Too much of everything

The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

This is a small, humorous movie in some ways, but it has a huge heart. What a nice experience.

I wanted to hate this movie because it gave me a bitter aftertaste that I couldn't put my finger on. I admit, the praise that others have heaped upon this film is true: acting is superb, the entire production is authentic, and Christian McKay's rendition of Orson is very convincing, particularly that voice. So why did it leave me with a feeling like I had just ingested a triple salami sandwich with extra onions and pimentos?The key is staring us all in the face; it's in the title. "Me & Orson Welles" (notice the audacity of putting "Me" before "Orson Welles") is a scathing portrayal of the unapologetic one-upmanship and venomous diva mentality which apparently dominates the entertainment industry and always has. Orson Welles is shown to be arrogance personified, and understandably so, but far more unsettling is the way every member of the stage community, from the leading lady all the way down to the lowly set designer, is equally self-centered and demanding "me me me". What's very clever about this movie is that it's very subtle. This is not a thick satire like "Catch-22" or a society-deprecating fable like "Edward Scissorhands" which immediately shows us the fault in the human condition. No, this is so subtle that most people may not even catch the sarcasm at work.Aside from good looks, not a single character is likable. Claire Danes with her breezy smile and undeniably cute face plays a theater gold-digger so adept with her ladder climbing you'd think she was a firefighter. Always on her way to rendezvous with the latest producer/celebrity du jour, you start to wonder if she has a soul behind those dark eyes. Hats off to Claire for being able to play such a destestable character with grace, elegance and charm that makes us overlook her selfish agenda and instead become captivated by her. Other characters are more obvious with their self-serving natures, demanding more lines, special lighting, and everything short of a bowl of m&m's with all the brown ones removed. (Any 80s hair band fans out there? That's a reference to Van Halen's bizarre demand/prank at every concert.)Ironically, and brilliantly, the one character whom I found to be thoroughly likable despite his selfishness was Orson Welles himself. This is simply because he openly and unapologetically makes himself the despotic king (much like Julius Caesar, the play they are performing), while all the other characters are toadies and yes-men who hypocritically assume their subservient roles in the pecking order. But Orson is shown to be probably how he was in real life: a master manipulator and Machiavellian stage tyrant whom you gotta love because he lets everyone know exactly what they're in for, should they choose to join his bizarre circus known as the Mercury Theater.Now enter Zac Ephron's wide-eyed, idealistic and naïve character "Junior" who is thrown into this bizarre food chain, full of ridiculous notions like giving credit where credit is due, respect for others, and of course the most doomed concept to enter a theater since Abraham Lincoln, "love". Zac Ephron's monologue near the end when he recites a verse in class is chilling, and the sinister stare he gives as he delivers the last line is indicative that he has learned a thing or two about theater. Pay attention to that monologue because it sums up everything I'm saying here.I think if you're intrigued by dark (yet subtle) themes like this, then you'll have a great time. I have to strongly disagree with a few other reviewers' descriptions using words like "charming", "nostalgic" and "wonderful". That's like saying Beethoven's 5th symphony was a real toe tapper in "Clockwork Orange". Knowing director Richard Linklater's body of work including muckraking films like "Fast Food Nation" and even the insidiously disturbing teen flick "Dazed and Confused", I have no doubt that "Me & Orson Welles" was a deliberate anti-romance. And I don't mean romance between two people; I mean the romance of a young lad and his first "kiss" with the theater. Definitely check out this flick if you're up for a challenge and not afraid to get a little dirty.

It's 1937. On a trip to NYC, high school student Richard Samuels (Zac Efron) befriends artistic Gretta Adler (Zoe Kazan). Then he accidentally run into Orson Welles (Christian McKay) at the Mercury Theatre. Orson offers him the role of Lucius in his Julius Caesar. Orson is a dictator and Sonja Jones (Claire Danes) takes him under her wings.Zac Efron starts off completely self assured. I think it would better if he starts off unsure with Gretta and Sonja. He should be more like a green youngster that the movie wants him to start off as. He is too much of a big movie star right from the start. Other than that, these are great performances from everybody especially Christian McKay. Director Richard Linklater allows the actors to flourish in this.

Christian McKay really captures the essence of Orson Welles in this lovingly made film. You really can't call it a biopic, since it covers only a brief period of the man's life, but to see and hear this man play Welles is to see him in real life. Zac Efron does his usual good job playing the starry-eyed youth who is about to get an unpleasant dose of reality. The period stuff is first-rate and really gives you a feel that this is 1937 when you watch it. There is a rich selection of vintage 1930s music, all seemingly correct for the period. The supporting cast are all first-rate as well, and the film's color is bathed in a rich, warm glow that adds to the feel of the piece. This is a worthwhile film for students of theater as well as of cinema.

Richard Linklater's film of Robert Kaplow's novel merits a watch, if only for Christian McKay's splendid evocation of the young Orson Welles. McKay has the vocal chops, the look (in profile it's uncanny) and, most importantly, the attitude. Without apparent effort, he catches the mammoth self-confidence that made Welles one of the most intimidating screen presences in cinema. I have no idea how much time and effort this actor (in his first feature film) spent in mastering the smirk Welles gives when neophyte actor Richard Samuels (Zac Efron) talks of his "lover"; in any case the work pays off. It's like a cameo by Harry Lime.This movie uses the Mercury Theatre's celebrated production of Julius Caesar as backdrop to its rather slight story. The screenplay tells us that Welles, whatever genius he possessed, may not have been a great guy-- and, well... are we wrong to ask how much that matters? Efron, as the young hopeful who falls into Welles's considerable gravitational pull, has a certain charm and potential talent, but looks and acts somehow utterly of his own time-- we never believe him as a 1930s construct. (Possibly he hasn't watched enough old movies.) He falls in love with Claire Danes, who plays an ambitious... something, I missed exactly what her job was. Script girl? Dramaturge? Anyway, she works on the play. Danes does a decent job as whatever she is, but she and Efron generate zero chemistry. "Why am I so interested in you?" she asks at one point. I had no guesses.If I had to speculate, I'd say that the romantic plot did not grab the director much. He does good work casting the real-life characters. Eddie Marsan makes a credible John Houseman; Ben Chaplin registers strongly as a nerve-racked George Coulouris; and James Tupper looks, sounds, and feels right as the affable young ladies' man Joe Cotten. The backstage squabbles, trivial though they may be, draw more interest than the emotional business upfront. And Linklater truly comes awake as a director in capturing performance: whether he's staging a quick radio sequence in which Welles steals the show or very finely recreating the Mercury's legendary Caesar, you get the feeling Linklater would be happiest just sitting back and watching the show. And here the movie is at its best-- far more than Tim Robbins' earnest, turgid Cradle Will Rock, this movie, absent of politics, captures the excitement of truly revolutionary theater at a time when such a thing was still possible.In fact, that lack of earnestness may be the key here. Caesar was a great production not because it deconstructed Hitler, but because Welles gave it a sense of importance strong enough to deconstruct anything. Welles was a great artist, and perhaps more crucially he was a great bulls--t artist. Let's put it more simply: that WAS his art. This is a film about learning to bulls--t, learning when not to say what you mean, learning when not to be honest-- and that's bracing. It reminds us that trickery, deception and narcissism can be magic, and that egotism with a will to dazzle us can be more dazzling than anything we describe as "talent" and "sincerity". It's why the movie stalls when McKay is not on screen-- he convinces us he IS Orson Welles, that he is the most important man in the world-- and in defiance of logic and perspective, we buy it. And at the end of the day, that transparent and fantastic lie-- that's art.