Reactions to 'The Other Side of the Wind'

[nickleschichoney]

I find myself wondering if this could have had something to do with the snub:
https://vimeo.com/71971609

I don't know if the Academy is that thin-skinned.

[RayKelly]

I don't know if the Academy is that thin-skinned.

Agreed.
Like the Academy, the major Guild's — Screen Actors, Editors, Cinematographers, Directors and Producers — all snubbed The Other Side of the Wind. IMHO, I think their interest was focused on folks in the here and now, and not a long-deceased filmmaker, no matter how great he was.
BTW, two ACE members told me they thought professional jealousy played a role in guild members not nominating Bob Murawski.

[Le Chiffre]

I'm assuming they meant professional jealously in Murawski having landed the plum assignment of editing an Orson Welles film? It would be interesting to hear some other editors say what they thought of Murawski's work in Wind.

Welles had a low opinion of the Oscars anyway. From Leaming's book:

"My feelings about Hollywood are at their lowest around Academy Awards time - probably from sour grapes, but there it is. I suddenly think...why am I in this business?"

KOZAK'S CLASSIC CINEMA on Wind:
https://www.kozaksclassiccinema.com/the ... wind-2018/

In spite of its sometimes morose and serious nature, The Other Side of the Wind is fundamentally a playful movie, one that teases us frequently by inviting us to feel as if we can identify vestiges of Welles, other figures, and real-life relationships in the performances. But over the course of the movie, our ability to say with confidence that there is a direct correspondence between what we see on-screen and what we suspect is true off-screen is on shaky ground.

[Byron Stayskal]

A few posts back, on February 17th, Wellesnet member Le Chiffre relayed an interesting anecdote about a friend who had seen TOSOTW, liked some of the performances, but commented that “it seemed like a bewildering hodgepodge of half-baked ideas.” I had a similar experience when a good friend of mine described the film as “muddled and choppy… and generally depressing.” We’ve also seen negative reviews (and even some positive ones!) that characterize the film as “a mess.”

These and similar comments make me wonder whether a major stumbling block to appreciating TOSOTW isn’t really the film’s story, themes, or occasionally “bitter” tone but instead a lack of understanding of its form. And the term “understanding” doesn’t need to imply something conscious and analytical (though that can help) but simply having a feeling or sense for how the film’s parts are put together. If one doesn’t perceive the film’s form, it’s not surprising if the film seems formless. And without a sense of form, so many great moments and subtle interconnections are lost in what seems to be (but isn’t) a messy muddle. So, if I may, I’d like to take up Le Chiffre’s question of how to respond to criticisms like "TOSOTW is a bewildering mess.”

But first of all, I think it’s important to address a stylistic issue. Many seem to count “choppiness” as a major flaw of TOSOTW. The criticism, however, is a bit like faulting the painter Seurat for using all those little colored dots to make his paintings. But that, after all, is the point of pointilism. So, it’s not quite fair to imply that TOSOTW is somehow flawed because of it its “choppy” or “cutty” qualities when this very effect was what Welles’s intended, and in creating it, he was wildly successful. Better to think of the “choppy” sections as a kind of mosaic. In a mosaic, all the discrete bits of stone come together into a unified whole without quite losing a sense of the hard little elements that are its constituent parts.

As for the film's formal structure, I'd say it's basic pattern is: intro, fast, fast, slow, fast. The Bogdanovich narration and the opening credits serve as a kind of entrance into the film proper. Then the first section of the film includes action on the studio lot, the screening with the studio head, and the cars and bus driving to the ranch. This section is fast-paced and full of cuts and lasts about 20 minutes. Even though the film within the film is generally quite languid in pace, the sections of it shown to Max the studio head tend to be the faster parts (such as John Dale on his motorcycle). The next section is marked by the cars with their starry headlights arriving at dusk. The section is also quite fast and frenetic with lots of cuts, color to black-and-white changes, hand-held camera work, and prominent rack focusing. This second section lasts about 10 minutes. I would mark the beginning of the next and slower section with the words and then the appearance of Jake’s fixer, Matt informing Jake that John Dale hadn’t run away from a reformatory but had graduated from a fancy boarding school. This slower section, which lasts about an hour, isn’t always slow but overall the pace is more measured, and scenes are spun out at greater length. This section is also quite complicated and full of variety because it brings together long sections of Jake’s art film, two black outs, intimate dialogues as well as party banter, an assault, and even a spontaneous group song. Most of the powerful (and uncomfortable!) dialogue occurs in this portion of the film.

