Walking Shadows: Orson Welles, William Randolph Hearst, and Citizen KaneAuthor(s): John FrankfurtWalking Shadows: Orson Welles, William Randolph Hearst, and Citizen Kane by Walsh, JohnEvangelistSource: Film Quarterly, Vol. 60, No. 2 (Winter 2006), pp. 81-82Published by: University of California PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/fq.2006.60.2.79.5 .

Accessed: 01/06/2014 05:00

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

.

University of California Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to FilmQuarterly.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 192.167.204.6 on Sun, 1 Jun 2014 05:00:16 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Comprising four main chapters, the book considers thedevelopment of the concept of film noir, the prehistory ofthe genre, its main cycle and, finally, neo-noir. An afterwordbrings the chronicle right up to date with a discussion of noirin the digital age: This is Not a Love Song (2002) and Sin City(2005).

As an introductory text, the book is most successful in itsfirst two chapters. Bould edits an extensive range of criticalperspectives into a concise account of the origins of film noiras both a critical construct and a filmmaking practice. Aswell as broaching what are generally regarded as the key is-sues in noir studies, he introduces some marginalized topics.In discussing noir’s antecedents he usefully considers Ger-man cinema as having contributed more than just an ex-pressionistic visual style. Similarly, expanding his discussionof 1930s American crime films beyond the much vauntedgangster cycle is of immense value. Detailed accounts ofcarefully selected films also prove illuminating. A particularstrength is Bould’s preference for comparing pairs of movies.Measuring The Killers (1946) against its 1964 remake helpsto demonstrate the problems inherent in using narrative asthe sole criterion of generic membership, while Americannoir’s debts to and differences from 1930s French poetic re-alism are clearly expressed in the account of differing con-cepts of agency in La bête humaine (1938) and DoubleIndemnity (1944).

In the third chapter, Bould breaks away from the intro-ductory approach in order to interrogate more complex for-mulations of determinism. His analysis of the “linguisticdetermination of the masculine subject” provides particularlystimulating reading. At the same time, the decision to focuson this issue at the expense of more traditional approachesprevents the chapter from functioning well as a foundation-level text. References to such conventionally central concernsas noir’s literary heritage and, in particular, its distinctive vi-sual style are sparse. Moreover, an uneven writing style makesparts of this chapter more difficult to follow than other sec-tions. As an introduction to pre- and post-noir the bookworks well however, eschewing facile solutions to the oftencomplex issues outlined. Any shortcomings as a study guidenotwithstanding, the book certainly demonstrates that, de-spite the mass of previous literature on film noir, there is stillplenty of scope for an incisive author to enrich our apprecia-tion of this fascinating filmmaking strand.

DEBORAH ALLISON

Markovitz, Jonathan. Legacies of Lynching: Racial Violenceand Memory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,2004. $19.95 paper. 227 pages. Jonathan Markovitz’s study oflynching and collective memory is part of a new wave ofscholarship that seeks to understand the impact of lynchingnarratives and images on American racial politics. Accordingto Markovitz, lynching has operated as a central metaphor orlens through which Americans have envisioned race. Pro-lynching narratives in the past conceptualized African Amer-ican men as criminal and hypersexed, and whites, particularlywhite women, as the civilized victims to black savagery.

Markovitz describes the battles that have been waged to re-configure that script so that lynching came to signify, aboveall, white racist terror and domination. He examines severalsites where these battles have been waged, including the workof early twentieth-century anti-lynching activists, the Bern-hard Goetz case, and the Clarence Thomas hearings.

