Orson Welles Press Conference

BBC Four Collections -

specially chosen programmes from the BBC Archive.

For this Collection,

Sir Michael Parkinson

has selected BBC interviews

with influential figures

of the 20th century.

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are available on BBC iPlayer.

FEMALE VOICEOVER: 'Press Conference,

'a series in which personalities who make the news

'answer impromptu questions from men who write the news.

'The questioners tonight are John Beavan of The Manchester Guardian,

'Elizabeth Frank of the News Chronicle,

'Rene McColl of the Daily Express

'and William Hardcastle of the Daily Mail, who begins the programme.'

Good evening. It's very good of Orson Welles to have come along,

all the way from Paris, in this weather, to be with us tonight.

He really needs very little introduction from me, I'm sure.

There he is, 6'3" tall,

39 years old, but still, I feel, for most of us,

the boy wonder of show business.

You pays your money and you takes your choice.

Orson Welles the actor - Citizen Kane, Harry Lime.

Orson Welles the producer, the director,

the man who made the film of Macbeth in 21 days, I think,

the man who went all the way to Haiti in the Caribbean

and produced King Lear with an all-Negro cast.

Long before flying saucers were ever heard of,

Orson Welles did a broadcast

that frightened the daylights out of the whole population of New York,

with a too-realistic version of an invasion from Mars.

Yes, he's a man of parts, a man who, at the age of 16,

starred at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin.

Last year, I believe, he wrote a ballet.

He used to write his own newspaper column.

He, I believe, now, is writing a book on international organisations.

He has even been a magician,

and, at that time, as I recall, he sawed Marlene Dietrich in half.

A man of parts, a man of many parts, and he's come along tonight

for us to throw any questions we like at him,

so I'll start and ask him specially, in view of the fact, Orson Welles,

that this is, I think, virtually your first appearance on television,

why have you, as it were, avoided television

when in fact you've seized every other medium?

Doesn't television attract you?

Oh, enormously, Mr Hardcastle.

I suppose it's just a question of terror.

Simply frightened of television.

JOHN BEAVAN: Can't you think of television as an art form?

Can it ever be really good, like the cinema?

Oh, I think so. I think it is.

I think it is already very good.

I think it's certainly as interesting as the cinema is today.

How's it going to develop, do you think?

Well...

I think that we're going to find new forms in television.

I think we're going to return to old forms, too, to the storyteller.

I do feel that the television is going up a blind alley

when it makes imitation movies.

Mr Welles, talking of terror, I always think perhaps the highlight

of your very amusing and exciting life

was that time you really frightened

half of the United States out of their wits,

back there in the 1930s with your tremendous broadcast,

pretending Mars was invading the world.

What do you mean "pretending", Mr McColl, really?

Haven't you heard about the flying saucers?

But indeed! Yes, indeed.

Do you look back on that with a certain amount of pleasure?

Well, I look back on it with a certain amount of wonder,

because we never imagined, when we did the show,

that as many people would be as excited as they were.

We thought a few people on the lunatic fringe

might be vaguely disturbed by these rumours which we broadcast.

But it turned out to be...

More people on the fringe than you thought?

Well, I don't think so. I don't think it was.

I think, er... I think we underrated the, er...

the prestige of radio at that moment.

Anything that was said on the radio was automatically true.

After that, nobody ever believed anything on the radio.

And on Pearl Harbor, the day of Pearl Harbor in America,

I was doing a broadcast, which was interrupted

with the announcement that Pearl Harbor had been attached.

Of course, everybody in America said,

"It's rather bad taste to do it again."

Was it that particular aspect of reality

that terrifies you in appearing in television?

Is it because, you feel, of its immediate effect?

Partly that, and partly not knowing it.

You know, it's a medium that I don't know except as a viewer.

I did King Lear in New York last year and that was my first experience,

but I was well-protected with a beard

and sustained by some pretty wonderful blank verse.

What kind of things do you like best as a viewer? Do you like plays

- or these conversation pieces? - I like conversations,

documentaries, sport events.

