Mank

One could be forgiven for going into a film such as Mank and assuming that the story you are about to see is entirely factual. That, of course, is utter nonsense. While there is a kernel of truth in the proceedings, it is just as equally fictional, allowing for director David Fincher to craft parallels between writer Herman J. Mankiewicz’s (Gary Oldman) past and the writing of his best-known script, Citizen Kane. It also allows Fincher to avoid some of the more dull aspects of this story, such as the legal hoops that had to be gone through for Mankiewicz “Mank” to get his name on that script after signing a contract that was designed to keep his name off it. 

Fincher clearly has an affinity with the subject matter and for classic films of the 30s and 40s, and he has tried to make an homage to that era while setting his film in it, too. What is confusing, then, is how muddled the feel of it is. The movie is shot in black and white and includes many of the telltale signs of a film of the era, such as some intentional rough edits and the inclusion of cigarette burns in the film, an indicator of an upcoming reel change back in the old days. 

But the black and white image is pristine, betraying its more modern digital production, and is shot in widescreen instead of the Academy ratio that would have been indicative of the times. While this may have been done in an attempt to avoid alienating modern audiences who are not used to old films, it ignores that those drawn to watching Mank would in general already be interested in the subject and older films anyway. These stylistic choices clash and leave the film feeling a bit uncertain as to what it is trying to convey. 

What we are seeing is a story told in two different timelines. In 1940, Orson Welles (Tom Burke) has been given a sweetheart deal to make a film for RKO. This deal includes complete creative control without any studio interference. He strikes a deal with Mank, who has a broken leg from a car crash and is recovering in Victorville, California. Mank will write a script, dictated to his secretary from his recovery bed, but will not have screen credit for it. Not long into the process, the secretary, Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), notices some obvious similarities between the main character in the script and William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance), a newspaper publisher and politician. 

Throughout the writing process, the movie flashes back to various events of the previous decade, showing us Mank’s relationship with Hearst; MGM studio head Louis B. Meyer (Arliss Howard); producer Irving Thalberg (Ferdinand Kingsley); and actress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried), Hearst’s mistress and the inspiration for another character in the script. These flashbacks flesh out Mank’s character but also serve as parallels, some less perfectly established than others, to events that will eventually make it into the Citizen Kane script. Eventually, some alcohol is smuggled in for Mank, and he finishes the script by the deadline, but he is so proud of the work here that he wants his name on it, despite a contract that states otherwise. 

There is a scene late in the story where Mank invites Wells back to the retreat with the intent of getting his name on the screenwriting credit. Naturally, it gets volatile, and Wells storms off in a rage, threatening legal action. We never see that legal action, just a cut to the Academy Awards and Mank being awarded the Oscar for his script, the only one that Citizen Kane won. We also get a soundbite of Wells showing his disdain for Hollywood and how his film was received. We get none of how this all went down in the end. But this film isn’t trying to tell that story. It’s more focused on the parallels of life and script. 

Despite the setting of 30s Hollywood, there is little to ground this film in that time period from the actors. They are all in fine form but do not come across as period-specific. Charles Dance is a fine example of this as he could be plucked out of this and dropped directly into a modern film without any changes, and it would work just fine. The same could be said for Arliss Howard and Gary Oldman, who are both solid, nearly brilliant in the case of Oldman, but not tied to the times.

The sole exception is Amanda Seyfried, who, despite her numerous examples of her pure talent on screen, is still seen as a lightweight most of the time, in no small part due to her appearances in such disposable roles as Mean Girls, Mamma Mia!, and Chloe. Yet she proves us wrong year after year when she takes on meatier roles such as Lovelace and, more recently, The Housemaid. Amanda feels of the era, and we can envision her being in silent films and latching on to a man like Hearst for the financial stability and, later, for love. 

I mentioned Gary Oldman above for not really conveying the time period well. That is not to say that he is doing a bad job acting, far from it. Mank is an alcoholic and a bit of a rascal, and Oldman nails that perfectly. This is not a simple character but one with many fascinating layers to it, including his own personal moral code that lands him in some hot water during the elections of 1934. The studios were backing Upton Sinclair over Frank Merriam by producing a smear campaign utilizing paid actors to turn voters towards their preferred candidate. Mank tries to stop this from happening by appealing to Marion Davies, but she has already left the studios and will not use her influence over Hearst to change things. Mank also feels he is somewhat to blame as his goading of Irving Thalberg gave the man the idea to use the studio’s resources for this in the first place. 

Later, Mank shows up at Hearst’s mansion, crashing a gathering, and rambles drunkenly about a proposed film updating of Don Quixote and clearly making comparisons to Hearst, himself.  These observations are poignant and sharp, but they are brought to a halt with the revelation that half of Mank’s salary comes from Hearst, who has been supplementing MGM to keep him on the payroll. Hearst then uses his own allegory of the organ grinder’s monkey to make his own point about Mank, an observation that is just as biting.

By the time we get to the end of the film, one key question remains unanswered: why? This is an actor’s film, and it gives our performers ample material to work with, but what does it all amount to? There is plenty of material out there on Citizen Kane, its writing, and inspirations. This film doesn’t offer any real insights that aren’t already out there in greater detail. Despite the richness of material, this film doesn’t utilize it well enough to make it worth superseding what is already available. And looking at it as just a film, it doesn’t entertain enough to get over its weaknesses, making for an uneven experience. Fans of Hollywood of the 30s and of Citizen Kane in particular may enjoy aspects of this film, but the overall experience doesn’t quite live up to expectations. As a look at Mank, himself, there is riches to explore but they are often muddled with too much emphasis on creating parallels that just didn’t exist. 

Academy Award Nominations:

Best Picture: Ceán Chaffin, Eric Roth, and Douglas Urbanski

Best Director: David Fincher

Best Actor: Gary Oldman

Best Supporting Actress: Amanda Seyfried

Best Cinematography: Erik Messerschmidt (won)

Best Costume Design: Trish Summerville

Best Makeup and Hairstyling: Gigi Williams, Kimberley Spiteri, and Colleen LaBaff

Best Original Score: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Best Production Design: Donald Graham Burt and Jan Pascale (won)

Best Sound: Ren Klyce, Jeremy Molod, David Parker, Nathan Nance, and Drew Kunin

____________________________________________________

Release Date: November 13, 2020

Running Time: 131 Minutes

Rated R

Starring: Gary Oldman, Amanda Seyfried, Lily Collins, Arliss Howard, Tom Pelphrey, Charles Dance, and Tom Burke

Directed by: David Fincher