《公民凯恩》Citizen Kane (1941)
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Citizen Kane (1941)
by Herman J. Mankiewicz and Orson Welles.
Final script.
PROLOGUE
FADE IN:
EXT. XANADU - FAINT DAWN - 1940 (MINIATURE)
Window, very small in the distance, illuminated.
All around this is an almost totally black screen. Now, as the camera
moves slowly towards the window which is almost a postage stamp in the
frame, other forms appear; barbed wire, cyclone fencing, and now,
looming up against an early morning sky, enormous iron grille work.
Camera travels up what is now shown to be a gateway of gigantic
proportions and holds on the top of it - a huge initial "K" showing
darker and darker against the dawn sky. Through this and beyond we
see the fairy-tale mountaintop of Xanadu, the great castle a
sillhouette as its summit, the little window a distant accent in the
darkness.
DISSOLVE:
(A SERIES OF SET-UPS, EACH CLOSER TO THE GREAT WINDOW, ALL TELLING
SOMETHING OF:)
The literally incredible domain of CHARLES FOSTER KANE.
Its right flank resting for nearly forty miles on the Gulf Coast, it
truly extends in all directions farther than the eye can see.
Designed by nature to be almost completely bare and flat - it was, as
will develop, practically all marshland when Kane acquired and changed
its face - it is now pleasantly uneven, with its fair share of rolling
hills and one very good-sized mountain, all man-made. Almost all the
land is improved, either through cultivation for farming purposes of
through careful landscaping, in the shape of parks and lakes. The
castle dominates itself, an enormous pile, compounded of several
genuine castles, of European origin, of varying architecture -
dominates the scene, from the very peak of the mountain.
DISSOLVE:
GOLF LINKS (MINIATURE)
Past which we move. The greens are straggly and overgrown, the
fairways wild with tropical weeds, the links unused and not seriously
tended for a long time.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
WHAT WAS ONCE A GOOD-SIZED ZOO (MINIATURE)
Of the Hagenbeck type. All that now remains, with one exception, are
the individual plots, surrounded by moats, on which the animals are
kept, free and yet safe from each other and the landscape at large.
(Signs on several of the plots indicate that here there were once
tigers, lions, girrafes.)
DISSOLVE:
THE MONKEY TERRACE (MINIATURE)
In the foreground, a great obscene ape is outlined against the dawn
murk. He is scratching himself slowly, thoughtfully, looking out
across the estates of Charles Foster Kane, to the distant light
glowing in the castle on the hill.
DISSOLVE:
THE ALLIGATOR PIT (MINIATURE)
The idiot pile of sleepy dragons. Reflected in the muddy water - the
lighted window.
THE LAGOON (MINIATURE)
The boat landing sags. An old newspaper floats on the surface of the
water - a copy of the New York Enquirer." As it moves across the
frame, it discloses again the reflection of the window in the castle,
closer than before.
THE GREAT SWIMMING POOL (MINIATURE)
It is empty. A newspaper blows across the cracked floor of the tank.
DISSOLVE:
THE COTTAGES (MINIATURE)
In the shadows, literally the shadows, of the castle. As we move by,
we see that their doors and windows are boarded up and locked, with
heavy bars as further protection and sealing.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
A DRAWBRIDGE (MINIATURE)
Over a wide moat, now stagnant and choked with weeds. We move across
it and through a huge solid gateway into a formal garden, perhaps
thirty yards wide and one hundred yards deep, which extends right up
to the very wall of the castle. The landscaping surrounding it has
been sloppy and causal for a long time, but this particular garden has
been kept up in perfect shape. As the camera makes its way through
it, towards the lighted window of the castle, there are revealed rare
and exotic blooms of all kinds. The dominating note is one of almost
exaggerated tropical lushness, hanging limp and despairing. Moss,
moss, moss. Ankor Wat, the night the last King died.
DISSOLVE:
THE WINDOW (MINIATURE)
Camera moves in until the frame of the window fills the frame of the
screen. Suddenly, the light within goes out. This stops the action
of the camera and cuts the music which has been accompanying the
sequence. In the glass panes of the window, we see reflected the
ripe, dreary landscape of Mr. Kane's estate behind and the dawn sky.
DISSOLVE:
INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940
A very long shot of Kane's enormous bed, silhouetted against the
enormous window.
DISSOLVE:
INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940
A snow scene. An incredible one. Big, impossible flakes of snow, a
too picturesque farmhouse and a snow man. The jingling of sleigh
bells in the musical score now makes an ironic reference to Indian
Temple bells - the music freezes -
KANE'S OLD OLD
VOICE
Rosebud...
The camera pulls back, showing the whole scene to be contained in one
of those glass balls which are sold in novelty stores all over the
world. A hand - Kane's hand, which has been holding the ball,
relaxes. The ball falls out of his hand and bounds down two carpeted
steps leading to the bed, the camera following. The ball falls off
the last step onto the marble floor where it breaks, the fragments
glittering in the first rays of the morning sun. This ray cuts an
angular pattern across the floor, suddenly crossed with a thousand
bars of light as the blinds are pulled across the window.
The foot of Kane's bed. The camera very close. Outlined against the
shuttered window, we can see a form - the form of a nurse, as she
pulls the sheet up over his head. The camera follows this action up
the length of the bed and arrives at the face after the sheet has
covered it.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. OF A MOTION PICTURE PROJECTION ROOM
On the screen as the camera moves in are the words:
"MAIN TITLE"
Stirring, brassy music is heard on the soundtrack (which, of course,
sounds more like a soundtrack than ours.)
The screen in the projection room fills our screen as the second title
appears:
"CREDITS"
NOTE: Here follows a typical news digest short, one of the regular
monthly or bi-monthly features, based on public events or
personalities. These are distinguished from ordinary newsreels and
short subjects in that they have a fully developed editorial or
storyline. Some of the more obvious characteristics of the "March of
Time," for example, as well as other documentary shorts, will be
combined to give an authentic impression of this now familiar type of
short subject. As is the accepted procedure in these short subjects,
a narrator is used as well as explanatory titles.
FADE OUT:
NEWS DIGEST
NARRATOR
Legendary was the Xanadu where Kubla
Kahn decreed his stately pleasure
dome -
(with quotes in his voice)
"Where twice five miles of fertile
ground, with walls and towers were
girdled 'round."
(dropping the quotes)
Today, almost as legendary is Florida's
XANADU - world's largest private
pleasure ground. Here, on the deserts
of the Gulf Coast, a private mountain
was commissioned, successfully built
for its landlord. Here in a private
valley, as in the Coleridge poem,
"blossoms many an incense-bearing tree."
Verily, "a miracle of rare device."
U.S.A.
CHARLES FOSTER KANE
Opening shot of great desolate expanse of Florida coastline (1940 -
DAY)
DISSOLVE:
Series of shots showing various aspects of Xanadu, all as they might
be photographed by an ordinary newsreel cameraman - nicely
photographed, but not atmospheric to the extreme extent of the
Prologue (1940).
NARRATOR
(dropping the quotes)
Here, for Xanadu's landlord, will be
held 1940's biggest, strangest funeral;
here this week is laid to rest a potent
figure of our Century - America's Kubla
Kahn - Charles Foster Kane.
In journalism's history, other names
are honored more than Charles Foster
Kane's, more justly revered. Among
publishers, second only to James Gordon
Bennet the First: his dashing, expatriate
son; England's Northcliffe and Beaverbrook;
Chicago's Patterson and McCormick;
TITLE:
TO FORTY-FOUR MILLION U.S. NEWS BUYERS, MORE NEWSWORTHY THAN THE NAMES
IN HIS OWN HEADLINES, WAS KANE HIMSELF, GREATEST NEWSPAPER TYCOON OF
THIS OR ANY OTHER GENERATION.
Shot of a huge, screen-filling picture of Kane. Pull back to show
that it is a picture on the front page of the "Enquirer," surrounded
by the reversed rules of mourning, with masthead and headlines. (1940)
DISSOLVE:
A great number of headlines, set in different types and different
styles, obviously from different papers, all announcing Kane's death,
all appearing over photographs of Kane himself (perhaps a fifth of the
headlines are in foreign languages). An important item in connection
with the headlines is that many of them - positively not all - reveal
passionately conflicting opinions about Kane. Thus, they contain
variously the words "patriot," "democrat," "pacifist," "war-monger,"
"traitor," "idealist," "American," etc.
TITLE:
1895 TO 1940 - ALL OF THESE YEARS HE COVERED, MANY OF THESE YEARS HE
WAS.
Newsreel shots of San Francisco during and after the fire, followed by
shots of special trains with large streamers: "Kane Relief
Organization." Over these shots superimpose the date - 1906.
Artist's painting of Foch's railroad car and peace negotiators, if
actual newsreel shot unavailable. Over this shot sumperimpose the
date - 1918.
NARRATOR
Denver's Bonfils and Sommes; New York's
late, great Joseph Pulitzer; America's
emperor of the news syndicate, another
editorialist and landlord, the still
mighty and once mightier Hearst. Great
names all of them - but none of them so
loved, hated, feared, so often spoken -
as Charles Foster Kane.
The San Francisco earthquake. First with
the news were the Kane papers. First with
Relief of the Sufferers, First with the
news of their Relief of the Sufferers.
Kane papers scoop the world on the
Armistice - publish, eight hours before
competitors, complete details of the
Armistice teams granted the Germans by
Marshall Foch from his railroad car in the
Forest of Compeigne.
For forty years appeared in Kane newsprint
no public issue on which Kane papers took
no stand.
No public man whom Kane himself did not
support or denounce - often support, then
denounce.
Its humble beginnings, a dying dailey -
Shots with the date - 1898 (to be supplied)
Shots with the date - 1910 (to be supplied)
Shots with the date - 1922 (to be supplied)
Headlines, cartoons, contemporary newreels or stills of the following:
1. WOMAN SUFFRAGE
The celebrated newsreel shot of about 1914.
2. PROHIBITION
Breaking up of a speakeasy and such.
3. T.V.A.
4. LABOR RIOTS
Brief clips of old newreel shots of William Jennings Bryan, Theodore
Roosevelt, Stalin, Walter P. Thatcher, Al Smith, McKinley, Landon,
Franklin D. Roosevelt and such. Also, recent newsreels of the elderly
Kane with such Nazis as Hitler and Goering; and England's Chamberlain
and Churchill.
Shot of a ramshackle building with old-fashioned presses showing
through plate glass windows and the name "Enquirer" in old-fashioned
gold letters. (1892)
DISSOLVE:
NARRATOR
Kane's empire, in its glory, held
dominion over thirty-seven newpapers,
thirteen magazines, a radio network.
An empire upon an empire. The first
of grocery stores, paper mills,
apartment buildings, factories, forests,
ocean-liners -
An empire through which for fifty years
flowed, in an unending stream, the wealth
of the earth's third richest gold mine...
Famed in American legend is the origin
of the Kane fortune... How, to boarding
housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting
boarder, in 1868 was left the supposedly
worthless deed to an abandoned mine shaft:
The Colorado Lode.
The magnificent Enquirer Building of today.
1891-1911 - a map of the USA, covering the entire screen, which in
animated diagram shows the Kane publications spreading from city to
city. Starting from New York, minature newboys speed madly to
Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington,
Atlanta, El Paso, etc., screaming "Wuxtry, Kane Papers, Wuxtry."
Shot of a large mine going full blast, chimneys belching smoke, trains
moving in and out, etc. A large sign reads "Colorado Lode Mining Co."
(1940) Sign reading; "Little Salem, CO - 25 MILES."
DISSOLVE:
An old still shot of Little Salem as it was 70 years ago (identified
by copper-plate caption beneath the still). (1870)
Shot of early tintype stills of Thomas Foster Kane and his wife, Mary,
on their wedding day. A similar picture of Mary Kane some four or
five years later with her little boy, Charles Foster Kane.
NARRATOR
Fifty-seven years later, before a
Congressional Investigation, Walter P.
Thatcher, grand old man of Wall Street,
for years chief target of Kane papers'
attack on "trusts," recalls a journey
he made as a youth...
Shot of Capitol, in Washington D.C.
Shot of Congressional Investigating Committee (reproduction of
existing J.P. Morgan newsreel). This runs silent under narration.
Walter P. Thatcher is on the stand. He is flanked by his son, Walter
P. Thatcher Jr., and other partners. He is being questioned by some
Merry Andrew congressmen. At this moment, a baby alligator has just
been placed in his lap, causing considerable confusion and
embarrassment.
Newsreel close-up of Thatcher, the soundtrack of which now fades in.
THATCHER
... because of that trivial incident...
INVESTIGATOR
It is a fact, however, is it not, that
in 1870, you did go to Colorado?
THATCHER
I did.
INVESTIGATOR
In connection with the Kane affairs?
THATCHER
Yes. My firm had been appointed
trustees by Mrs. Kane for the fortune,
which she had recently acquired. It
was her wish that I should take charge
of this boy, Charles Foster Kane.
NARRATOR
That same month in Union Square -
INVESTIGATOR
Is it not a fact that on that occasion,
the boy personally attacked you after
striking you in the stomach with a sled?
Loud laughter and confusion.
THATCHER
Mr. Chairman, I will read to this
committee a prepared statement I have
brought with me - and I will then refuse
to answer any further questions. Mr.
Johnson, please!
A young assistant hands him a sheet of paper from a briefcase.
THATCHER
(reading it)
"With full awareness of the meaning of
my words and the responsibility of what
I am about to say, it is my considered
belief that Mr. Charles Foster Kane, in
every essence of his social beliefs and
by the dangerous manner in which he has
persistently attacked the American
traditions of private property, initiative
and opportunity for advancement, is - in
fact - nothing more or less than a
Communist."
Newsreel of Union Square meeting, section of crowd carrying banners
urging the boycott of Kane papers. A speaker is on the platform above
the crowd.
SPEAKER
(fading in on soundtrack)
- till the words "Charles Foster Kane"
are a menace to every working man in
this land. He is today what he has
always been and always will be - A
FASCIST!
NARRATOR
And yet another opinion - Kane's own.
Silent newsreel on a windy platform, flag-draped, in front of the
magnificent Enquirer building. On platform, in full ceremonial dress,
is Charles Foster Kane. He orates silently.
TITLE:
"I AM, HAVE BEEN, AND WILL BE ONLY ONE THING - AN AMERICAN." CHARLES
FOSTER KANE.
Same locale, Kane shaking hands out of frame.
Another newsreel shot, much later, very brief, showing Kane, older and
much fatter, very tired-looking, seated with his second wife in a
nightclub. He looks lonely and unhappy in the midst of the gaiety.
NARRATOR
Twice married, twice divorced - first
to a president's niece, Emily Norton -
today, by her second marriage, chatelaine
of the oldest of England's stately homes.
Sixteen years after that - two weeks after
his divorce from Emily Norton - Kane
married Susan Alexander, singer, at the
Town Hall in Trenton, New Jersey.
TITLE:
FEW PRIVATE LIVES WERE MORE PUBLIC.
Period still of Emily Norton (1900).
DISSOLVE:
Reconstructed silent newsreel. Kane, Susan, and Bernstein emerging
from side doorway of City Hall into a ring of press photographers,
reporters, etc. Kane looks startled, recoils for an instance, then
charges down upon the photographers, laying about him with his stick,
smashing whatever he can hit.
NARRATOR
For wife two, one-time opera singing
Susan Alexander, Kane built Chicago's
Municipal Opera House. Cost: three
million dollars. Conceived for Susan
Alexander Kane, half-finished before
she divorced him, the still unfinished
Xanadu. Cost: no man can say.
Still of architect's sketch with typically glorified "rendering" of
the Chicago Municipal Opera House.
DISSOLVE:
A glamorous shot of the almost-finished Xanadu, a magnificent
fairy-tale estate built on a mountain. (1920)
Then shots of its preparation. (1917)
Shots of truck after truck, train after train, flashing by with
tremendous noise.
Shots of vast dredges, steamshovels.
Shot of ship standing offshore unloading its lighters.
In quick succession, shots follow each other, some reconstructed, some
in miniature, some real shots (maybe from the dam projects) of
building, digging, pouring concrete, etc.
NARRATOR
One hundred thousand trees, twenty
thousand tons of marble, are the
ingredients of Xanadu's mountain.
Xanadu's livestock: the fowl of the
air, the fish of the sea, the beast
of the field and jungle - two of each;
the biggest private zoo since Noah.
Contents of Kane's palace: paintings,
pictures, statues, the very stones of
many another palace, shipped to Florida
from every corner of the earth, from
other Kane houses, warehouses, where
they mouldered for years. Enough for
ten museums - the loot of the world.
More shots as before, only this time we see (in miniature) a large
mountain - at different periods in its development - rising out of the
sands.
Shots of elephants, apes, zebras, etc. being herded, unloaded,
shipped, etc. in various ways.
Shots of packing cases being unloaded from ships, from trains, from
trucks, with various kinds of lettering on them (Italian, Arabian,
Chinese, etc.) but all consigned to Charles Foster Kane, Xanadu,
Florida.
A reconstructed still of Xanadu - the main terrace. A group of
persons in clothes of the period of 1917. In their midst, clearly
recognizable, are Kane and Susan.
NARRATOR
Kane urged his country's entry into
one war, opposed participation in
another. Swung the election to one
American President at least, was
called another's assassin. Thus,
Kane's papers might never have
survived - had not the President.
TITLE:
FROM XANADU, FOR THE PAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, ALL KANE ENTERPRISES HAVE
BEEN DIRECTED, MANY OF THE NATIONS DESTINIES SHAPED.
Shots of various authentically worded headlines of American papers
since 1895.
Spanish-American War shots. (1898)
A graveyard in France of the World War and hundreds of crosses. (1919)
Old newsreels of a political campaign.
Insert of a particularly virulent headline and/or cartoon.
HEADLINE: "PRESIDENT SHOT"
NARRATOR
Kane, molder of mass opinion though he
was, in all his life was never granted
elective office by the voters of his
country.
Few U.S. news publishers have been.
Few, like one-time Congressman Hearst,
have ever run for any office - most know
better - conclude with other political
observers that one man's press has power
enough for himself. But Kane papers were
once strong indeed, and once the prize
seemed almost his. In 1910, as Independent
Candidate for governor, the best elements
of the state behind him - the White House
seemingly the next easy step in a lightning
political career -
Night shot of crowd burning Charles Foster Kane in effigy. The dummy
bears a grotesque, comic resemblance to Kane. It is tossed into the
flames, which burn up -
- and then down... (1910)
FADE OUT:
TITLE:
IN POLITICS - ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A BRIDE
Newsreel shots of great crowds streaming into a building - Madison
Square Garden - then shots inside the vast auditorium, at one end of
which is a huge picture of Kane. (1910)
Shot of box containing the first Mrs. Kane and young Howard Kane, age
five. They are acknowledging the cheers of the crowd. (Silent Shot)
(1910)
Newreel shot of dignitaries on platform, with Kane, alongside of
speaker's table, beaming, hand upraised to silence the crowd. (Silent
Shot) (1910)
NARRATOR
Then, suddenly - less than one week
before election - defeat! Shameful,
ignominious - defeat that set back
for twenty years the cause of reform
in the U.S., forever cancelled political
chances for Charles Foster Kane.
Then, in the third year of the Great
Depression... As to all publishers, it
sometimes must - to Bennett, to Munsey
and Hearst it did - a paper closes! For
Kane, in four short years: collapse!
Eleven Kane papers, four Kane magazines
merged, more sold, scrapped -
Newreel shot - closeup of Kane delivering a speech... (1910)
The front page of a contemporary paper - a screaming headline. Twin
phots of Kane and Susan. (1910)
Printed title about Depression.
Once more repeat the map of the USA 1932-1939. Suddenly, the cartoon
goes into reverse, the empire begins to shrink, illustrating the
narrator's words.
The door of a newspaper office with the signs: "Closed."
NARRATOR
Then four long years more - alone in
his never-finished, already decaying,
pleasure palace, aloof, seldom visited,
never photographed, Charles Foster Kane
continued to direct his falling empire
... vainly attempting to sway, as he
once did, the destinies of a nation that
has ceased to listen to him ... ceased
to trust him...
Shots of Xanadu. (1940)
Series of shots, entirely modern, but rather jumpy and obviously
bootlegged, showing Kane in a bath chair, swathed in summer rugs,
being perambulated through his rose garden, a desolate figure in the
sunshine. (1935)
NARRATOR
Last week, death came to sit upon the
throne of America's Kubla Khan - last
week, as it must to all men, death came
to Charles Foster Kane.
DISSOLVE:
Cabinent Photograph (Full Screen) of Kane as an old, old man. This
image remains constant on the screen (as camera pulls back, taking in
the interior of a dark projection room.
INT. PROJECTION ROOM - DAY - 1940
A fairly large one, with a long throw to the screen. It is dark.
The image of Kane as an old man remains constant on the screen as
camera pulls back, slowly taking in and registering Projection Room.
This action occurs, however, only after the first few lines of
encuring dialogue have been spoken. The shadows of the men speaking
appear as they rise from their chairs - black against the image of
Kane's face on the screen.
NOTE: These are the editors of a "News Digest" short, and of the
Rawlston magazines. All his enterprises are represented in the
projection room, and Rawlston himself, that great man, is present also
and will shortly speak up.
During the entire course of this scene, nobody's face is really seen.
Sections of their bodies are picked out by a table light, a silhouette
is thrown on the screen, and their faces and bodies are themselves
thrown into silhouette against the brilliant slanting rays of light
from the projection room.
A Third Man is on the telephone. We see a corner of his head and the
phone.
THIRD MAN
(at phone)
Stand by. I'll tell you if we want
to run it again.
(hangs up)
THOMPSON'S VOICE
Well?
A short pause.
A MAN'S VOICE
It's a tough thing to do in a newsreel.
Seventy years of a man's life -
Murmur of highly salaried assent at this. Rawlston walks toward
camera and out of the picture. Others are rising. Camera during all
of this, apparently does its best to follow action and pick up faces,
but fails. Actually, all set-ups are to be planned very carefully to
exclude the element of personality from this scene; which is expressed
entirely by voices, shadows, sillhouettes and the big, bright image of
Kane himself on the screen.
A VOICE
See what Arthur Ellis wrote about him
in the American review?
THIRD MAN
I read it.
THE VOICE
(its owner is already leaning
across the table, holding a
piece of paper under the desk
light and reading from it)
Listen: Kane is dead. He contributed
to the journalism of his day - the
talent of a mountebank, the morals of a
bootlegger, and the manners of a pasha.
He and his kind have almost succeeded in
transforming a once noble profession into
a seven percent security - no longer secure.
ANOTHER VOICE
That's what Arthur Ellis is writing now.
Thirty years ago, when Kane gave him his
chance to clean up Detroit and Chicago and
St. Louis, Kane was the greatest guy in the
world. If you ask me -
ANOTHER VOICE
Charles Foster Kane was a...
Then observations are made almost simultaneous.
RAWLSTON'S VOICE
Just a minute!
Camera moves to take in his bulk outlined against the glow from the
projection room.
RAWLSTON
What were Kane's last words?
A silence greets this.
RAWLSTON
What were the last words he said on
earth? Thompson, you've made us a
good short, but it needs character -
SOMEBODY'S VOICE
Motivation -
RAWLSTON
That's it - motivation. What made Kane
what he was? And, for that matter, what
was he? What we've just seen are the
outlines of a career - what's behind the
career? What's the man? Was he good or
bad? Strong or foolish? Tragic or silly?
Why did he do all those things? What was
he after?
(then, appreciating his point)
Maybe he told us on his death bed.
THOMPSON
Yes, and maybe he didn't.
RAWLSTON
Ask the question anyway, Thompson!
Build the picture around the question,
even if you can't answer it.
THOMPSON
I know, but -
RAWLSTON
(riding over him like any
other producer)
All we saw on that screen was a big
American -
A VOICE
One of the biggest.
RAWLSTON
(without pausing for this)
But how is he different from Ford?
Or Hearst for that matter? Or
Rockefeller - or John Doe?
A VOICE
I know people worked for Kane will tell
you - not only in the newspaper business
- look how he raised salaries. You don't
want to forget -
ANOTHER VOICE
You take his labor record alone, they
ought to hang him up like a dog.
RAWLSTON
I tell you, Thompson - a man's dying
words -
SOMEBODY'S VOICE
What were they?
Silence.
SOMEBODY'S VOICE
(hesitant)
Yes, Mr. Rawlston, what were Kane's
dying words?
RAWLSTON
(with disgust)
Rosebud!
A little ripple of laughter at this, which is promptly silenced by
Rawlston.
RAWLSTON
That's right.
A VOICE
Tough guy, huh?
(derisively)
Dies calling for Rosebud!
RAWLSTON
Here's a man who might have been
President. He's been loved and
hated and talked about as much as
any man in our time - but when he
comes to die, he's got something on
his mind called "Rosebud." What
does that mean?
ANOTHER VOICE
A racehorse he bet on once, probably,
that didn't come in - Rosebud!
RAWLSTON
All right. But what was the race?
There is a short silence.
RAWLSTON
Thompson!
THOMPSON
Yes, sir.
RAWLSTON
Hold this thing up for a week. Two
weeks if you have to...
THOMPSON
(feebly)
But don't you think if we release it
now - he's only been dead four days
- it might be better than if -
RAWLSTON
(decisively)
Nothing is ever better than finding
out what makes people tick. Go after
the people that knew Kane well. That
manager of his - the little guy,
Bernstein, those two wives, all the
people who knew him, had worked for
him, who loved him, who hated his guts -
(pauses)
I don't mean go through the City
Directory, of course -
The Third Man gives a hearty "yes-man" laugh.
THOMPSON
I'll get to it right away, Mr.
Rawlston.
RAWLSTON
(rising)
Good!
The camera from behind him, outlines his back against Kane's picture
on the screen.
RAWLSTON'S VOICE
(continued)
It'll probably turn out to be a very
simple thing...
FADE OUT:
NOTE: Now begins the story proper - the seach by Thompson for the
facts about Kane - his researches ... his interviews with the people
who knew Kane.
It is important to remember always that only at the very end of the
story is Thompson himself a personality. Until then, throughout the
picture, we photograph only Thompson's back, shoulders, or his shadow
- sometimes we only record his voice. He is not until the final scene
a "character". He is the personification of the search for the truth
about Charles Foster Kane. He is the investigator.
FADE IN:
EXT. CHEAP CABARET - "EL RANCHO" - ATLANTIC CITY - NIGHT - 1940
(MINIATURE) - RAIN
The first image to register is a sign:
"EL RANCHO"
FLOOR SHOW
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
TWICE NIGHTLY
These words, spelled out in neon, glow out of the darkness at the end
of the fade out. Then there is lightning which reveals a squalid
roof-top on which the sign stands. Thunder again, and faintly the
sound of music from within. A light glows from a skylight. The
camera moves to this and closes in. Through the splashes of rain, we
see through the skylight down into the interior of the cabaret.
Directly below us at a table sits the lone figure of a woman, drinking
by herself.
DISSOLVE:
INT. "EL RANCO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940
Medium shot of the same woman as before, finishing the drink she
started to take above. It is Susie. The music, of course, is now
very loud. Thompson, his back to the camera, moves into the picture
in the close foreground. A Captain appears behind Susie, speaking
across her to Thompson.
THE CAPTAIN
(a Greek)
This is Mr. Thompson, Miss Alexander.
Susan looks up into Thompson's face. She is fifty, trying to look
much younger, cheaply blonded, in a cheap, enormously generous evening
dress. Blinking up into Thompson's face, she throws a crink into ther
mouth. Her eyes, which she thinks is keeping commandingly on his, are
bleared and watery.
SUSAN
(to the Captain)
I want another drink, John.
Low thunder from outside.
THE CAPTAIN
(seeing his chance)
Right away. Will you have something,
Mr. Thompson?
THOMPSON
(staring to sit down)
I'll have a highball.
SUSAN
(so insistently as to make
Thompson change his mind
and stand up again)
Who told you you could sit down here?
THOMPSON
Oh! I thought maybe we could have
a drink together?
SUSAN
Think again!
There is an awkward pause as Thompson looks from her to the Captain.
SUSAN
Why don't you people let me alone?
I'm minding my own business. You
mind yours.
THOMPSON
If you'd just let me talk to you
for a little while, Miss Alexander.
All I want to ask you...
SUSAN
Get out of here!
(almost hysterical)
Get out! Get out!
Thompson looks at the Captain, who shrugs his shoulders.
THOMPSON
I'm sorry. Maybe some other time -
If he thought he would get a response from Susan, who thinks she is
looking at him steelily, he realizes his error. He nods and walks
off, following the Captain out the door.
THE CAPTAIN
She's just not talking to anybody
from the newspapers, Mr. Thompson.
THOMPSON
I'm not from a newspaper exactly, I -
They have come upon a waiter standing in front of a booth.
THE CAPTAIN
(to the waiter)
Get her another highball.
THE WAITER
Another double?
THE CAPTAIN
(after a moment, pityingly)
Yes.
They walk to the door.
THOMPSON
She's plastered, isn't she?
THE CAPTAIN
She'll snap out of it. Why, until he
died, she'd just as soon talk about
Mr. Kane as about anybody. Sooner.
THOMPSON
I'll come down in a week or so and
see her again. Say, you might be able
to help me. When she used to talk
about Kane - did she ever happen to say
anything - about Rosebud?
THE CAPTAIN
Rosebud?
Thompson has just handed him a bill. The Captain pockets it.
THE CAPTAIN
Thank you, sir. As a matter of fact,
yesterday afternoon, when it was in
all the papers - I asked her. She
never heard of Rosebud.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940
An excruciatingly noble interpretation of Mr. Thatcher himself
executed in expensive marble. He is shown seated on one of those
improbable Edwin Booth chairs and is looking down, his stone eyes
fixed on the camera.
We move down off of this, showing the impressive pedestal on which the
monument is founded. The words, "Walter Parks Thatcher" are
prominently and elegantly engraved thereon. Immediately below the
inscription we encounter, in a medium shot, the person of Bertha
Anderson, an elderly, manish spinnster, seated behind her desk.
Thompson, his hat in his hand, is standing before her. Bertha is on
the phone.
BERTHA
(into phone)
Yes. I'll take him in now.
(hangs up and looks at
Thompson)
The directors of the Thatcher Library
have asked me to remind you again of
the condition under which you may
inspect certain portions of Mr.
Thatcher's unpublished memoirs. Under
no circumstances are direct quotations
from his manuscript to be used by you.
THOMPSON
That's all right.
BERTHA
You may come with me.
Without watching whether he is following her or not, she rises and
starts towards a distant and imposingly framed door. Thompson, with a
bit of a sigh, follows.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940
A room with all the warmth and charm of Napolean's tomb.
As we dissolve in, the door opens in and we see past Thompson's
shoulders the length of the room. Everything very plain, very much
made out of marble and very gloomy. Illumination from a skylight
above adds to the general air of expensive and classical despair. The
floor is marble, and there is a gigantic, mahogany table in the center
of everything. Beyond this is to be seen, sunk in the marble wall at
the far end of the room, the safe from which a guard, in a khaki
uniform, with a revolver holster at his hip, is extracting the journal
of Walter P. Thatcher. He brings it to Bertha as if he were the
guardian of a bullion shipment. During this, Bertha has been
speaking.
BERTHA
(to the guard)
Pages eighty-three to one hundred
and forty-two, Jennings.
GUARD
Yes, Miss Anderson.
BERTHA
(to Thompson)
You will confine yourself, it is our
understanding, to the chapter dealing
with Mr. Kane.
THOMPSON
That's all I'm interested in.
The guard has, by this time, delivered the precious journal. Bertha
places it reverently on the table before Thompson.
BERTHA
You will be required to leave this
room at four-thirty promptly.
She leaves. Thompson starts to light a cigarette. The guard shakes
his head. With a sigh, Thompson bends over to read the manuscript.
Camera moves down over his shoulder onto page of manuscript.
Manuscript, neatly and precisely written:
"CHARLES FOSTER KANE
WHEN THESE LINES APPEAR IN PRINT, FIFTY YEARS AFTER MY DEATH, I AM
CONFIDENT THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WILL AGREE WITH MY OPINION OF CHARLES
FOSTER KANE, ASSUMING THAT HE IS NOT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN, WHICH
I REGARD AS EXTREMELY LIKELY. A GOOD DEAL OF NONSENSE HAS APPEARED
ABOUT MY FIRST MEETING WITH KANE, WHEN HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD... THE
FACTS ARE SIMPLE. IN THE WINTER OF 1870..."
The camera has not held on the entire page. It has been following the
words with the same action that the eye does the reading. On the last
words, the white page of the paper
DISSOLVES INTO:
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
The white of a great field of snow, seen from the angle of a parlor
window.
In the same position of the last word in above Insert, appears the
tiny figure of Charles Foster Kane, aged five (almost like an animated
cartoon). He is in the act of throwing a snowball at the camera. It
sails toward us and over our heads, out of scene.
Reverse angle - on the house featuring a large sign reading:
MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE
HIGH CLASS MEALS AND LODGING
INQUIRE WITHIN
Charles Kane's snowball hits the sign.
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Camera is angling through the window, but the window-frame is not cut
into scene. We see only the field of snow again, same angle as in
previous scene. Charles is manufacturing another snowball. Now -
Camera pulls back, the frame of the window appearing, and we are
inside the parlor of the boardinghouse. Mrs. Kane, aged about 28, is
looking out towards her son. Just as we take her in she speaks:
MRS. KANE
(calling out)
Be careful, Charles!
THATCHER'S VOICE
Mrs. Kane -
MRS. KANE
(calling out the window
almost on top of this)
Pull your muffler around your neck,
Charles -
But Charles, deliriously happy in the snow, is oblivious to this and
is running away. Mrs. Kane turns into camera and we see her face - a
strong face, worn and kind.
THATCHER'S VOICE
I think we'll have to tell him now -
Camera now pulls back further, showing Thatcher standing before a
table on which is his stove-pipe hat and an imposing multiplicity of
official-looking documents. He is 26 and, as might be expected, a
very stuffy young man, already very expensive and conservative
looking, even in Colorado.
MRS. KANE
I'll sign those papers -
KANE SR.
You people seem to forget that I'm
the boy's father.
At the sound of Kane Sr.'s voice, both have turned to him and the
camera pulls back still further, taking him in.
Kane Sr., who is the assistant curator in a livery stable, has been
groomed as elegantly as is likely for this meeting ever since
daybreak.
From outside the window can be heard faintly the wild and cheerful
cries of the boy, blissfully cavorting in the snow.
MRS. KANE
It's going to be done exactly the
way I've told Mr. Thatcher -
KANE SR.
If I want to, I can go to court.
A father has a right to -
THATCHER
(annoyed)
Mr. Kane, the certificates that Mr.
Graves left here are made out to Mrs.
Kane, in her name. Hers to do with
as she pleases -
KANE SR.
Well, I don't hold with signing my
boy away to any bank as guardian
just because -
MRS. KANE
(quietly)
I want you to stop all this nonsense,
Jim.
THATCHER
The Bank's decision in all matters
concerning his education, his place of
residence and similar subjects will be
final.
(clears his throat)
KANE SR.
The idea of a bank being the guardian -
Mrs. Kane has met his eye. Her triumph over him finds expression in
his failure to finish his sentence.
MRS. KANE
(even more quietly)
I want you to stop all this nonsense,
Jim.
THATCHER
We will assume full management of the
Colorado Lode - of which you, Mrs. Kane,
are the sole owner.
Kane Sr. opens his mouth once or twice, as if to say something, but
chokes down his opinion.
MRS. KANE
(has been reading past
Thatcher's shoulder as he
talked)
Where do I sign, Mr. Thatcher?
THATCHER
Right here, Mrs. Kane.
KANE SR.
(sulkily)
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen.
KANE SR.
Mary, I'm asking you for the last
time - anyon'd think I hadn't been
a good husband and a -
Mrs. Kane looks at him slowly. He stops his speech.
THATCHER
The sum of fifty thousand dollars a
year is to be paid to yourself and
Mr. Kane as long as you both live,
and thereafter the survivor -
Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs.
KANE SR.
Well, let's hope it's all for the best.
MRS. KANE
It is. Go on, Mr. Thatcher -
Mrs. Kane, listening to Thatcher, of course has had her other ear bent
in the direction of the boy's voice. Thatcher is aware both of the
boy's voice, which is counter to his own, and of Mrs. Kane's divided
attention. As he pauses, Kane Sr. genteelly walks over to close the
window.
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Jr., seen from Kane Sr.'s position at the window. He is
advancing on the snowman, snowballs in his hands, dropping to one knee
the better to confound his adversary.
KANE
If the rebels want a fight boys,
let's give it to 'em!
He throws two snowballs, missing widely, and gets up and advances
another five feet before getting on his knees again.
KANE
The terms are underconditional
surrender. Up and at 'em! The
Union forever!
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Sr. closes the window.
THATCHER
(over the boy's voice)
Everything else - the principal as
well as all monies earned - is to be
administered by the bank in trust for
your son, Charles Foster Kane, until
his twenty-fifth birthday, at which
time he is to come into complete
possession.
Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window.
MRS. KANE
Go on, Mr. Thatcher.
Thatcher continues as she opens the window. His voice, as before, is
heard with overtones of the boy's.