I like real things and stories and conversations,

rather than plays.

I don't say that plays haven't a place,

but I do feel that the further they move from films

and the closer they come to the needs of this medium,

the more interesting they are.

But, Mr Welles, once you were quoted as saying that you'd do Hamlet

hanging from a trapeze if it got publicity for what you were doing.

Now, here is television, waiting.

- Was it in fact... - May I... May I

correct that quotation, Mr Hardcastle?

I said simply that I thought there was a...

That there were 1,000 ways of doing any great classic

and I was defending myself against some interpretation

of some classic which we'd produced

and I said that if it would be effective,

I would certainly do Hamlet on a trapeze...

Arising out of that, Mr Welles, I saw...

- ..not for publicity. - that film you made of Macbeth.

As a Scot, I was immensely interested by it.

It had some of the weirdest kind of trappings I've ever seen in my life.

Now, could you tell me, why did you select those costumes?

Why did you film it that particular way?

Was it to try and get a bang out of it?

Well, everyone has asked me that

and I don't know what people wore in Scotland in the 11th century

that was so much more civilised than that.

In fact, they seem to have been barefoot

when they went to battle occasionally, in the Highlands...

- Please! - ..and stripped to the waist.

You're speaking of a country I love.

Yes. A country I love too.

But I believe that the costumes were on the savage side, historically,

and that the tradition of dignified plaids

and all the rest of it dates with the '80s

and the Victorian, pictorial,

actor-manager-star theatre in London.

I don't think we were as wrong as that. I don't say we were right.

But do you think that Macbeth

should be played with a Scottish accent, for example?

I think that these plays are so great that they can stand up,

no matter how badly we do them and how strangely we approach them.

How about that film you made of Othello?

I don't think we've had an opportunity to see it yet.

You're going to in...this winter.

- It's coming up, then? - Before the spring, yes.

What's been holding it up so far?

Well, holding it up has been the American release.

And, frankly, I was rather anxious to have it in America

before it was in England,

because I'm terrified of what you'll think of it!

JOHN BEAVAN: What have the critics said about it in America?

Have they attacked it?

They haven't seen it yet. I'm waiting for it to open in America

before I sneak...

ELIZABETH FRANK: You think they'll attack it less than the English?

I can only pray that everybody will attack it less than I fear!

WILLIAM HARDCASTLE: Are the Americans kinder than the English in criticism?

Oh, no, I don't think so.

Are they less distressed about the treatment of classics, possibly?

I don't think so.

I don't think so. But I think they are very impressed by what you think

about the treatment of a classic.

I'd like to ask you, Mr Welles, about your film career,

apart from your infinitely varied other show career,

the thing that sticks in most people's minds

is that your personal creation was Citizen Kane.

Lately, you've had Othello held up.

I think you have a Somerset Maugham film, Three Cases Of Murder?

I have a new film too, which is going to be released very soon,

of my own, that I wrote myself.

JOHN BEAVAN: How do you look at your own film career?

How do you feel about it, quite frankly?

Well, I don't know. I don't really...

I'm not very interesting on this subject, you know.

Well, we're always interested in people, and especially you tonight.

Citizen Kane stays in our minds so strongly...

I really... It's a terribly pompous sort of thing to say, I know,

but I am really only interested in what I'm going to do

and I find that, er...that, er...

I dislike rather intensely everything that I've completely finished.

Well, tell us about Mr Arkadin,

which is still being made, or just being made.

Well, it's finished, you know.

That's in that dangerous condition,

where in the morning I think it's splendid

- and in the evening, I wonder. - What is it? A thriller?

ELIZABETH FRANK: Is it a kind of sequel to Citizen Kane?

Not at all. No, it's quite a different story.

It has been said it was.

- Not at all. - One of the Thin Man Stories?

It's a story about a high financier,

a man of many countries and three passports.

Not at all a press lord.

- Is it a political satire? - No.

No, it's a, er...

It's a tragedy, in a way, with melodramatic and comic decorations.

It pretends to be a thriller and it isn't.