As Jake starts shooting the dummies, the action once again picks up, and this marks a new section. I could, however, also see the shooting as the violent outburst that ends the emotionally fraught middle section and the setting off of the fireworks as the true beginning of the last and faster paced section of the film. The characters of Brookes Otterlake and Billy Boyle become quite prominent, often in scenes with each other, and form a kind of back and forth contrast with other strands of the action and the film within the film which is then shown (out of order!) at the drive in. And so it all boils down to: intro, fast, fast, slow, fast. Or, if you take the first two fast sections together, you could simplify things further to "fast, slow, fast" with an introduction.

In Filming Othello, Welles expressed an idea that seems to me quite important in understanding any of his films, namely, that “a film is never right until it’s right musically” (which seems all the more significant in light of his own musical talent and childhood training). As I was trying to see an overall formal pattern in TOSOTW, it suddenly occurred to me that the film was rather like a three-movement sonata or a piano concerto (especially those with introductions, like Beethoven’s 4th & 5th piano concertos). The first movement is faster, introduces themes, and then develops them. This corresponds to the first fast section of the film where everyone’s talking about Jake and then to the second fast section which develops those themes as we observe Jake at the party. The second movement of a sonata or concerto is slower, often an “adagio.” As the form developed, some composers made the slow movement the emotionally more weighty section of the piece. That’s certainly what we have in TOSOTW. Finally, there’s the last movement of a sonata or concerto which is faster and lighter and often takes the form of a rondo. A rondo introduces a main theme, then alternates it back and forth with a variety of other themes. At first I thought I was probably pushing the musical analogy too far to look for an actual rondo rather than just a faster lighter contrast to the preceding slower section, but then I noticed how Brooksie and Billy kept coming back like the primary theme in a rondo.

I don’t know how much appeal the sonata/concerto analogy will have, but I found it helpful so I've included it in case others might find it at least suggestive. And, of course, I’m not at all saying that this is what Welles had in mind, or that he ever sat down and said: “and now I will compose a sonata in film!” (although I could imagine him saying such a thing and then roaring with laughter). Also, one could throw away the whole musical analogy and still see the basic formal pattern described above.

A proper discussion of TOSOTW’s formal structure deserves at least a full essay or an article (that became more and more obvious to me the longer I worked on this post), but in the meantime, perhaps these preliminary thoughts can add another strategy for appreciating the film, that is, not just through its themes, narrative, and performances but also through its remarkable “musical” form. And for those interested in the latter, I’ll list below the minute marks for the different sections I’ve described. I took them from my digital download of TOSOTW, but I imagine they would match up fairly closely to what’s on Netflix.

Intro: 1:06-3:09-4:32 wrecked car, narration, opening credits

Fast: 4:32-24:09 at the studio, film within the film, cars & bus to the house
Fast: 24:09-34:08 at the party, dialogue snippets, about the film, Jake & guests

Slow 34:09-1:38:09 longer dialogues, film within the film, blackouts, group song

Fast: 1:38:09-1:57:51 shooting dummies, fireworks, leave for drive-in, film at drive-in

[jbrooks]

Byron Stayskal, that's an interesting take. I need to think about it more.

As one of those who has (somewhat lovingly) referred to the film as "a mess" or partially a mess, I think that term is generally used as a surface-level description of film. Thus, I'm not sure your detailed analysis of the structure really responds to those points. To me, the things that make it somewhat of a mess are the (1) at times muddy soundtrack, (2) editing/blocking errors and violations of the 180 degree rule, (3) the way characters suddenly appear in scenes even though they were not present in preceding shots, (4) the pieced-together ending that suggests that Jake is still at the drive-in after sunrise after implying that he left in the dark, (5) the odd non-dramatic presentation of the main storyline about Jake learning Dale's true backstory, which fails to include any final confrontation with Dale.