EXT. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Jr., seen from Mrs. Kane's position at the window. He is now
within ten feet of the snowman, with one snowball left which he is
holding back in his right hand.
KANE
You can't lick Andy Jackson! Old
Hickory, that's me!
He fires his snowball, well wide of the mark and falls flat on his
stomach, starting to crawl carefully toward the snowman.
THATCHER'S VOICE
It's nearly five, Mrs. Kane, don't
you think I'd better meet the boy -
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Mrs. Kane at the window. Thatcher is now standing at her side.
MRS. KANE
I've got his trunk all packed -
(she chokes a little)
I've it packed for a couple of weeks -
She can't say anymore. She starts for the hall day. Kane Sr., ill at
ease, has no idea of how to comfort her.
THATCHER
I've arranged for a tutor to meet
us in Chicago. I'd have brought
him along with me, but you were so
anxious to keep everything secret -
He stops as he realizes that Mrs. Kane has paid no attention to him
and, having opened the door, is already well into the hall that leads
to the side door of the house. He takes a look at Kane Sr., tightens
his lips and follows Mrs. Kane. Kane, shoulders thrown back like one
who bears defeat bravely, follows him.
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane, in the snow-covered field. With the snowman between him and the
house, he is holding the sled in his hand, just about to make the
little run that prefaces a belly-flop. The Kane house, in the
background, is a dilapidated, shabby, two-story frame building, with a
wooden outhouse. Kane looks up as he sees the single file procession,
Mrs. Kane at its head, coming toward him.
KANE
H'ya, Mom.
Mrs. Kane smiles.
KANE
(gesturing at the snowman)
See, Mom? I took the pipe out of
his mouth. If it keeps on snowin',
maybe I'll make some teeth and -
MRS. KANE
You better come inside, son. You
and I have got to get you all ready
for - for -
THATCHER
Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher -
MRS. KANE
This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles.
THATCHER
How do you do, Charles?
KANE SR.
He comes from the east.
KANE
Hello. Hello, Pop.
KANE SR.
Hello, Charlie!
MRS. KANE
Mr. Thatcher is going to take you on
a trip with him tonight, Charles.
You'll be leaving on Number Ten.
KANE SR.
That's the train with all the lights.
KANE
You goin', Mom?
THATCHER
Your mother won't be going right away,
Charles -
KANE
Where'm I going?
KANE SR.
You're going to see Chicago and New
York - and Washington, maybe...
Isn't he, Mr. Thatcher?
THATCHER
(heartily)
He certainly is. I wish I were a
little boy and going to make a trip
like that for the first time.
KANE
Why aren't you comin' with us, Mom?
MRS. KANE
We have to stay here, Charles.
KANE SR.
You're going to live with Mr. Thatcher
from now on, Charlie! You're going to
be rich. Your Ma figures - that is,
er - she and I have decided that this
isn't the place for you to grow up in.
You'll probably be the richest man in
America someday and you ought to -
MRS. KANE
You won't be lonely, Charles...
THATCHER
We're going to have a lot of good times
together, Charles... Really we are.
Kane stares at him.
THATCHER
Come on, Charles. Let's shake hands.
(extends his hand. Charles
continues to look at him)
Now, now! I'm not as frightening as
all that! Let's shake, what do you
say?
He reaches out for Charles's hand. Without a word, Charles hits him
in the stomach with the sled. Thatcher stumbles back a few feet,
gasping.
THATCHER
(with a sickly grin)
You almost hurt me, Charles.
(moves towards him)
Sleds aren't to hit people with.
Sleds are to - to sleigh on. When
we get to New York, Charles, we'll
get you a sled that will -
He's near enough to try to put a hand on Kane's shoulder. As he does,
Kane kicks him in the ankle.
MRS. KANE
Charles!
He throws himself on her, his arms around her. Slowly Mrs. Kane puts
her arms around him.
KANE
(frightened)
Mom! Mom!
MRS. KANE
It's all right, Charles, it's all
right.
Thatcher is looking on indignantly, occasionally bending over to rub
his ankle.
KANE SR.
Sorry, Mr. Thatcher! What the kid
needs is a good thrashing!
MRS. KANE
That's what you think, is it, Jim?
KANE SR.
Yes.
Mrs. Kane looks slowly at Mr. Kane.
MRS. KANE
(slowly)
That's why he's going to be brought
up where you can't get at him.
DISSOLVE:
1870 - NIGHT (STOCK OR MINIATURE)
Old-fashioned railroad wheels underneath a sleeper, spinning along the
track.
DISSOLVE:
INT. TRAIN - OLD-FASHIONED DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT - 1870
Thatcher, with a look of mingled exasperation, annoyance, sympathy and
inability to handle the situation, is standing alongside a berth,
looking at Kane. Kane, his face in the pillow, is crying with
heartbreaking sobs.
KANE
Mom! Mom!
DISSOLVE OUT:
The white page of the Thatcher manuscript. We pick up the words:
"HE WAS, I REPEAT, A COMMON ADVENTURER, SPOILED, UNSCRUPULOUS,
IRRESPONSIBLE."
The words are followed by printed headline on "Enquirer" copy (as in
following scene).
INT. ENQUIRER CITY ROOM - DAY - 1898
Close-up on printed headline which reads:
"ENEMY ARMADA OFF JERSEY COAST"
Camera pulls back to reveal Thatcher holding the "Enquirer" copy, on
which we read the headline. He is standing near the editorial round
table around which a section of the staff, including Reilly, Leland
and Kane are eating lunch.
THATCHER
(coldly)
Is that really your idea of how to
run a newspaper?
KANE
I don't know how to run a newspaper,
Mr. Thatcher. I just try everything
I can think of.
THATCHER
(reading headline of paper
he is still holding)
"Enemy Armada Off Jersey Coast." You
know you haven't the slightest proof
that this - this armada - is off the
Jersey Coast.
KANE
Can you prove it isn't?
Bernstein has come into the picture. He has a cable in his hand. He
stops when he sees Thatcher.
KANE
Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Thatcher -
BERNSTEIN
How are you, Mr. Thatcher?
THATCHER
How do you do? -
BERNSTEIN
We just had a wire from Cuba, Mr. Kane -
(stops, embarrassed)
KANE
That's all right. We have no secrets
from our readers. Mr. Thatcher is
one of our most devoted readers, Mr.
Bernstein. He knows what's wrong with
every issue since I've taken charge.
What's the cable?
BERNSTEIN
(reading)
The food is marvelous in Cuba the
senoritas are beautiful stop I could
send you prose poems of palm trees and
sunrises and tropical colors blending in
far off landscapes but don't feel right
in spending your money for this stop
there's no war in Cuba regards Wheeler.
THATCHER
You see! There hasn't been a true word -
KANE
I think we'll have to send our friend
Wheeler a cable, Mr. Bernstein. Of
course, we'll have to make it shorter
than his, because he's working on an
expense account and we're not. Let
me see -
(snaps his fingers)
Mike!
MIKE
(a fairly tough customer
prepares to take dictation,
his mouth still full of food)
Go ahead, Mr. Kane.
KANE
Dear Wheeler -
(pauses a moment)
You provide the prose poems - I'll
provide the war.
Laughter from the boys and girls at the table.
BERNSTEIN
That's fine, Mr. Kane.
KANE
I rather like it myself. Send it
right away.
MIKE
Right away.
BERNSTEIN
Right away.
Mike and Bernstein leave. Kane looks up, grinning at Thatcher, who is
bursting with indignation but controls himself. After a moment of
indecision, he decides to make one last try.
THATCHER
I came to see you, Charles, about
your - about the Enquirer's campaign
against the Metropolitan Transfer
Company.
KANE
Won't you step into my office, Mr.
Thatcher?
They cross the City Room together.
THATCHER
I think I should remind you, Charles,
of a fact you seem to have forgotten.
You are yourself one of the largest
individual stockholders.
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - DAY - 1898
Kane holds the door open for Thatcher. They come in together.
KANE
Mr. Thatcher, isn't everything I've
been saying in the Enquirer about
the traction trust absolutely true?
THATCHER
(angrily)
They're all part of your general
attack - your senseless attack -
on everything and everybody who's
got more than ten cents in his pocket.
They're -
KANE
The trouble is, Mr. Thatcher, you
don't realize you're talking to
two people.
Kane moves around behind his desk. Thatcher doesn't understand, looks
at him.
KANE
As Charles Foster Kane, who has eighty-two
thousand, six hundred
and thirty-one shares of Metropolitan
Transfer - you see, I do have a rough
idea of my holdings - I sympathize
with you. Charles Foster Kane is a
dangerous scoundrel, his paper should
be run out of town and a committee
should be formed to boycott him. You
may, if you can form such a committee,
put me down for a contribution of one
thousand dollars.
THATCHER
(angrily)
Charles, my time is too valuable for
me -
KANE
On the other hand -
(his manner becomes serious)
I am the publisher of the Enquirer.
As such, it is my duty - I'll let you
in on a little secret, it is also my
pleasure - to see to it that decent,
hard-working people of this city are
not robbed blind by a group of money-
mad pirates because, God help them,
they have no one to look after their
interests! I'll let you in on another
little secret, Mr. Thatcher. I think
I'm the man to do it. You see, I have
money and property -
Thatcher doesn't understand him.
KANE
If I don't defend the interests of
the underprivileged, somebody else
will - maybe somebody without any
money or any property and that would
be too bad.
Thatcher glares at him, unable to answer. Kane starts to dance.
KANE
Do you know how to tap, Mr. Thatcher?
You ought to learn -
(humming quietly, he
continues to dance)
Thatcher puts on his hat.
THATCHER
I happened to see your consolidated
statement yesterday, Charles. Could
I not suggest to you that it is
unwise for you to continue this
philanthropic enterprise -
(sneeringly)
this Enquirer - that is costing you
one million dollars a year?
KANE
You're right. We did lose a million
dollars last year.
Thatcher thinks maybe the point has registered.
KANE
We expect to lost a million next
year, too. You know, Mr. Thatcher -
(starts tapping quietly)
at the rate of a million a year -
we'll have to close this place in
sixty years.
DISSOLVE:
INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY
Thompson - at the desk. With a gesture of annoyance, he is closing
the manuscript.
Camera arcs quickly around from over his shoulder to hold on door
behind him, missing his face as he rises and turns to confront Miss
Anderson, who has come into the room to shoo him out. Very prominent
on this wall is an over-sized oil painting of Thatcher in the best
Union League Club renaissance style.
MISS ANDERSON
You have enjoyed a very rare
privilege, young man. Did you find
what you were looking for?
THOMPSON
No. Tell me something, Miss Anderson.
You're not Rosebud, are you?
MISS ANDERSON
What?
THOMPSON
I didn't think you were. Well, thanks
for the use of the hall.
He puts his hat on his head and starts out, lighting a cigarette as he
goes. Miss Anderson, scandalized, watches him.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER SKYSCRAPER - DAY - 1940
Closeup of a still of Kane, aged about sixty-five. Camera pulls back,
showing it is a framed photograph on the wall. Over the picture are
crossed American flags. Under it sits Bernstein, back of his desk.
Bernstein, always an undersized Jew, now seems even smaller than in
his youth. He is bald as an egg, spry, with remarkably intense eyes.
As camera continues to travel back, the back of Thompson's head and
his shoulders come into the picture.
BERNSTEIN
(wryly)
Who's a busy man? Me? I'm Chairman
of the Board. I got nothing but time
... What do you want to know?
THOMPSON
(still explaining)
Well, Mr. Bernstein, you were with Mr.
Kane from the very beginning -
BERNSTEIN
From before the beginning, young fellow.
And now it's after the end.
(turns to Thompson)
Anything you want to know about him -
about the paper -
THOMPSON
- We thought maybe, if we can find out
what he meant by that last word - as he
was dying -
BERNSTEIN
That Rosebud? Maybe some girl? There
were a lot of them back in the early
days, and -
THOMPSON
Not some girl he knew casually and
then remembered after fifty years,
on his death bed -
BERNSTEIN
You're pretty young, Mr. -
(remembers the name)
Mr. Thompson. A fellow will remember
things you wouldn't think he'd remember.
You take me. One day, back in 1896, I
was crossing over to Jersey on a ferry
and as we pulled out, there was another
ferry pulling in -
(slowly)
- and on it, there was a girl waiting
to get off. A white dress she had on
- and she was carrying a white pastrol
- and I only saw her for one second and
she didn't see me at all - but I'll bet
a month hasn't gone by since that I
haven't thought of that girl.
(triumphantly)
See what I mean?
(smiles)
Well, so what are you doing about this
"Rosebud," Mr. Thompson.
THOMPSON
I'm calling on people who knew Mr. Kane.