That rather sounds as though it isn't thrilling.

I'm doing a very poor job on this picture!

Please, let's change the subject!

Why did you make it in Spain, Mr Welles?

Only the scenes that take place in Spain.

- I see. - There's a castle in Spain.

No particular sympathy for the Franco regime or anything like that?

There's no political question in the picture.

He's a man who has a castle in Spain and also a house in Germany

- and we have scenes in Germany. - On the whole, Mr Welles...

You want to talk about re-arming the Germans?

In the last few years,

you have been making your base more or less in Europe...

- Yes. - ..have you not?

Is there any particular reason for that?

I mean, there's probably a very practical one, but...

Well, I think if you stop and think about it,

a great many of us have been in Europe during these last years,

because it's been a kind of frontier, for us, in films.

We've moved west and now we're coming back again.

It's, a... It's a less organised,

more anarchistic and freer atmosphere,

because it isn't organised on an industrial basis.

I'm speaking of continental film.

Even in Franco's Spain? You mean it's more...

- Well, we were on location. - I see.

We were on location in Spain, you know.

You came over here a little while ago just for one day

to do a shot in Moby Dick.

- Yes. - And you were quoted as saying,

probably incorrectly, that £2,000 a day was your absolute minimum.

Well, I got more than 2,000.

And I will take less!

THEY LAUGH

To get back to this business of you living in Europe,

as I think you have, pretty well since the war,

you also, at one time, I can remember when I was in America,

you were writing a column for the New York Post.

That's right, New York Post, a daily column.

- A political column. - Yes.

Do you feel that you're, as it were, disenfranchising yourself?

Do you ever want to get back into political America?

- Yes, very much so. - You'd like to?

- Very much. - You're from Wisconsin, aren't you?

I was born there, but I'm not from a Wisconsin family.

- You want to go back? - My people are Virginians.

You'd like to do something about McCarthy?

Well, it seems to have been done.

Are you going to make a film called Citizen Joe one of these days?

Well, it would be, er, a little late, you know.

A bit late, but a very good film. Perhaps a tragedy?

I don't think so, you know. Probably a farce!

One of the things I always admire about you, Mr Welles,

is your willingness to have a go. I remember back in Paris, in 1950,

you were putting on two stage shows.

One was called The Unthinking Lobster.

That's right!

The other, I think, was called Time Passes By,

in which you appeared looking like a Mr Samuel Goldwyn,

as I recall it, with a very good wig.

I think everyone in Paris realised

that you hadn't an earthly with those two plays

and you were just doing it for fun.

Would you agree with that,

or did you think you might make a success of them?

Well, we didn't have a failure, you know.

Well, you didn't have a success, I'm afraid. You did produce Eartha Kitt.

That was the first time I ever saw her, the beautiful coloured singer...

Well, my definition of a success is not having things thrown at me.

It's a... It's a...

Have you often had things thrown at you?

No, but I'm ready for it. Always ready!

Does your fondness for Paris arise from your French name?

- It's not a French name! - Orson? The little bear.

Oh, that's... No, but Orson is Italian -

from Orsino. I had an ancestor who was an Orsini, Orsino

and, er... it's been a family name ever since.

Nothing to do with the story of Orson and Valentine...

- Quite another Orson, alas. - ..suckled by the bear.

No.

I was absolutely fascinated looking up some cuttings about you,

just the other day, by the probably wildly inaccurate story

that you were brought up by several great aunts,

one of whom bathed in ginger ale, because champagne was too expensive.

I do hope that's true. Is it?

I wasn't brought up by these aunts, or great aunts.

ELIZABETH FRANK: But that was true, about the ginger beer?

It was...a legend in the family.

Getting back to politics,

is there any chance of you ever having a dip, you personally?

I don't know, you know.

Er, it's...er...

If I say no, you'll be sure I'm running for something.

In America, that's always the surest sign.

Aren't you a very distant cousin of Mr Adlai Stevenson?

Yes, yes, but I kept that secret during the last campaign.

