Classic Review: The Magnificent Ambersons

Apparently Orson Welles’ favourite of his films, though marred by the butchering of the piece by studio RKO, The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) stars Tim Holt as George, the titular family’s spoiled brat of a son who attempts to ruin his mother’s ambitions to remarry. The strength of this performance is also a great problem with the film, as the character is irredeemable not in the same way as Jordan Belfort in The Wolf of Wall Street, but his annoying personality takes such a centre stage that we just don’t care if he finds redemption. The other characters are portrayed with brilliant accuracy and intensity, and the setting of the house becomes a great playground for Welles to direct some brilliant melodrama.

The staircase of the house, through tilts, becomes a ladder of different planes of action, and then a stage through the sweeping and circular camera movements. The film is undoubtedly a technical masterpiece, and I regret the individual shots that we have lost far more than the character beats and plot points. Many of the shots just appear to revel in the theatrical use of space, and it is a joy to see conflicts in the film propelling characters through the opulent rooms of the Amberson household. The editing repeats motifs and similar shots, defiantly ignoring the massive cuts that were imposed upon the film without Welles’ permission.

All of the cuts are a shame, because we never achieve the honesty of narrative tragedy offered by Kane or even Touch of Evil. With this lack of catharsis, it may seem as if I’m implying that the film is unsatisfying or dull, yet Welles imbues his film with a magnitude of pathos through the brilliant performances. Joseph Cotten’s character is the moral centre of the film, and the vehicle for our exploration of the damage of our lead’s actions. It’s really quite a grating and regrettable tragedy, yet it is believably human. The house, after the death of George’s mother, becomes Xanadu-like in its emptiness, even employing statues to litter one of the rooms. Eventually, the happy ending occurs in the reduction of this wealth and physical space.

In the end, Welles averts irony through a moral portrayal that never truly punishes its tragic hero. It is like Kane, just a portrait of a man, although it’s still a shame that this one is so utterly unbearable. In the original ending, Welles left the Aunt character in a boarding home, fully cementing the death of the family. It is a testament to the destructive nature of obstinacy. Of course, I can’t criticise the film based on the deleted scene, yet George has done enough damage to convey this already. Welles, in a simple, but rather smart move, uses the metaphor of the motor industry to illustrate the changes that George despises. The bitter irony and contradictory nature of a car injuring George may seem to confirm his suspicions, yet the constant theme of change in the film dispels this. It is all illustrated through a meticulous and beautiful mise-en-scène, and it is marvellous to see another thematically rich and excellent film from a director whose work was consistently tampered with. Most of Welles’ film work was treated disgracefully, yet it still stands far above almost anything else.