In short, in my view, I don't think the film's messiness can be refuted. I think perhaps it can be defended as a style choice (though I don't think Welles intended to break the 180 degree rule when he did -- I think those were mistakes made in tough filming conditions). And one can certainly argue that it's a great film -- for a whole host of reasons -- including perhaps for the structural ones you point out in your analysis.

[nickleschichoney]

(1) at times muddy soundtrack,

That can't be helped. That's the result of the magnetic tapes from the 1974 shoot being lost. So, the sound of John Huston's shots and scenes are all taken from the soundtrack on the work print / assembly.

(2) editing/blocking errors and violations of the 180 degree rule, [...] I think perhaps it can be defended as a style choice (though I don't think Welles intended to break the 180 degree rule when he did -- I think those were mistakes made in tough filming conditions).

Some of this could be worked around through editing, but that doesn't invalidate Murawski's work nor does it make it a mess. Violations of the 180 degree rule make the audience construct the space in their heads, thus making them pay more attention to the action. So, such violations work with the film's choppy and somewhat-disorienting, attention-demanding style. The rule is not some inviolate principle that filmmakers must adhere to. It depends on the goals of the project as a whole.

(3) the way characters suddenly appear in scenes even though they were not present in preceding shots,

The scenes with the Hannaford mafia are done in close-ups and the characters are often hidden in shadows. As a result, you can get away with characters appearing out of (or disappearing into) the dark.

I will concede that characters sometimes abruptly shift position; e.g. Matt seems to be between Hannaford and Denny, but then we see shots of Hannaford and Denny standing next to each other. A similar issue occurs with the projector Jake stands next to, contradicting the setup of the 1975-shot scenes in the projection room. But those are mistakes that are easily corrected (you can crop the 1974 shots to make them match the blocking of scenes shot in 1975, for example), and it's not a grave fault of either Murawski or the film that they weren't. These kinds of mistakes are inevitable when completing a dense work like this after the creator's death.

(4) the pieced-together ending that suggests that Jake is still at the drive-in after sunrise after implying that he left in the dark,

I'm sorry, but I never got the impression that he left in the dark at all. We see him slap Rich and the guests leave (including Zarah), but Hannaford's acolytes remain behind, at least for a while. Nothing about that contradicts his leaving once day starts to break and his film ends.

(5) the odd non-dramatic presentation of the main storyline about Jake learning Dale's true backstory, which fails to include any final confrontation with Dale.

Dale and Hannaford fatalistically meet right before the latter drives off to his death. It's a poetic ending, showing Dale effectively pushing Hannaford off the bridge. Why does that final encounter need to be at the party, when Hannaford learns who Dale is?

His mafia searched and found one of Dale's teachers, but not Dale himself. This is to be expected, as Dale wants to be as far away from Hannaford as possible. He only comes back after the party's over as an affront to Hannaford.

And by the way, none of this makes the film even "somewhat" a mess. All of these issues here are either minor, the result of poor storage work, or the inevitable mistakes that might be made in a posthumously-completed project like this. So I fail to see how any of this is a mess, even a "surface-level" one. The film coheres remarkably well given the unedited nature of the material Murawski had to work with and effectively expresses Welles's intentions, so it's close enough to rock and roll.

[jbrooks]

(2) editing/blocking errors and violations of the 180 degree rule, [...] I think perhaps it can be defended as a style choice (though I don't think Welles intended to break the 180 degree rule when he did -- I think those were mistakes made in tough filming conditions).

Some of this could be worked around through editing, but that doesn't invalidate Murawski's work nor does it make it a mess. Violations of the 180 degree rule make the audience construct the space in their heads, thus making them pay more attention to the action. So, such violations work with the film's choppy and somewhat-disorienting, attention-demanding style. The rule is not some inviolate principle that filmmakers must adhere to. It depends on the goals of the project as a whole.