I thought it was the least I could do,

in the interest of the Democratic party!

In France, where you live,

do you come up against much anti-Americanism?

Well, you know, I think that, er...

..anti anything, you know, you come up against an awful lot.

I don't like it. But, of course you do, there's a good deal of it.

Do you find yourself defending America frequently?

Yes.

Do the French criticise America

for the right reasons or the wrong reasons on the whole, would you say?

Don't you think that... countries and races,

and big national generalisations like that,

that the criticisms are always for the wrong reasons?

I do. I'm very glad that you think so too.

Well, talking of that, there's been a certain amount of criticism

of the trends of American influence on things like horror comics

and, indeed, on the films.

Do you feel that there's anything really, when you get down to it,

in the suggestion that American influence

is towards a spread of juvenile delinquency through the world?

I don't think that horror films or horror comics

contribute to juvenile delinquency.

I think that they may encourage psychotics,

and homicidal, and other dangerous types,

but juvenile delinquency is, I think, a symptom of the illness of our age.

It doesn't come from lack of playgrounds or bad comic books,

but of a great longing for youth to have something to rebel against.

You wouldn't say that children are imitative

and that they tend to imitate what they see or read?

If they were, they would have come from the bear pits

and the Globe Theatre and committed some rather extraordinary acts

in the Elizabethan days, you know.

ELIZABETH FRANK: You don't think that the glorification of violence

which is shown, even in some of the Westerns, gives them ideas?

It would make them think they liked to shoot from the hip, or...

Well, you see, I think...

..quick on the draw and this sort of thing.

I think that all vital periods of drama and of literature

are periods of great violence,

and that all of our great plays and novels are violent.

And I don't like them...

When they are poor novels or when they are not works of art,

they become shoddy and seem to be, er...

seem to be pandering to something wicked, you know.

Yes, but usually virtue triumphs.

Whereas in the horror comics, it doesn't, always.

- Oh, doesn't it? - I don't think so.

ELIZABETH FRANK: No, not always.

Well, it doesn't in Edgar Allan Poe either, you know.

No. But you were not brought up on horror comics?

They didn't have them when you were a boy in America?

No, I don't suppose...

They had horror stories and horror films.

I'm not for them. I'm very much against violence and brutality

as a popular subject.

I think it is over-exploited, I quite agree with that.

Would you prohibit horror comics?

I wouldn't prohibit anything. I'm very much against censorship.

Even for children?

- That's a very difficult question. - Very difficult point.

But, you see, I don't think children were ever hurt by Grimm

and I remember that the end of Snow White in Grimm -

the real end, not the Disney one -

is when the witch is given

red-hot iron shoes to dance in until she dies.

Everybody's terribly happy about it

and I don't think it made any delinquents out of me then.

I think children ARE violent, you know.

Which of your many activities is your favourite?

I know it's probably true to say that it all forms part of one whole,

but acting, directing, writing, producing -

what has given you most pleasure in your career?

I think that the, er, directing has.

Directing films, that is?

Directing films and the theatre, yes.

And what do you look back at with most joy and pride?

I...I... As I said before, I know it's probably...

I don't look back with as much joy and pride as you might suppose.

I'm supposed to be rather pleased with my work

and I'm only pleased with what I'm going to do.

In Citizen Kane, you did practically all the things that you do.

Don't you think that probably was the most successful thing for you?

Not at all. I think Ambersons is a much better film.

I did too, yes.

Well, now, if a millionaire were to come along and offer you a chance

to do anything you wanted, what would you do?

- Right this minute? - Right this minute now.

Right this minute. Well...

how many millions?

As many as you want.

- Money no object. - Thank you, Mr Beavan!

There's a lovely idea.

I think I would start a foundation

and hire a great number of constitutional lawyers...

..and study the encroachment of the police

on civil liberties all over the world in every country.

Which do you think is the freest country?

You've lived in a great many countries.

Which is the one which you feel freest and easiest in?

Well, I don't know.

I feel free almost everywhere.

But I don't think people are free, you know.

