REVIEW: 'Mank' is an impeccably crafted insider tale, for superfans only
Gary Oldman stars as Herman J. Mankiewicz in Mank, directed by David Fincher.
The question of authorship in the movie business is maybe the one film nerd battle that will outlive every passing trend. It existed long before the perpetually looming death of movie theatres, and will persist long after the current glut of superhero stories. It’s a complicated discussion, studded with rabbit holes like how we’re meant to interpret art, and the bizarre rules that evolved in Hollywood in the first half of the 20th century.
David Fincher, who until now hasn’t released a feature film since 2014’s Gone Girl, decided to strike a match under the debate with his latest release, Mank, in a partnership with Netflix. To be sure, there are other, far more detailed examinations of authorship out there, like the recent video from The Royal Ocean Film Society. But because Mank depicts one of the most infamous squabbles over writing credit in movie history, I’ll have to dip my toe in.
While Mank is transparently about the act of writing of Citizen Kane - the Orson Welles masterpiece that sat at the top of Greatest of All Time lists for decades - onscreen credit is not its main interest. Mank is instead more focused on the power of writing anything - whether it’s a screenplay, a telegram, or a drunken speech at a costume party.
Fincher’s lens may be a particular bracket of time in Hollywood history, but he’s not re-litigating the fight over Welles’ contributions to the film. We’re meant to see how the titular screenwriter used words to both carve out respect and to self-sabotage, and how his actions rippled beyond the silliness of the silver screen, and into the world at large. As online pundits often forget, filmmakers are people too, and their concerns don’t begin and end with the entertainment they produce during their day jobs.
Amanda Seyfried as Marion Davies.
Gary Oldman plays Herman J. Mankiewicz, known to all but the most nerdy classic film fans as the “other guy” who shared the one Oscar that Citizen Kane won. As the movie begins, Mank is laid up in Victorville, California, recuperating after a car crash and beginning work on the first draft of Citizen Kane. He has 60 days to deliver the screenplay to Welles (Tom Burke), and everyone around Mank lets him know that this might be his last career lifeline. After years of alcoholism, gambling, and a penchant for saying exactly what he thinks about studio bigwigs, Mank has almost run out of friends, and it’s not clear whether Kane will be good enough to rescue his reputation.
Through flashbacks - impishly introduced by script excerpts identifying them as such - we rewind to Mank’s encounters with newspaper tycoon and political operative William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance). Hearst and his wife Marion (Amanda Seyfried) are the inspiration for Kane and his wife, and the source of the frustration that fuels Mank’s message years later.
He sees how much power Hearst wields, and yet how unfulfilled everyone in Hearst’s circle seems to be. Hearst and his friends running the studios use their resources and technical skills to sway the 1934 gubernatorial election in California, ensuring a conservative Republican wins and shutting out the progressive candidate that Mank supports. So Mank turns to the only weapon he has left, his words, and trusts Welles, the 24-year-old “boy wonder”, and the powers that be at RKO Radio Pictures not to cave to industry pressure and kill the movie before it enters production.
Charles Dance as William Randolph Hearst.
Mank comes to us in a year when political divisions are wider than ever, and when entertainment’s relationship to politics is under closer scrutiny than ever. But Fincher’s movie is still a niche release for Netflix. As good as the cast and the script are - setting aside how you feel about Oldman, 62, playing a 43-year-old - the setting and Fincher’s self-indulgent flourishes still make me hesitate before recommending it to everyone. If you’re a ride-or-die Fincher fan, or a committed listener of a film history podcast like You Must Remember This, climb aboard. But the personalities and intricacies of 1930s and 1940s film industry might remain opaque to people looking for another tightly-wound thriller from the maker of Zodiac and The Social Network.
Did Herman J. Mankiewicz deserve sole credit for Kane? Was Orson Welles merely a skillful sculptor, freeing a work of art from the brick of paper that Mank turned in? Don’t look to Mank for answers. But if you’re curious about how one artist (Fincher) explores another artist’s place in the maddening machine of commerce known as Hollywood, put on your best black cape and get to streaming.
Mank gets three and a half stars out of four.
Stray thoughts
Video essayists are going to be poring over Fincher’s stylistic choices, like unnecessary cue marks and lighting changes that end scenes, for years.
My favourite scene might be the walk-and-talk with Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard).
The cameo casting for Upton Sinclair (which I won’t spoil) was delightful and unexpected.