I agree that the 180 degree rule itself is not some inviolate principle. But accurate blocking is. A director may choose to have his camera cross the line and thereby violate the rule. So screen left and screen right can be changing direction from shot to shot. That could be a valid artistic choice. But it's always a mistake to have a character look or turn to his or her left when another shot has established that he or she should look or turn to his or her right. That's not really a camera thing -- it's a failure by the script supervisor. And there are a number of examples of this in "Wind."

As for the rest, I have not time to respond now except to say that, in my view, the film can be something of a mess and still be "close enough to rock and roll." I certainly don't think that it's messy qualities are a reason to ignore the film or that any of those things necessarily detract from its great qualities.

[nickleschichoney]

But it's always a mistake to have a character look or turn to his or her left when another shot has established that he or she should look or turn to his or her right. That's not really a camera thing -- it's a failure by the script supervisor. And there are a number of examples of this in "Wind." As for the rest, I have not time to respond now ...

Well, I'll just leave this here, because I responded to the this point as well:

I will concede that characters sometimes abruptly shift position; e.g. Matt seems to be between Hannaford and Denny, but then we see shots of Hannaford and Denny standing next to each other. A similar issue occurs with the projector Jake stands next to, contradicting the setup of the 1975-shot scenes in the projection room. But those are mistakes that are easily corrected (you can crop the 1974 shots to make them match the blocking of scenes shot in 1975, for example), and it's not a grave fault of either Murawski or the film that they weren't. These kinds of mistakes are inevitable when completing a dense work like this after the creator's death.

That way you won't have to wade through everything I wrote.

[nickleschichoney]

in my view, the film can be something of a mess and still be "close enough to rock and roll."

jbrooks, when I say the movie is "close enough to rock and roll" I mean "despite its continuity issues, it's not as much of a mess as you claim."

In my view, issues you keep bringing up are minor. They're not worth calling the movie a mess of any kind.

I certainly don't think that it's messy qualities are a reason to ignore the film or that any of those things necessarily detract from its great qualities.

If you say to any average movie-goer "This movie is a mess", they'll assume it's not any good, not worth checking out. It is this understanding of the word "mess" that I am appealing to here. So, when you say it's a mess, I and others on this board have no choice but to think you're dismissing it.

[jbrooks]

So, when you say it's a mess, I and others on this board have no choice but to think you're dismissing it.

You do have a choice. You can choose to actually read what I wrote. You may believe that if a film is "messy" in any way that it must be dismissed entirely. But that's not my view and I don't think it's a universal one.

As just one example, OC Weekly's review begins "That an enigmatic Orson Welles movie that began filming in 1970, continued production through 1976 due to financial issues, had a 40-year editing gap and is only now, finally being released is a mess should surprise no one. Oh, but what a glorious, oddly compelling mess The Other Side of the Wind is." Does that sound like a dismissal?

[nickleschichoney]

As just one example, OC Weekly's review begins "That an enigmatic Orson Welles movie that began filming in 1970, continued production through 1976 due to financial issues, had a 40-year editing gap and is only now, finally being released is a mess should surprise no one. Oh, but what a glorious, oddly compelling mess The Other Side of the Wind is." Does that sound like a dismissal?

No. It sounds incredibly patronizing and uncharitable to the film as it stands.

And I don’t think you added the qualification that it had great moments until recently. I might have read you wrong, but I don’t recall you saying much good at all about the movie — months ago, anyway.

[jbrooks]

Nic:

If anyone should prove interested in my initial reaction to the film, it's available in this very thread. I was mixed on it, sure. But I also said, it's "sometimes beautiful, sometimes brilliant .... the performances are terrific. Huston is marvelous. He is the perfect actor to play Jake and he doesn’t disappoint. He gives a compelling performance that shows all of Jake’s various facets. He’s funny and charming and charismatic. And he’s also mean, angry, obsessive and a little crazy. Bogdanovich is also surprisingly good. Most of the supporting cast is also decent with Norman Foster being the standout. Foster is a revelation, and his performance as Jake’s sad, loyal hanger-on is the heart of the film. Another positive is the cinematography. The lighting and the use of both color and black and white looks great. Graver’s talent and versatility really shows through. The score is very beautiful. I mostly loved it. .... On a scene by scene level, I admired much of the editing work. Individual scenes are put together well, and there’s no clear distinction between what Welles edited and what was finished by Murawski. ... There is certainly much to admire in it."