An artist is, er... inhabits a kind of free climate

that he perhaps doesn't deserve,

which doesn't reflect the realities, I don't think, of life.

What particular examples of police interference are you thinking of?

Are you thinking of petty things

like the bother of having a car these days?

Petty and big. You see, I think the police are taking the place of

the judiciary, all over the world.

And I think that we are confusing police regulations with the law.

Almost everywhere.

I was fascinated, Mr Welles,

with what you said just now about Europe being anarchistic.

Particularly Latin Europe.

You like a little touch of anarchy, with your drinks?

Well, I like a touch of anarchy

in a business which is as difficult and complicated as the films.

Mm-hm. A kind of light-headedness, light-heartedness?

Light-headedness, ah. Alas, no. As little of that as possible.

But light-heartedness, yes, and the kind of freedom

that can't go with a really superb organisation and an assembly line.

Yes.

I don't happen to be a good assembly line film-maker.

But it's possible to make very good films on the assembly line.

I'm not temperamentally adapted to it - that's what I meant to say.

Was I right in saying that

you were writing a book on international organisations?

Yes, yes.

- Give us some idea... - It's a review,

a review of international organisations in the last century.

- Going back to the League, UNESCO... - Right through, yes.

And discussing the...

the questions very broadly and, er...

And, er... postulating some...

Do you like working, or is it an effort?

Do you have to drive yourself to it, or...?

Yes, I have to drive myself. I'm very lazy.

I work very hard because I'm very lazy,

as all industrious people, I think, are basically lazy.

You...as I said, you sawed Marlene Dietrich in half.

Indeed I did.

- That must've been... - A pleasure!

I mean in the nicest sense of the word.

Putting her back together again was a pleasure, Mr Hardcastle.

Among your experiences of great actresses,

and in all the films you've done, who do you remember most

as perhaps the most beautiful and the most effective actress of your...?

- Oh, I think Garbo. - Garbo.

- Did you ever act with her? - No, I did not.

Do you ever see her these days?

No, I haven't seen her in several years. I have seen her a good bit.

ELIZABETH FRANK: She's not likely to make another picture, is she?

One hopes, you know. It's one of those great...

Like one waits for the old man of the mountains...

Now, about acting. Is the quiet style of acting going out of fashion?

You know, the gentlemanly shrug of the shoulder

or the lift of the eyebrow to express some profound emotion.

Is that on its way out?

Typical English, West End style of acting, started by Gerald du Maurier.

Well, it can't really go out, as long as there's that machine...

- But you Americans seem to be... - ..so close to us.

You Americans seem to be bringing

a typical American style of acting into the theatre.

Would you say it's broader?

Broader, more florid, more tense,

more exciting than the typical English style.

And I think it's affecting our English actors too.

- Is it? - And for the better.

The critics like it.

Well, of course, I think there've been two great traditions

in the English theatre in my lifetime.

One has been the heroic one,

to which, of course, Olivier and Gielgud and so on belonged to.

And then Gerald's drawing room one,

which is, of course, superlatively good.

When it's done well, it's the best thing of its kind that there is.

Good for the films, of course...

- Yes, and wonderful in the theatre. - ..where everything is magnified.

ELIZABETH FRANK: The wide screen must alter acting techniques?

Except that it's immediately cancelled by this machine

that's only five feet away from anybody who's looking at it.

What do you think of the big screen?

I think it's big.

Does it add to the artistry of pictures?

Well...no.

I think the enemy of the films is, of course, reality.

And films are best when they manage poetry

by reducing the element of reality

and introducing something which is an invention of the film-maker.

And the wide screen is simply a wide screen, showing Niagara Falls,

or a big road full of centurions,

or a lot of lions eating up a lot of Christians.

Well, Mr Welles, as I say, it was awfully good of you to come along

and I hope tonight has, perhaps,

persuaded you to take a closer interest in television

and, perhaps, to come back again soon.

Again, very many thanks for coming along. Good night.

Thank you very much for asking me. Thank you for watching. Good night.

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