I'm calling on you.
BERNSTEIN
Who else you been to see?
THOMPSON
Well, I went down to Atlantic City -
BERNSTEIN
Susie? I called her myself the day
after he died. I thought maybe
somebody ought to...
(sadly)
She couldn't even come to the 'phone.
THOMPSON
You know why? She was so -
BERNSTEIN
Sure, sure.
THOMPSON
I'm going back there.
BERNSTEIN
Who else did you see?
THOMPSON
Nobody else, but I've been through
that stuff of Walter Thatcher's.
That journal of his -
BERNSTEIN
Thatcher! That man was the biggest
darn fool I ever met -
THOMPSON
He made an awful lot of money.
BERNSTEIN
It's not trick to make an awful lot
of money if all you want is to make
a lot of money.
(his eyes get reflective)
Thatcher!
Bernstein looks out of the window and keeps on looking, seeming to see
something as he talks.
BERNSTEIN
He never knew there was anything in
the world but money. That kind of
fellow you can fool every day in the
week - and twice on Sundays!
(reflectively)
The time he came to Rome for Mr. Kane's
twenty-fifth birthday... You know,
when Mr. Kane got control of his own
money... Such a fool like Thatcher -
I tell you, nobody's business!
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940
Bernstein speaking to Thompson.
BERNSTEIN
He knew what he wanted, Mr. Kane did,
and he got it! Thatcher never did
figure him out. He was hard to figure
sometimes, even for me. Mr. Kane was
a genius like he said. He had that
funny sense of humor. Sometimes even
I didn't get the joke. Like that night
the opera house of his opened in
Chicago... You know, the opera house
he built for Susie, she should be an
opera singer...
(indicates with a little wave
of his hand what he thinks of
that; sighing)
That was years later, of course - 1914
it was. Mrs. Kane took the leading part
in the opera, and she was terrible. But
nobody had the nerve to say so - not even
the critics. Mr. Kane was a big man in
those days. But this one fellow, this
friend of his, Branford Leland -
He leaves the sentence up in the air, as we
DISSOLVE:
INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
It is late. The room is almost empty. Nobody is at work at the
desks. Bernstein, fifty, is waiting anxiously with a little group of
Kane's hirelings, most of them in evening dress with overcoats and
hats. Eveybody is tense and expectant.
CITY EDITOR
(turns to a young hireling;
quietly)
What about Branford Leland? Has he
got in his copy?
HIRELING
Not yet.
BERNSTEIN
Go in and ask him to hurry.
CITY EDITOR
Well, why don't you, Mr. Bernstein?
You know Mr. Leland.
BERNSTEIN
(looks at him for a moment;
then slowly)
I might make him nervous.
CITY EDITOR
(after a pause)
You and Leland and Mr. Kane - you were
great friends back in the old days, I
understand.
BERNSTEIN
(with a smile)
That's right. They called us the
"Three Musketeers."
Somebody behind Bernstein has trouble concealing his laughter. The
City Editor speaks quickly to cover the situation.
CITY EDITOR
He's a great guy - Leland.
(another little pause)
Why'd he ever leave New York?
BERNSTEIN
(he isn't saying)
That's a long story.
ANOTHER HIRELING
(a tactless one)
Wasn't there some sort of quarrel between -
BERNSTEIN
(quickly)
I had nothing to do with it.
(then, somberly)
It was Leland and Mr. Kane, and you
couldn't call it a quarrel exactly.
Better we should forget such things -
(turning to City Editor)
Leland is writing it up from the dramatic
angle?
CITY EDITOR
Yes. I thought it was a good idea.
We've covered it from the news end,
of course.
BERNSTEIN
And the social. How about the music
notice? You got that in?
CITY EDITOR
Oh, yes, it's already made up. Our
Mr. Mervin wrote a small review.
BERNSTEIN
Enthusiastic?
CITY EDITOR
Yes, very!
(quietly)
Naturally.
BERNSTEIN
Well, well - isn't that nice?
KANE'S VOICE
Mr. Bernstein -
Bernstein turns.
Medium long shot of Kane, now forty-nine, already quite stout. He is
in white tie, wearing his overcoat and carrying a folded opera hat.
BERNSTEIN
Hello, Mr. Kane.
The Hirelings rush, with Bernstein, to Kane's side. Widespread,
half-suppressed sensation.
CITY EDITOR
Mr. Kane, this is a surprise!
KANE
We've got a nice plant here.
Everybody falls silent. There isn't anything to say.
KANE
Was the show covered by every department?
CITY EDITOR
Exactly according to your instructions,
Mr. Kane. We've got two spreads of
pictures.
KANE
(very, very casually)
And the notice?
CITY EDITOR
Yes - Mr. Kane.
KANE
(quietly)
Is it good?
CITY EDITOR
Yes, Mr. kane.
Kane looks at him for a minute.
CITY EDITOR
But there's another one still to come
- the dramatic notice.
KANE
(sharply)
It isn't finished?
CITY EDITOR
No, Mr. Kane.
KANE
That's Leland, isn't it?
CITY EDITOR
Yes, Mr. Kane.
KANE
Has he said when he'll finish?
CITY EDITOR
We haven't heard from him.
KANE
He used to work fast - didn't he,
Mr. Bernstein?
BERNSTEIN
He sure did, Mr. Kane.
KANE
Where is he?
ANOTHER HIRELING
Right in there, Mr. Kane.
The Hireling indicates the closed glass door of a little office at the
other end of the City Room. Kane takes it in.
BERNSTEIN
(helpless, but very concerned)
Mr. Kane -
KANE
That's all right, Mr. Bernstein.
Kane crosses the length of the long City Room to the glass door
indicated before by the Hireling. The City Editor looks at Bernstein.
Kane opens the door and goes into the office, closing the door behind
him.
BERNSTEIN
Leland and Mr. Kane - they haven't
spoke together for ten years.
(long pause; finally)
Excuse me.
(starts toward the door)
INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Bernstein comes in. An empty bottle is standing on Leland's desk. He
has fallen over his typewriter, his face on the keys. A sheet of
paper is in the machine. A paragraph has been typed. Kane is
standing at the other side of the desk looking down on him. This is
the first time we see murder in Kane's face. Bernstein looks at Kane,
then crosses to Leland. He shakes him.
BERNSTEIN
Hey, Brad! Brad!
(he straightens, looks at
Kane; pause)
He ain't been drinking before, Mr. Kane.
Never. We would have heard.
KANE
(finally; after a pause)
What does it say there?
Bernstein stares at him.
KANE
What's he written?
Bernstein looks over nearsightedly, painfully reading the paragraph
written on the page.
BERNSTEIN
(reading)
"Miss Susan Alexander, a pretty but
hopelessly incompetent amateur -
(he waits for a minute to
catch his breath; he doesn't
like it)
- last night opened the new Chicago
Opera House in a performance of - of
-"
(looks up miserably)
I can't pronounce that name, Mr. Kane.
KANE
Thais.
Bernstein looks at Kane for a moment, then looks back, tortured.
BERNSTEIN
(reading again)
"Her singing, happily, is no concern
of this department. Of her acting,
it is absolutely impossible to..."
(he continues to stare at
the page)
KANE
(after a short silence)
Go on!
BERNSTEIN
(without looking up)
That's all there is.
Kane snatches the paper from the roller and reads it for himself.
Slowly, a queer look comes over his face. Then he speaks, very
quietly.
KANE
Of her acting, it is absolutely
impossible to say anything except
that it represents a new low...
(then sharply)
Have you got that, Mr. Bernstein?
In the opinion of this reviewer -
BERNSTEIN
(miserably)
I didn't see that.
KANE
It isn't here, Mr. Bernstein. I'm
dictating it.
BERNSTEIN
(looks at him)
I can't take shorthand.
KANE
Get me a typewriter. I'll finish
the notice.
Bernstein retreats from the room.
QUICK DISSOLVE OUT:
QUICK DISSOLVE IN:
INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Long shot of Kane in his shirt sleeves, illuminated by a desk light,
typing furiously. As the camera starts to pull even farther away from
this, and as Bernstein - as narrator - begins to speak -
QUICK DISSOLVE:
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940
Bernstein speaking to Thompson.
BERNSTEIN
He finished it. He wrote the worst
notice I ever read about the girl he
loved. We ran it in every paper.
THOMPSON
(after a pause)
I guess Mr. Kane didn't think so well
of Susie's art anyway.
BERNSTEIN
(looks at him very soberly)
He thought she was great, Mr. Thompson.
He really believed that. He put all
his ambition on that girl. After she
came along, he never really cared for
himself like he used to. Oh, I don't
blame Susie -
THOMPSON
Well, then, how could he write that
roast? The notices in the Kane papers
were always very kind to her.
BERNSTEIN
Oh, yes. He saw to that. I tell you,
Mr. Thompson, he was a hard man to
figure out. He had that funny sense
of humor. And then, too, maybe he
thought by finishing that piece he
could show Leland he was an honest man.
You see, Leland didn't think so. I
guess he showed him all right. He's a
nice fellow, but he's a dreamer. They
were always together in those early days
when we just started the Enquirer.
On these last words, we
DISSOLVE:
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1891
The front half of the second floor constitutes one large City Room.
Despite the brilliant sunshine outside, very little of it is actually
getting into the room because the windows are small and narrow. There
are about a dozen tables and desks, of the old-fashioned type, not
flat, available for reporters. Two tables, on a raised platform at
the end of the room, obviously serve the city room executives. To the
left of the platform is an open door which leads into the Sanctrum.
As Kane and Leland enter the room, an elderly, stout gent on the
raised platform, strikes a bell and the other eight occupants of the
room - all men - rise and face the new arrivals. Carter, the elderly
gent, in formal clothes, rises and starts toward them.
CARTER
Welcome, Mr. Kane, to the "Enquirer."
I am Herbert Carter.
KANE
Thank you, Mr Carter. This is Mr.
Leland.
CARTER
(bowing)
How do you do, Mr. Leland?
KANE
(pointing to the standing
reporters)
Are they standing for me?
CARTER
I thought it would be a nice gesture
- the new publisher -
KANE
(grinning)
Ask them to sit down.
CARTER
You may resume your work, gentlemen.
(to Kane)
I didn't know your plans and so I was
unable to make any preparations.
KANE
I don't my plans myself.
They are following Carter to his raised platform.
KANE
As a matter of fact, I haven't got
any. Except to get out a newspaper.
There is a terrific crash at the doorway. They all turn to see
Bernstein sprawled at the entrance. A roll of bedding, a suitcase,
and two framed pictures were too much for him.
KANE
Oh, Mr. Bernstein!
Bernstein looks up.
KANE
If you would come here a moment,
please, Mr. Bernstein?
Bernstein rises and comes over, tidying himself as he comes.
KANE
Mr. Carter, this is Mr. Bernstein.
Mr. Bernstein is my general manager.
CARTER
(frigidly)
How do you do, Mr. Bernstein?
KANE
You've got a private office here,
haven't you?
The delivery wagon driver has now appeared in the entrance with parts
of the bedstead and other furniture. He is looking about, a bit
bewildered.
CARTER
(indicating open door to
left of platform)
My little sanctum is at your disposal.
But I don't think I understand -
KANE
I'm going to live right here.
(reflectively)
As long as I have to.
CARTER
But a morning newspaper, Mr. Kane.
After all, we're practically closed
twelve hours a day - except for the
business offices -
KANE
That's one of the things I think
must be changed, Mr. Carter. The
news goes on for twenty-four hours
a day.
DISSOLVE:
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - LATE DAY - 1891
Kane, in his shirt sleeves, at a roll-top desk in the Sanctum, is
working feverishly on copy and eating a very sizeable meal at the same
time. Carter, still formally coated, is seated alongside him.
Leland, seated in a corner, is looking on, detached, amused. The
furniture has been pushed around and Kane's effects are somewhat in
place. On a corner of the desk, Bernstein is writing down figures.
No one pays any attention to him.
KANE
I'm not criticizing, Mr. Carter,
but here's what I mean. There's a
front page story in the "Chronicle,"
(points to it)
and a picture - of a woman in Brooklyn
who is missing. Probably murdered.
(looks to make sure of the name)
A Mrs. Harry Silverstone. Why didn't
the "Enquirer" have that this morning?
CARTER
(stiffly)
Because we're running a newspaper, Mr.
Kane, not a scandal sheet.
Kane has finished eating. He pushes away his plates.
KANE
I'm still hungry, Brad. Let's go
to Rector's and get something decent.
(pointing to the "Chronicle"
before him)
The "Chronicle" has a two-column
headline, Mr. Carter. Why haven't we?