[nickleschichoney]

Jeff, I went back over it, and here's what you actually wrote:

The score is very beautiful. I mostly loved it. But I also thought that it was perhaps too sad and mournful. The film’s introduction in particular – with sorrowful music and Bogdanovich reading his narration with a deeply mournful tone – seemed much more of a downer than I think Welles intended. I think Welles would have done that intro more matter-of-fact – like the introduction to Mr. Arkadin. And for the film as a whole, I think Welles would have used the more upbeat parts of the score more often – and buried the mournfulness more in the subtext.

The film’s great weakness is the screenplay. Welles seems to have needed a co-writer or great novel to follow. His original screenplays (Wind, Big Brass Ring, and Cradle Will Rock) are all dramatically flawed, in my view. “Wind’ is poorly structured, and dramatically muddled. The dialogue is sometimes witty – but often not. There is almost no story to speak of. Themes and ideas gradually emerge – but they’re not entirely clear and the drama doesn’t pay off in a particularly satisfying way.

The edit is also a problem. The film is too long. This film should be 90 minutes. At two hours, it becomes a chore to sit through. There are only so many random party-dialogue scenes one can take. And I also think the film-within-a-film sections are too long. The beautiful meandering pointlessness of the film-within-a-film is well established in the studio screening scene at the beginning of the film. But after that, every return to the film within the film is too much. (I did find the bathroom scene amusing – particularly the absurdity of the bit with the ice cube. But then it flows into the car sex scene and the whole thing takes forever).

On a scene by scene level, I admired much of the editing work. Individual scenes are put together well, and there’s no clear distinction between what Welles edited and what was finished by Murawski. But none of the sequences that weren’t in the workprint are as exciting editing-wise as Welles’ edit of Jake’s arrival at the party, for example.

You liked everything about the movie except the content. You liked Murawski's edit of it -- except the way it told the story and integrated Jake's movie into the film.

In other words, you didn't like the movie or the edit where it counted.

[jbrooks]

Nic:

When NYU does a symposium on my career as an informal internet movie reviewer, your presentation analyzing my views on "Wind" will surely be the most exciting presentation.

[JMcBride]

John Ford routinely and deliberately violated the rules
of screen direction in his films. His cinematographer Winton
C. Hoch clued me into this. It was one of the devious strategies Ford adopted
to prevent the front office from recutting his films. Another, Hoch
pointed out, was to have characters enter or exit a frame from
the "wrong" direction, which Ford did so the studio would have
to hold the shot until the character entered or exited (and do
the same with the next shot) rather than cutting into the midst
of action. The most obvious Ford strategies for outwitting the
front office were not shooting many closeups and shooting
few takes. He preferred to get a scene in the first take
if possible and would not rehearse action, preferring a certain
lifelike roughness within his classically composed frames. He also would sit directly under the camera and
when he called "Cut!" would put his fist in front of the lens
so the cameraman couldn't run off some extra footage. If you
look at Ford films, they are full of mismatches. It doesn't matter.
And Hoch noted wisely that in some cases it gives a subtle
emotional effect, such as John Wayne's Captain Brittles looking
the "wrong" way at his troops while saying farewell to them
in SHE WORE A YELLOW RIBBON. It is no coincidence that the
textbook Welles used to learn how to make films once he came
to Hollywood (after earlier practicing on THE HEARTS OF AGE
and TOO MUCH JOHNSON) was Ford's 1939 film STAGECOACH,
which, among other things, famously violates the rules of screen direction throughout
the classic Indian chase. During the making of CITIZEN KANE, Welles would spend hours pumping Gregg
Toland about his work with Ford on THE GRAPES OF WRATH and
THE LONG VOYAGE HOME. And for the wrap party of KANE,
Welles had a sound stage decorated with a Western motif and arrived
in a stagecoach. AMBERSONS is full of Fordian compositions; it started
shooting the same day HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY was released, and
AMBERSONS frequently resembles that film in its intricate compositions
as well as its complex use of nostalgia.