The typical French quality: zero with some archive footage
This is the usual French fare in documentary: wordy, messy, pointless. A work of exploitation always lied on. I have read a few interviews and it is the same romanticism: for the love of Welles. The anniversary of a hundred years since Orson Welles was born has nothing to do. The French nationalism has nothing to do with screening this low quality product under the Cannes brand either.
This is not a true documentary. In the spirit of the continental philosophy, this is a fairy tale based on true facts. And consistency is not important. This way at the 6th minute Charles Kane is an autobiography of Welles and at the 13th minute it is the exact biography of William Randolph Hearst. The maker of this movie, Elisabeth Kapnist, alludes in an interview about her search and documentation, yet most books are far more clear and documented. I don't know. Maybe those books weren't translated in French.
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