CARTER
There is no news big enough.
KANE
If the headline is big enough, it
makes the new big enough. The murder
of Mrs. Harry Silverstone -
CARTER
(hotly)
As a matter of fact, we sent a man
to the Silverstone home yesterday
afternoon.
(triumphantly)
Our man even arrived before the
"Chronicle" reporter. And there's no
proof that the woman was murdered -
or even that she's dead.
KANE
(smiling a bit)
The "Chronicle" doesn't say she's
murdered, Mr. Carter. It says the
neighbors are getting suspicious.
CARTER
(stiffly)
It's not our function to report the
gossip of housewives. If we were
interested in that kind of thing,
Mr. Kane, we could fill the paper
twice over daily -
KANE
(gently)
That's the kind of thing we are
going to be interested in from now
on, Mr. Carter. Right now, I wish
you'd send your best man up to see
Mr. Silverstone. Have him tell Mr.
Silverstone if he doesn't produce his
wife at once, the "Enquirer" will
have him arrested.
(he gets an idea)
Have him tell Mr. Silverstone he's a
detective from the Central Office.
If Mr. Silverstone asks to see his
badge, your man is to get indignant
and call Mr. Silverstone an anarchist.
Loudly, so that the neighbors can hear.
CARTER
Really, Mr. Kane, I can't see the
function of a respectable newspaper -
Kane isn't listening to him.
KANE
Oh, Mr. Bernstein!
Bernstein looks up from his figures.
KANE
I've just made a shocking discovery.
The "Enquirer" is without a telephone.
Have two installed at once!
BERNSTEIN
I ordered six already this morning!
Got a discount!
Kane looks at Leland with a fond nod of his head at Bernstein. Leland
grins back. Mr. Carter, meantime, has risen stiffly.
CARTER
But, Mr. Kane -
KANE
That'll be all today, Mr. Carter.
You've been most understanding.
Good day, Mr. Carter!
Carter, with a look that runs just short of apoplexy, leaves the room,
closing the door behind him.
LELAND
Poor Mr. Carter!
KANE
(shakes his head)
What makes those fellows think that
a newspaper is something rigid,
something inflexible, that people
are supposed to pay two cents for -
BERNSTEIN
(without looking up)
Three cents.
KANE
(calmly)
Two cents.
Bernstein lifts his head and looks at Kane. Kane gazes back at him.
BERNSTEIN
(tapping on the paper)
This is all figured at three cents
a copy.
KANE
Re-figure it, Mr. Bernstein, at
two cents.
BERNSTEIN
(sighs and puts papers
in his pocket)
All right, but I'll keep these figures,
too, just in case.
KANE
Ready for dinner, Brad?
BERNSTEIN
Mr. Leland, if Mr. Kane, he should
decide to drop the price to one cent,
or maybe even he should make up his
mind to give the paper away with a
half-pound of tea - you'll just hold
him until I get back, won't you?
LELAND
I'm not guaranteeing a thing, Mr.
Bernstein. You people work too fast
for me! Talk about new brooms!
BERNSTEIN
Who said anything about brooms?
KANE
It's a saying, Mr. Bernstein. A new
broom sweeps clean.
BERNSTEIN
Oh!
DISSOLVE:
INT.PRIMITIVE COMPOSING AND PRESSROOM - NEW YORK ENQUIRER - NIGHT -
1891
The ground floor witht he windows on the street - of the "Enquirer."
It is almost midnight by an old-fashioned clock on the wall. Grouped
around a large table, on which are several locked forms of type, very
old-fashioned of course, but true to the period - are Kane and Leland
in elegant evening clothes, Bernstein, unchanged from the afternoon,
and Smathers, the composing room foreman, nervous and harassed.
SMATHERS
But it's impossible, Mr. Kane. We
can't remake these pages.
KANE
These pages aren't made up as I want
them, Mr. Smathers. We go to press
in five minutes.
CARTER
(about to crack up)
The "Enquirer" has an old and honored
tradition, Mr. Kane... The "Enquirer"
is not in competition with those other
rags.
BERNSTEIN
We should be publishing such rags,
that's all I wish. Why, the "Enquirer" -
I wouldn't wrap up the liver for the
cat in the "Enquirer" -
CARTER
(enraged)
Mr. Kane, I must ask you to see to
it that this - this person learns to
control his tongue.
Kane looks up.
CARTER
I've been a newspaperman my whole life
and I don't intend -
(he starts to sputter)
- if it's your intention that I should
continue to be harassed by this - this -
(he's really sore)
I warn you, Mr. Kane, it would go against
my grain to desert you when you need me
so badly - but I would feel obliged to
ask that my resignation be accepted.
KANE
It is accepted, Mr. Carter, with
assurances of my deepest regard.
CARTER
But Mr. Kane, I meant -
Kane turns his back on him, speaks again to the composing room
foreman.
KANE
(quietly)
Let's remake these pages, Mr. Smathers.
We'll have to publish a half hour late,
that's all.
SMATHERS
(as though Kane were
talking Greek)
We can't remake them, Mr. Kane. We
go to press in five minutes.
Kane sighs, unperturbed, as he reaches out his hand and shoves the
forms off the table onto the floor, where they scatter into hundreds
of bits.
KANE
You can remake them now, can't you,
Mr. Smathers?
Smather's mouth opens wider and wider. Bradford and Bernstein are
grinning.
KANE
After the types 've been reset and
the pages have been remade according
to the way I told you before, Mr.
Smathers, kindly have proofs pulled
and bring them to me. Then, if I
can't find any way to improve them
again -
(almost as if reluctantly)
- I suppose we'll have to go to press.
He starts out of the room, followed by Leland.
BERNSTEIN
(to Smathers)
In case you don't understand, Mr.
Smathers - he's a new broom.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
EXT. NEW YORK STREET - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891
The picture is mainly occupied by a large building, on the roof of
which the lights spell out the word "Enquirer" against the sunrise.
We do not see the street or the first few stories of this building,
the windows of which would be certainly illuminated. What we do see
is the floor on which is located the City Room. Over this scene,
newboys are heard selling the Chronicle, their voices growing in
volume.
As the dissolve complete itself, camera moves toward the one lighted
window - the window of the Sanctrum.
DISSOLVE:
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891
The newsboys are still heard from the street below - fainter but very
insistent.
Kane's office is gas-lit, of course, as is the rest of the Enquirer
building.
Kane, in his shirt sleeves, stands at the open window looking out.
The bed is already made up. On it is seated Bernstein, smoking the
end of a cigar. Leland is in a chair.
NEWSBOYS' VOICES
CHRONICLE! CHRONICLE! H'YA - THE
CHRONICLE - GET YA! CHRONICLE!
Kane, taking a deep breath of the morning air, closes the window and
turns to the others. The voices of the newsboys, naturally, are very
much fainter after this.
LELAND
We'll be on the street soon, Charlie
- another ten minutes.
BERNSTEIN
(looking at his watch)
It's three hours and fifty minutes
late - but we did it -
Leland rises from the chair, stretching painfully.
KANE
Tired?
LELAND
It's been a tough day.
KANE
A wasted day.
BERNSTEIN
(looking up)
Wasted?
LELAND
(incredulously)
Charlie?!
BERNSTEIN
You just made the paper over four
times today, Mr. Kane. That's all -
KANE
I've changed the front page a little,
Mr. Bernstein. That's not enough -
There's something I've got to get into
this paper besides pictures and print
- I've got to make the "New York
Enquirer" as important to New York as
the gas in that light.
LELAND
(quietly)
What're you going to do, Charlie?
Kane looks at him for a minute with a queer smile of happy
concentration.
KANE
My Declaration of Principles -
(he says it with quotes
around it)
Don't smile, Brad -
(getting the idea)
Take dictation, Mr. Bernstein -
BERNSTEIN
I can't take shorthand, Mr. Kane -
KANE
I'll write it myself.
Kane grabs a piece of rough paper and a grease crayon. Sitting down
on the bed next to Bernstein, he starts to write.
BERNSTEIN
(looking over his shoulder)
You don't wanta make any promises,
Mr. Kane, you don't wanta keep.
KANE
(as he writes)
These'll be kept.
(stops for a minute and
reads what he has written;
reading)
I'll provide the people of this city
with a daily paper that will tell
all the news honestly.
(starts to write again;
reading as he writes)
I will also provide them -
LELAND
That's the second sentence you've
started with "I" -
KANE
(looking up)
People are going to know who's
responsible. And they're going to
get the news - the true news -
quickly and simply and entertainingly.
(he speaks with real
conviction)
And no special interests will be
allowed to interfere with the truth
of that news.
He looks at Leland for a minute and goes back to his writing, reading
as he writes.
Bernstein has risen and crossed to one side of Kane. They both stand
looking out. Leland joins him on the other side. Their three heads
are silhouetted against the sky. Leland's head is seen to turn
slightly as he looks into Kane's face - camera very close on this -
Kane turns to him and we know their eyes have met, although their
faces are almost in sillhouette. Bernstein is still smoking a cigar.
DISSOLVE:
Front page of the "Enquirer" shows big boxed editorial with heading:
MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION
BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE
Camera continues pulling back and shows newspaper to be on the top of
a pile of newspapers. As we draw further back, we see four piles, and
as camera contines to pull back, we see six piles and go on back until
we see a big field of "Enquirers" - piles of "Enquirers" - all 26,000
copies ready for distribution.
A wagon with a huge sign on its side reading
"ENQUIRER - CIRCULATION 26,000"
passes through foreground, and we wipe to:
A pile of "Enquirers" for sale on a broken down wooden box on a street
corner, obviously a poor district. A couple of coins fall on the
pile.
The stoop of a period door with old-fashioned enamel milk can and a
bag of rolls. Across the sidewalk before this, moves the shadow of an
old-fashioned bicycle with an enormous front wheel. A copy of the
"Enquirer" is tossed on the stoop.
A breakfast table - beautiful linen and beautiful silver - everything
very expensive, gleaming in the sunshine. Into a silver newspaper
rack there is slipped a copy of the "Enquirer". Here, as before, the
boxed editorial reading MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION BY CHARLES
FOSTER KANE, is very prominent on the front page.
The wooden floor of a railroad station, flashing light and dark as a
train behind the camera rushes by. On the floor, there is tossed a
bound bundle of the "New York Enquirer" - the Declaration of
Principles still prominent.
Rural Delivery - a copy of the "Enquirer"s being put into bins,
showing state distribution.
The railroad platform again. We stay here for four images. On each
image, the speed of the train is faster and the piles of the
"Enquirer" are larger. On the first image, we move in to hold on the
words "CIRCULATION - 31,000." We are this close for the next pile
which reads 40,000; the next one which reads 55,000, and the last
which is 62,000. In each instance, the bundles of newspapers are
thicker and the speed of the moving train behind the camera is
increased.
The entire montage above indicated is accompanied by a descriptive
complement of sound - the traffic noises of New York in the 1890's;
wheels on cobblestones and horses' hooves; bicycle bells; the mooning
of cattle and the crowing of roosters (in the RFD shot), and in all
cases where the railroad platform is used - the mounting sound of the
railroad train.
The last figure "62,000" opposite the word "CIRCULATION" on the
"Enquirer" masthead changes to:
EXT. STREET AND CHRONICLE BUIDING - DAY - 1895
Angle up to wall of building - a painter on a cradle is putting the
last zero to the figure "62,000" on an enormous sign advertising the
"Enquirer." It reads:
THE ENQUIRER
THE PEOPLE'S NEWSPAPER
CIRCULATION 62,000
Camera travels down side of building - takes in another building on
which there is a sign which reads:
READ THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION 62,000
Camera continues to travel down to sidewalk in front of the Chronicle
office. The Chronicle office has a plateglass window in which is
reflected traffic moving up and down the street, also the figures of
Kane, Leland and Bernstein, who are munching peanuts.
Inside the window, almost filling it, is a large photograph of the
"Chronicle" staff, with Reilly prominently seated in the center. A
sign over the photo reads: EDITORIAL AND EXECUTIVE STAFF OF THE NEW
YORK CHRONICLE. A sign beneath it reads: GREATEST NEWSPAPER STAFF IN
THE WORLD. The sign also includes the "Chronicle" circulation figure.
There are nine men in the photo.
BERNSTEIN
(looking up at the sign -
happily)
Sixty-two thousand -
LELAND
That looks pretty nice.
KANE
(indicating the Chronicle
Building)
Let's hope they like it there.
BERNSTEIN
From the Chronicle Building that sign
is the biggest thing you can see -
every floor guaranteed - let's hope
it bothers them - it cost us enough.
KANE
(pointing to the sign over
the photograph in the
window)
Look at that.
