Rating: 3.5/5
Criterion Challenge 2024 | 36/52 | Genre: Made for TV
In China, on the Portuguese island of Macau, there lived until the end of the last century an immensely rich merchant whose name was Mr. Clay. He had a magnificent house and a splendid equipage, and he sat in the midst of both, erect, silent, and alone.
Mr. Clay once had a business partner named Louis Ducrot, whom Mr. Clay bankrupted and threw into the street. Louis committed suicide, and his daughter, Virginia, ran off with a sea captain. Clay took over Louis’ house, where he now lives.
His gout kept him up at night, so his bookkeeper, Elishama Levinsky, would read the old account books to him. Tired of these, Levinsky reads a prophecy from the Bible. However, Mr. Clay believes the only thing one should ever write down is what has already happened. Mr. Clay recalls a story about a wealthy older man who pays a sailor five guineas to impregnate his wife. But Levinsky finishes the story, having heard it from other seafarers, and assures Clay that this story has not happened either.
So, the film follows Clay and Levinsky as Levinsky works to make the story happen and, therefore, true. For the role of the wife, Levinsky knows just who to hire: Virginia Ducrot.
This film is a dramatic departure for Orson Welles in several ways. Most notably, it is Welles’s first movie filmed in color and the last fictional film he made in color. While the camera sometimes makes a quick cut, most scenes are shot with straightforward compositions and prolonged takes.
The script follows the story on which it’s based, by Danish writer Karen Blixen—this includes the repetitious nature of Clay’s speech, reflecting his fixations and inability to accept a world that does not mirror his notion. The circuitous patterns create a consistent rhythm that gives the film a parable-like quality.
The score is sparse but primarily uses Erik Satie’s compositions. While this is a tired cliche now, this film was the first to do it, setting the now-overused trend.
Perhaps these deviations from Welles’s proclivities helped me enjoy this movie more than his other work from the period. This film does, however, lead into Welles’ fixation on the line between story and reality, which he explores in exhaustive detail in his documentary F for Fake.