Boy Wonder’s glass, then turns to the Academy Award winner. Gregg nods and he also
receives another brimming glass of the imported spirits.

Orson
Herman, that lush... so what does the
“Oracle of the San Fernando Valley”
have to say?

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 Gregg
Mank’ says whenever he sees you prowling
the various sound stages with your cape blowing
in the wind, “There but for the grace of God...
goes God!”

Orson chortles loudly, causing Hastings to imperceptibly raise an eyebrow as Mr. Welles
then hastily sops up the succulent remnants from his rib eye with several pieces of sourdough
bread, and not wanting to waste a drop of the amber sauce hurries them into his mouth.

Orson
The old f#%ker’s probably right.

Orson pauses to swallow the tasty morsels, then he locks eyes with Gregg who attentively
waits for Mr. Welles to continue.

Orson
You want to shoot my movie, right, Gregg?
And by the way what’s... “not all that
complicated?”

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 Gregg
Yes, I want to shoot your movie... and
learning how to make movies, Orson, it’s
actually not all that complicated.

Orson
Fine. Here’s the deal then... I know nothing
at all about filmmaking... I’ve got a big ego
and a bigger IQ, I’m a quick study and I want
you to teach me what you know.

Gregg leans back savoring the moment, weighing the offer. Then he takes a long, slow
quaff of his whiskey.

Gregg
That’s really the reason that I want to work
with you, Orson... because the only way to
learn something... is from someone who
doesn’t know anything.

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 Orson smiles at this young man’s wisdom and insight as Gregg takes another slug of
whiskey and continues.

Gregg
Cinematography, Mr. Welles... Orson... it’s like
becoming a concert violinist... it takes a lifetime
of... practice... of sacrifice... of dedication...

Orson
OK, that’s the “Life magazine” answer Gregg...
Now cut the bullshit and give it to me straight...
How long?

Gregg sees that Mr. Welles is deadly serious. He takes a deep breath, then glances at
Hastings, who knowingly nods, then turns and busies himself with a bottle of bitters.
Gregg guardedly looks around the empty commissary to make sure that nobody hears
what he’s about to say, then he leans in close and whispers.

Gregg
Two days...

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