LELAND
The "Chronicle" is a good newspaper.
KANE
It's a good idea for a newspaper.
(reading the figures)
Four hundred sixy thousand.
BERNSTEIN
Say, with them fellows -
(referring to the photo)
- it's no trick to get circulation.
KANE
You're right, Mr. Bernstein.
BERNSTEIN
(sighs)
You know how long it took the "Chronicle"
to get that staff together? Twenty years.
KANE
I know.
Kane, smiling, lights a cigarette, at the same time looking into the
window. Camera moves in to hold on the photograph of nine men, still
holding the reflection of Kane's smiling face.
DISSOLVE:
INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895
Nine men, arrayed as in the photograph, but with Kane beaming in the
center of the first row. The men, variously with mustaches, beards,
bald heads, etc. are easily identified as being the same men, Reilly
prominent amongst them.
As camera pulls back, it is revealed that they are being photographed
- by an old-type professional photographer, big box, black hood and
all - in a corner of the room. It is 1:30 at night. Desks, etc. have
been pushed against the wall. Running down the center of the room is
a long banquet table, at which twenty diners have finished their
meals. The eleven remaining at their seats - these include Bernstein
and Leland - are amusedly watching the photographic ceremonies.
PHOTOGRAPHER
That's all. Thank you.
The photographic subjects rise.
KANE
(a sudden thought)
Make up an extra copy and mail it
to the "Chronicle."
Chuckling and beaming, he makes his way to his place at the head of
the table. The others have already sat down. Kane gets his guests'
attention by rapping on the table with a knife.
KANE
Gentlemen of the "Enquirer"! This
has, I think, been a fitting welcome
to those distinguished journalists -
(indicates the eight men)
Mr. Reilly in particular - who are
the latest additions to our ranks.
It will make them happy to learn that
the "Enquirer's" circulation this
morning passed the two hundred thousand
mark.
BERNSTEIN
Two hundred and one thousand, six
hundred and forty-seven.
General applause.
KANE
All of you - new and old - You're
all getting the best salaries in
town. Not one of you has been hired
because of his loyalty. It's your
talent I'm interested in. That talent
that's going to make the "Enquirer"
the kind of paper I want - the best
newspaper in the world!
Applause.
KANE
However, I think you'll agree we've
heard enough about newspapers and
the newspaper business for one night.
There are other subjects in the world.
He puts his two fingers in his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle.
This is a signal. A band strikes up a lively ditty of the period and
enters in advance a regiment of very magnificent maidens, as daringly
arrayed as possible in the chorus costumes of the day. The rest of
this episode will be planned and staged later. Its essence is that
Kane is just a healthy and happy young man having a wonderful time.
As some of the girls are detached from the line and made into partners
for individual dancing -
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
The "Enquirer" sign:
THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION
274,321
Dissolve just completes itself - the image of Kane dancing with a girl
on each arm just disappears as camera pans down off the Temple Bldg.
in the same action as the previous street scene. There is a new sign
on the side of the building below. It reads:
READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD
Camera continues panning as we
DISSOLVE:
A montage of various scenes, between the years 1891-1900.
The scenes indicate the growth of the "Enquirer" under the impulse of
Kane's personal drive. Kane is shown, thus, at various activities:
Move down from the sign:
READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD
to street in front of saloon with parade passing (boys going off to
the Spanish-American War)- A torchlight parade with the torches
reflected in the glass window of the saloon - the sound of brass band
playing "It's a Hot Time." In the window of the saloon is a large
sign or poster
"REMEMBER THE MAINE"
INSERT: Remington drawing of American boys, similar to the parade
above, in which "Our Boys" in the expeditionary hats are seen marching
off to war.
Back of observation car. Shot of Kane congratulating Teddy Roosevelt
(the same shot as in the News Digest - without flickering).
The wooden floor of the railroad platform again - a bundle of
"Enquirers" - this time an enormous bundle - is thrown down, and the
moving shadows of the train behind the camera indicate that it is
going like a bat out of hell. A reproduction of Kane and Teddy
shaking hands as above is very prominent in the frame and almost hogs
the entire front page. The headline indicates the surrender of Cuba.
INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE
Cartoon, highly dramatic and very involved as to content - lousy with
captions, labels, and symbolic figures, the most gruesome and
recognizable - "Capitalistic Greed." This cartoon is almost finished
and is on a drawing board before which stand Kane and the artist
himself. Kane is grinning over some suggestion he has made.
DISSOLVE:
The cartoon finished and reproduced on the editorial page of the
"Enquirer" - in quite close, with an editorial and several faces of
caps shown underneath. The entire newspaper is crushed with an angry
gesture and thrown down into an expensive-looking wastebasket (which
is primarily for ticker tape) tape is pouring.
INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE
Cartoonist and Kane working on comic strip of "Johnny the Monk."
DISSOLVE:
Floor of room - Two kids on floor, with newspaper spread out, looking
at the same comic strip.
Kane's photographic gallery with photographers, stooges, and Kane
himself in attendance on a very hot-looking item of the period. A sob
sister is interviewing this hot number and Kane is arranging her dress
to look more seductive.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
The hot number reproduced and prominently displayed and covering
almost half a page of the "Enquirer." It is being read in a barber
shop and is seen in an over-shoulder shot of the man who is reading
it. He is getting a shine, a manicure, and a haircut. The sob-sister
caption over the photograph reveals: "I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING,
SAYS DANCER. EVERYTHING WENT RED." An oval photograph of the gun is
included in the lay-out of the pretty lady with a headline which says:
"DEATH GUN."
STREET - SHOT OF BUCKET BRIGADE
Shot of Kane, in evening clothes, in obvious position of danger,
grabbing camera from photographer. Before him rages a terrific
tenement fire.
DISSOLVE:
INSERT: Headline about inadequacy of present fire equipment.
DISSOLVE:
Final shot of a new horse-drawn steam engine roaring around a street
corner (Stock).
DISSOLVE:
A black pattern of iron bars. We are in a prison cell. The door is
opened and a condemned man, with priest, warden and the usual
attendants, moves into foreground and starts up the hall past a group
which includes phtographers, Kane's sob-sister, and Kane. The
photographers take pictures with a mighty flash of old-fashioned flash
powder. The condemned man in the foreground (in silhouette) is
startled by this.
DISSOLVE:
A copy of the "Enquirer" spread out on a table. A big lay-out of the
execution story includes the killer as photographed by Kane's
photographers, and nearby on the other page there is a large picture
of the new steam fire engine (made from the stock shot) with a
headline indicating that the "Enquirer" has won its campaign for
better equipment. A cup of coffee and a doughnut are on the
newspaper, and a servant girl - over whose shoulder we see the paper -
is stirring the coffee.
The Beaux Art Ball. A number of elderly swells are jammed into a
hallway. Servants suddenly divest them of their furs, overcoats and
wraps, revealing them to be in fancy dress costume, pink fleshings,
etc., the effect to be very surprising, very lavish and very very
ridiculous. We see, among others, Mr. Thatcher himself (as Ben Hur)
ribbon around, his bald head and all. At the conclusion of this
tableau, the image freezes and we pull back to show it reproduced on
the society page of the "New York Enquirer."
Over the "Enquirer"'s pictorial version of the Beaux Art Ball is
thrown a huge fish - then coffee grounds - altogether a pretty
repulsive sight.
The whole thing is bundled up and thrown into a garbage can.
Extreme close-up of the words: "OCCUPATION - JOUNALIST."
Camera pulls back to show passport open to the photograph page which
shows Kane, registering birth, race, and nationality. Passport cover
is closed, showing it to be an American passport.
EXT. CUNARD DOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900
As camera pulls back over shoulder of official, taking in Kane,
Leland, and Bernstein, we see the bustle and noise of departing ocean
liner. Behind the principles can be seen an enormous plain sign which
reads: "FIRST CLASS." From offstage can be heard the steward's cry,
indispensable in any Mercury production, the old familiar cry, "All
Ashore That's Going Ashore!" - gongs, also blasts of the great whistle
and all the rest of it.
THE OFFICIAL
There you are, Mr. Kane. Everything
in order.
KANE
Thank you.
Kane and Leland and Bernstein start up the gangplank.
THE OFFICIAL
(calling)
Have a good rest, Mr. Kane.
KANE
Thanks.
BERNSTEIN
But please, Mr. Kane, don't buy any
more paintings. Nine Venuses already
we got, twenty-six Virgins - two
whole warehouses full of stuff -
KANE
I promise not to bring any more
Venuses and not to worry - and not
to try to get in touch with any of
the papers -
STEWARD'S VOICE
All ashore!
KANE
- and to forget about the new feature
sections - and not to try to think
up and ideas for comic sections.
STEWARD'S VOICE
All ashore that's going ashore!
Kane leaves Leland and Bernstein midway up gangplank, as he rushes up
to it, calling back with a wave:
KANE
Goodbye, gents!
(at the top of the gangplank,
he turns and calls down)
Hey!
KANE
(calling down to them)
You don't expect me to keep any
of those promises, do you?
A band on deck strikes up "Auld Lang Syne." Bernstein and Leland turn
to each other.
BERNSTEIN
Do you, Mr. Leland?
LELAND
(smiling)
Certainly not.
They start down the gangplank together.
DISSOLVE:
LONG SHOT OF THE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT
The pattern of telegraph wires, dripping with rain, through which we
see the same old building but now rendered fairly remarkable by
tremendous outline sign in gold which reads "THE NEW YORK DAILY
ENQUIRER." A couple of lights show in the building. We start toward
the window where the lights show, as we -
DISSOLVE:
EXT. OUTSIDE THE WINDOW AT BERNSTEIN'S DESK - NIGHT
The light in the window in the former shot was showing behind the
letter "E" of the Enquirer sign. Now the letter "E" is even larger
than the frame of the camera. Rain drips disconsolately off the
middle part of the figure. We see through this and through the
drizzle of the window to Bernstein's desk where he sits working under
a blue shaded light.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
Same setup as before except that it is now late afternoon and late in
the winter of the year. The outline "E" is hung with icicles which
are melting, dripping despairingly between us and Mr. Bernstein, still
seated at his desk - still working.
DISSOLVE:
Same setup as before except that it is spring. Instead of the sad
sounds of dripping rain or dripping icicles, we hear the melancholy
cry of a hurdy-gurdy in the street below. It is spring and through
the letter "E" we can see Bernstein working at his desk. Pigeons are
gathering on the "E" and on the sill. Bernstein looks up and sees
them. He takes some crumbs from his little homemade lunch which is
spread out on the desk before him, carries them to the windows and
feeds the pigeons, looking moodily out on the prospect of spring on
Park Row. The birds eat the crumbs - the hurdy-gurdy continues to
play.
DISSOLVE:
The same setup again, it is now summer. The window was half-open
before .. now it's open all the way and Bernstein has gone so far as
to take off his coat. His shirt and his celluloid collar are wringing
wet. Camera moves toward the window to tighten on Bernstein and to
take in the City Room behind him, which is absolutely deserted. It is
clear that there is almost nothing more for Bernstein to do. The
hurdy-gurdy in the street is playing as before, but a new tune.
DISSOLVE:
A beach on Coney Island.
Bernstein in a rented period bathing suit sits alone in the sand,
reading a copy of the "Enquirer."
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900
The whole floor is now a City Room. It is twice its former size, yet
not too large for all the desks and the people using them. The
windows have been enlarged, providing a good deal more light and air.
A wall calendar says September 9th.
Kane and Bernstein enter and stand in the entrance a moment. Kane,
who really did look a bit peaked before, is now clear-eyed and tanned.
He is wearing new English clothes. As they come into the room,
Bernstein practically walking sideways, is doing nothing but beaming
and admiring Kane, quelling like a mother at the Carnegie Hall debut
of her son. Seeing and recognizing Kane, the entire staff rises to
its feet.
KANE
(referring to the staff;
with a smile)
Ask them to sit down, Mr. Bernstein.
BERNSTEIN
Sit down, everybody - for heaven's
sake!
The order is immediately obeyed, everybody going into business of
feverish activity.
BERNSTEIN
So then, tonight, we go over everything
thoroughly, eh? Especially the new
papers -
KANE
We certainly do. Vacation's over -
starting right after dinner. But
right now - that lady over there -
(he indicates a woman
at the desk)
- that's the new society editor, I
take it? You think I could interrupt
her a moment, Mr. Bernstein?
BERNSTEIN
Huh? Oh, I forgot - you've been
away so long I forgot about your
joking -
He trails after Kane as he approaches the Society Editor's desk. The
Society Editor, a middle-aged spinster, sees him approaching and
starts to quake all over, but tries to pretend she isn't aware of him.