If lynching has acted as lens for seeing race in America,then certainly film is an essential medium to consider. Forthis reason, Markovitz devotes one chapter to lynching repre-sentations in American film, focusing primarily on recentfilms, including Do the Right Thing (1989), Just Cause (1995),and Rosewood (1997). Unfortunately, while the chapters onrecent news stories that replay and reconfigure the lynchingscript offer fresh insight into contemporary racial politics, thechapter on film is the book’s weakest, as it presents readableand interesting, yet ultimately thin analyses of select films.Markovitz’s discussion of Oscar Micheaux’s work, whichrelies mostly on the scholarship of others, provides little newinsight, and his subsequent leap to Do the Right Thing is his-torically confounding. His most compelling reading is of ATime to Kill (1996), which he critiques for confusing thelynching metaphor to the point that it is emptied of anymeaning. His analyses tend to focus on plot and character,with little attention played to other elements of cinematiclanguage. In addition, if these films have bore upon popularracial conceptions, it would have enhanced his study ifMarkovitz had researched the politics surrounding thesefilms’ production or reception more than he does.

Legacies of Lynching is a revised dissertation in sociologyand it still bears the mark of its origins. Yet, the idea of lynch-ing as metaphor is a provocative one that opens up many pos-sibilities for future studies of its cinematic representations.

AMY LOUISE WOOD

Walsh, John Evangelist. Walking Shadows: Orson Welles,William Randolph Hearst, and Citizen Kane. Madison: Popu-lar Press/University of Wisconsin Press, 2004. $35.00 cloth.310 pages. In his opening to Walking Shadows, John Evange-list Walsh describes how he intends to discuss the centralpremise of his book—that is, the depths to which publisherWilliam Randolph Hearst personally went about sabotagingCitizen Kane (1941) and the career of director Orson Welles.Walsh explains that while he supports his argument with ex-tensive primary source materials, he will use “straight narra-tive in the place of standard historical exposition” and that hewill present his evidence “without stopping in the main textto argue the underlying proofs,” preferring “the immediacy ofnarrative to the more distant expository method of the tradi-tional historian.” And so, Walsh is quite clear in making hisreader aware of the kind of book he or she has in hand: a nar-rative account of one of Hollywood’s most legendary worksthat is intended more for a few hours of personal pleasurethan for extended scholarly research.

Walsh’s generalization that historical texts are less com-pelling is unfortunate. However, there is nothing wrong withhis desire to bring to life the events leading up to, during,

81

This content downloaded from 192.167.204.6 on Sun, 1 Jun 2014 05:00:16 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

and following the production and release of Citizen Kane.Like Benjamin Ross’s RKO 281: The Battle Over Citizen Kane(1999), the docudrama that tells the story of the making ofCitizen Kane, Walsh’s book is engaging and seems reliableenough. Walsh’s strongest argument, that Hearst was partic-ularly dastardly in his campaign against Kane and even wentso far as to “fix” the 1942 Academy Awards, reads very dra-matically. Yet what can one really do with a work that seemsmore concerned with being “a good read” than anythingelse? Due to Walsh’s approach, it is difficult to recommendthis book as a reliable resource or guide for someone whowants to research or study Welles, Hearst, or Kane specifi-cally or, more generally, Hollywood in the late 1930s andearly 1940s.

In fairness, the book has supplemental notes and an ex-tended bibliography. At the same time, Walsh chooses to as-sociate his supplemental notes to page numbers in his text asopposed to specific passages or sections. It would be difficultfor a scholar to take advantage of the evidence presented inWalking Shadows should he or she wish to delve deeper onissues covered in the book. Similarly, it doesn’t appear thatWalsh’s supplemental notes or bibliography contain any real“finds” such as previously unpublished interviews or corre-spondence. The works he derives his story from are a combi-nation of secondary studies, such as biographies on Kane andHearst, and primary source materials, including trade writ-ings from the period around the production of Kane.

One could fill several shelves with books on OrsonWelles, William Randolph Hearst, and Citizen Kane, so anynew work is inevitably compared to and situated amongthem. Alongside the many works already out there, Walsh’sbook is an unconventional and enjoyable read while at thesame time, as advertised, less concerned with being a schol-arly work.

JOHN FRANKFURT

82

IN THE NEXT ISSUE

Special feature on Brokeback Mountain, withcontributions from:

Chris BerryJoshua Clover & Christopher NealonJim KitsesD.A. MillerB. Ruby RichRobin Wood

This content downloaded from 192.167.204.6 on Sun, 1 Jun 2014 05:00:16 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions