Why Richard Linklater thinks he’s had a better career than Orson Welles
Nothing will make you feel more unaccomplished than learning that Orson Welles made Citizen Kane, the film many consider to be the greatest of all time, at just 25. Migrating from stage and radio, Welles became an incidental cinema pioneer in the mid-20th century, only to be crushed under the weight of his own unsustainable legacy in the latter half. It’s this troubled career trajectory that Richard Linklater reflected on while promoting his film Me And Orson Welles in 2009.
Set a few years before Citizen Kane, the film focuses on Welles, played by Christian McKay, in full stage managerial phase, pulling together an innovative production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in New York. As the title indicates, the story is told not from Welles’ point of view but from that of the play’s rising star, played appropriately by Zac Efron in an early breakaway part from his High School Musical era.
Linklater and McKay’s version of Welles steers clear of the infamous caricatures his twilight years spent peddling champagne and photocopiers created. At the same time, the portrayal of unquestionable genius isn’t tempered by rose-tinted admiration; Welles is every inch an artist at war with his own ambition.
While the real Orson made 23 films during his lifetime, he passed away in 1985 with numerous unfinished projects. This included the experimental metadrama The Other Side Of The Wind, which was released in 2018 after 48 years in development. The aforementioned adverts were in aid of funding such projects, a testament to his passion for independent filmmaking even at the expense of reputational damage.
Linklater has worked consistently in the industry both in front of and behind the camera since the late 1980s. Though not every one of his films has been a critical and commercial hit, he’s proven to be steadfast but uncompromising in his output, crafting both mainstream feelgood fare like School Of Rock, propelling star Jack Black to even greater fame and becoming something of a cultural phenomenon, and boundary-pushing coming-of-age dramas like Boyhood, made over a period of ten years to accurately and intimately capture the experience of growing up.
When asked to compare himself to the subject of Me And Orson Welles by The Guardian, specifically if he thinks he’s had a ‘better’ career than Welles, Linklater points to the quantity rather than the quality of his filmography giving him the edge. He describes his work ethic as “promiscuous”, jumping from one piece of work to the next, in and out of different mediums and genres. “I’ve managed to get 15 movies made and I feel very lucky about that. It’s just that things have a way of pressing in on you”. Of course, that number is well over 20 now.
Sharing the same professional affinity, Linklater also pays tribute to Welles as the father of independent films: an artist who was able to work around the titanic Hollywood studio system in the 1930s and 40s well ahead of the rise of the ‘auteur’ filmmaker in the proceeding decades.
Welles is also hardly the first or last person to struggle with the weight of expectations after their first piece of art became their best. In Me And Orson Welles, Linklater gives the late, great director and performer an origin story that sits tantalisingly close to the cusp of his meteoric rise but also hints at his unfortunate burnout.
“One thing’s for sure,” Linklater laments in the interview, “It doesn’t get any easier.”