An envelope in her hand shakes violently. Kane and Bernstein stop at
her desk.
BERNSTEIN
Miss Townsend -
Miss Townsend looks up and is so surprised to see Bernstein with a
stranger.
MISS TOWNSEND
Good afternoon, Mr. Bernstein.
BERNSTEIN
This is Mr. Kane, Miss Townsend.
Miss Townsend can't stick to her plan. She starts to rise, but her
legs are none too good under her. She knocks over a tray of copy
paper as she rises, and bends to pick it up.
KANE
(very hesitatingly and
very softly)
Miss Townsend -
At the sound of his voice, she straightens up. She is very close to
death from excitement.
KANE
I've been away for several months,
and I don't know exactly how these
things are handled now. But one
thing I wanted to be sure of is that
you won't treat this little
announcement any differently than
you would any other similar
announcement.
He hands her an envelope. She has difficulty in holding on to it.
KANE
(gently)
Read it, Miss Townsend. And remember
- just the regular treatment!
See you at nine o'clock, Mr. Bernstein!
Kane leaves. Bernstein looks after him, then at the paper. Miss
Townsend finally manages to open the envelope. A piece of flimsy
paper, with a few written lines, is her reward.
MISS TOWNSEND
(reading)
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton
announce the engagement of their
daughter, Emily Monroe Norton, to Mr.
Charles Foster Kane.
BERNSTEIN
(starts to read it)
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton
announce -
MISS TOWNSEND
(fluttering - on top of him)
She's - she's the niece of - of the
President of the United States -
BERNSTEIN
(nodding proudly)
I know. Come on, Miss Townsend -
From the window, maybe we can get a
look.
He takes her by the hand and leads her off.
Angle toward open window. Bernstein and Miss Townsend, backs to
camera, rushing to the window.
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900
High angle downward - what Bernstein and Miss Townsend see from the
window.
Kane is just stepping into an elegant barouch, drawn up at the curb,
in which sits Miss Emily Norton. He kisses her full on the lips
before he sits down. She acts a bit taken aback, because of the
public nature of the scene, but she isn't really annoyed. As the
barouche starts off, she is looking at him adoringly. He, however,
has turned his head and is looking adoringly at the "Enquirer." He
apparently sees Bernstein and Miss Townsed and waves his hand.
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1900
Bernstein and Miss Townsend at window.
BERNSTEIN
A girl like that, believe me, she's
lucky! Presiden't niece, huh! Say,
before he's through, she'll be a
Presiden't wife.
Miss Townsend is now dewey-eyed. She looks at Bernstein, who has
turned away, gazing down at the departing couple.
DISSOLVE:
Front page of the "Enquirer." Large picture of the young couple -
Kane and Emily - occupying four columns - very happy.
DISSOLVE:
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1940
Bernstein and Thompson. As the dissolve comes, Bernstein's voice is
heard.
BERNSTEIN
The way things turned out, I don't
need to tell you - Miss Emily Norton
was no rosebud!
THOMPSON
It didn't end very well, did it?
BERNSTEIN
(shaking his head)
It ended -
(a slight pause)
Then there was Susie - that ended, too.
(shrugs, a pause; then
looking up into Thompson's
eyes)
I guess he didn't make her very happy -
(a pause)
You know, I was thinking - that Rosebud
you're trying to find out about -
THOMPSON
Yes -
BERNSTEIN
Maybe that was something he lost.
Mr. Kane was a man that lost - almost
everything he had -
(a pause)
You ought to talk to Bradford Leland.
He could tell you a lot. I wish I
could tell you where Leland is, but I
don't know myself. He may be out of
town somewhere - he may be dead.
THOMPSON
In case you'd like to know, Mr.
Bernstein, he's at the Huntington
Memorial Hospital on 180th Street.
BERNSTEIN
You don't say! Why I had no idea -
THOMPSON
Nothing particular the matter with
him, they tell me. Just -
(controls himself)
BERNSTEIN
Just old age.
(smiles sadly)
It's the only disease, Mr. Thompson,
you don't look forward to being cured
of.
(pauses)
You ought to see Mr. Leland. There's
a whole lot of things he could tell
you - if he wanted to.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940
Close shot - Thompson. He is tilted back in a chair which seems to
be, and is, leaning against a chimney. Leland's voice is heard for a
few moments before Leland is seen.
LELAND'S VOICE
When you get to my age, young man,
you don't miss anything. Unless
maybe it's a good drink of bourbon.
Even that doesn't make much difference,
if you remember there hasn't been
any good bourbon in this country for
twenty years.
Camera has pulled back, during above speech, revealing that Leland,
wrapped in a blanket, is in a wheel chair, talking to Thompson. They
are on the flat roof of a hospital. Other people in wheel chairs can
be seen in the background, along with a nurse or two. They are all
sunning themselves.
THOMPSON
Mr. Leland, you were -
LELAND
You don't happen to have a cigar,
do you? I've got a young physician
- must remember to ask to see his
license - the odds are a hundred to
one he hasn't got one - who thinks
I'm going to stop smoking... I
changed the subject, didn't I? Dear,
dear! What a disagreeable old man
I've become. You want to know what I
think of Charlie Kane? Well - I suppose
he has some private sort of greatness.
But he kept it to himself.
(grinning)
He never - gave himself away - He
never gave anything away. He just -
left you a tip. He had a generous
mind. I don't suppose anybody ever had
so many opinions. That was because
he had the power to express them, and
Charlie lived on power and the excitement
of using it - But he didn't believe in
anything except Charlie Kane. He never
had a conviction in his life. I guess
he died without one - That must have
been pretty unpleasant. Of course, a
lot of us check out with no special
conviction about death. But we do know
what we're leaving ... we believe in
something.
(looks sharply at Thompson)
You're absolutely sure you haven't got
a cigar?
THOMPSON
Sorry, Mr. Leland.
LELAND
Never mind - Bernstein told you about
the first days at the office, didn't
he? Well, Charlie was a bad newspaper
man even then. He entertained his
readers, but he never told them the
truth.
THOMPSON
Maybe you could remember something
that -
LELAND
I can remember everything. That's
my curse, young man. It's the
greatest curse that's ever been
inflicted on the human race. Memory
- I was his oldest friend.
(slowly)
As far as I was concerned, he
behaved like swine. Maybe I wasnt'
his friend. If I wasn't, he never
had one. Maybe I was what nowadays
you call a stooge -
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895
The party (previously shown in the Bernstein sequence).
We start this sequence toward the end of the former one, but from a
fresh angle, holding on Leland, who is at the end of the table. Kane
is heard off, making a speech.
KANE'S VOICE
Not one of you has been hired
because of his loyalty. It's your
talent I'm interested in. That talent
that's going to make the "Enquirer"
the kind of paper I want - the best
newspaper in the world!
Applause. During above, Bernstein has come to Leland's side.
BERNSTEIN
Isn't it wonderful? Such a party!
LELAND
Yes.
His tone causes Bernstein to look at him.
KANE'S VOICE
However, I think you'll agree we've
heard enough about newspapers and
the newspaper business for one night.
The above speeches are heard under the following dialogue.
BERNSTEIN
(to Leland)
What's the matter?
LELAND
Mr. Bernstein, these men who are now
with the "Enquirer" - who were with
the "Chronicle" until yesterday -
weren't they just as devoted to the
"Chronicle" kind of paper as they
are now to - our kind of paper?
BERNSTEIN
Sure. They're like anybody else.
They got work to do. They do it.
(proudly)
Only they happen to be the best men
in the business.
KANE
(finishing his speech)
There are other subjects in the world -
Kane whistles. The band and the chorus girls enter and hell breaks
loose all around Leland and Bernstein.
LELAND
(after a minute)
Do we stand for the same things
that the "Chronicle" stands for,
Mr. Bernstein?
BERNSTEIN
(indignantly)
Certainly not. So what's that got
to do with it? Mr. Kane, he'll
have them changed to his kind of
newspapermen in a week.
LELAND
Probably. There's always a chance,
of course, that they'll change Mr.
Kane - without his knowing it.
Kane has come up to Leland and Bernstein. He sits down next to them,
lighting a cigarette.
KANE
Well, gentlemen, are we going to
war?
LELAND
Our readers are, anyway, I don't
know about the rest of the country.
KANE
(enthusiastically)
It'll be our first foreign war in
fifty years, Brad. We'll cover it
the way the "Hickville Gazette" covers
the church social! The names of
everybody there; what they wore; what
they ate; who won the prizes; who
gave the prizes -
(gets excited)
I tell you, Brad, I envy you.
(quoting)
By Bradford Leland, the "Enquirer's"
Special Correspondent at the Front.
I'm almost tempted -
LELAND
But there is no Front, Charlie.
There's a very doubtful civil war.
Besides, I don't want the job.
KANE
All right, Brad, all right - you
don't have to be a war correspondent
unless you want to - I'd want to.
(looking up)
Hello, Georgie.
Georgie, a very handsome madam has walked into the picture, stands
behind him. She leans over and speaks quietly in his ear.
GEORGIE
Is everything the way you want it,
dear?
KANE
(looking around)
If everybody's having fun, that's
the way I want it.
GEORGIE
I've got some other little girls
coming over -
LELAND
(interrupting)
Charles, I tell you there is no war!
There's a condition that should be
remedied - but between that and a -
KANE
(seriously)
How would the "Enquirer" look with
no news about this non-existent war
- with Benton, Pulitzer and Heart
devoting twenty columns a day to it?
LELAND
They do it only because you do!
KANE
(grins)
And I do it because they do it, and
they do it - it's a vicious circle,
isn't it?
(rises)
I'm going over to Georgie's, Brad -
you know, Georgie, don't you?
Leland nods.
GEORGIE
(over Kane's next lines)
Glad to meet you, Brad.
Leland shudders.
KANE
I told you about Brad, Georgie.
He needs to relax.
Brad doesn't answer.
KANE
Some ships with wonderful wines
have managed to slip through the
enemy fleet that's blockading New
York harbor -
(grins)
Georgie knows a young lady whom I'm
sure you'd adore - wouldn't he,
Georgie? Why only the other evening
I said to myself, if Brad were only
here to adore this young lady - this -
(snaps his fingers)
What's her name again?
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - NIGHT - 1895
Georgie is introducing a young lady to Branford Leland. On sound
track we hear piano music.
GEORGIE
(right on cue from
preceding scene)
Ethel - this gentlemen has been
very anxious to meet you - This
is Ethel.
ETHEL
Hello, Mr. Leland.
Camera pans to include Kane, seated at piano, with girls gathered
around him.
ONE OF THE GIRLS
Charlie! Play the song about you.
ANOTHER GIRL
Is there a song about Charlie?
Kane has broken into "Oh, Mr. Kane!" and Charlie and the girls start
to sing. Ethel leads the unhappy Leland over to the group. Kane,
seeing Leland and taking his eye, motions to the professor who has
been standing next to him to take over. The professor does so. The
singing continues. Kane rises and crosses to Leland.
KANE
Say, Brad.
(draws him slightly aside)
I've got an idea.
LELAND
Yes?
KANE
I mean I've got a job for you.
LELAND
Good.
KANE
You don't want to be a war
correspondent - how about being a
dramatic critic?
LELAND
(sincerely, but not
gushing; seriously)
I'd like that.
Kane starts quietly to dance in time to the music. Leland smiles at
him.
KANE
You start tomorrow night. Richard
Carl in "The Spring Chicken."
(or supply show)
I'll get us some girls. You get
tickets. A drama critic gets them
free, you know.
(grins)
Rector's at seven?
LELAND
Charlie -
KANE
Yes?
LELAND
(still smiling)
It doesn't make any difference about
me, but one of these days you're
going to find out that all this
charm of yours won't be enough -
KANE
(has stopped dancing)
You're wrong. It does make a
difference to you - Rector's,
Brad?
(starts to dance again)
Come to think of it, I don't blame
you for not wanting to be a war
correspondent. You won't miss
anything. It isn't much of a war.
Besides, they tell me there isn't
a decent restaurant on the whole
island.
DISSOLVE OUT:
DISSOLVE IN:
INT. RECTOR'S - NIGHT - 1898
Leland, Kane, two young ladies at Rector's. Popular music is heard
over the soundtrack. Everybody is laughing very, very hard at
something Kane has said. The girls are hysterical. Kane can hardly
breathe. As Leland's laughter becomes more and more hearty, it only
increases the laughter of the others.
DISSOLVE:
EXT. CUNARD LOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900
As told by Bernstein. Kane is calling down to Leland and Bernstein
(as befor