Take 11: Magnificent Ambersons

Jessie McAskill
5 min readJan 3, 2022
In July, 2015, the BBC released a list of the 100 Greatest American Films, curated by polling critics all over the world. I’m watching them and writing about them as a form of self taught film school. This week, Take 11: Magnificent Ambersons, there will be spoilers.

Just to get this out of the way The Magnificent Ambersons was perhaps the film I least enjoyed viewing so far. Released in 1942, just a year after Orson Welles’ perennial king of the hill masterpiece Citizen Kane, found watching the movie to be a slog, especially compared to the intrigue surrounding the off screen drama that tails the legacy of the film. Legend has it that the original cut of the movie was so widely panned, RKO Productions cut out about 50 minutes after its initial release. Welles, who was filming in South America at the time, was reportedly livid at the studio’s disregard for his artistic authority. The cut footage was destroyed, and thus 80 years later we’re left with a predicament of what if: is it possible the original cut of of the film would have exceeded the quality of the version we’re left with? Or, would an extra 50 minutes of an already tedious journey (in my opinion) only bogged it down further?

Regardless, the critics respected the final version of the film enough to rank it just outside of the top ten, and I respect the critics enough to give them the benefit of the doubt. I saw this movie for the first time at the Brattle theater, and it included an introduction from a local film professor who explained that the film was a landmark development for 1940s cinema, unlike anything else that had been released up to that point, and while the plot itself was dull from my perspective, it’s impossible to deny that Welles directs with a deft and masterful hand. Many of the stylistic elements that are used so effectively in Citizen Kane are present in The Magnificent Ambersons as well — from the cinematography, to the judicious use of light and shadow, to the set dressings. In a lot of ways, I felt like the lead character in The Magnificent Ambersons, George Amberson Minafer, was a mirror image of Charles Foster Kane.

Kane is a self made magnate who on his deathbed longs for the simplicity of his childhood. Georgie on the other hand, was born into wealth, and had a streak of brattiness that made his neighbors long for a day he would be slapped with the full blow of comeuppance. While Kane was affable in his youth and cantankerous in his elderly years, Georgie is a jerk from the very beginning who only comes face to face with his flaws as the riches around him begin to slip away. Kane built a media empire with limited resources, committed to telling the (sometimes exaggerated) truth and staying on the brink of new developments in the industry. Georgie considers selecting an occupation a nuisance, unnecessary to someone of his standing and means.

Over the course of the film, we see examples of Georgie’s lack of initiative and resistance to change, and those characteristics seem intrinsically tied to his downfall. He is steadfast in his belief that the “horseless carriage” is a useless invention, sticking to that assertion even when it’s clear that the momentum of history is heading the other way. When he is later killed by a car it is somewhat contrived poetic justice, proof of what damage an obstinate underestimation of people and their abilities can amount to.

I was constantly reminded of Mad Men’s Pete Campbell while watching Georgie. For those who haven’t had the pleasure, Pete Campbell is another dweeb who is an heir to a family fortune. One major and important difference between the two characters though, is that Campbell has a nasty dose of ambition that pushes him to backstab and cheat in order to climb the ranks within the office. When viewed side by side against Georgie’s apathy, it’s difficult to say which is more irritating, but it’s also obvious that both characteristics are symptoms of entitlement, which are in turn contrasted against a likeable, successful, self made, older man — Don Draper and Eugene Morgan respectively. It also seems significant to note that both are heirs to their mothers’ wealth, and both seem irked at times that their family name does not align to the source of their affluence. This is especially important to the characterization of Georgie, as the film suggests that his mother being at the helm of the house and fortune relegated his father as ineffectual, allowing her maternal influence to infect and spoil their son.

It may be fair to ask if Georgie’s behavior was part of his nature, or if his parents should be saddled with most of the blame. The star crossed love story between Eugene and Isabel Amberson is persistent throughout the film, but is far from a highlight. It did create an interesting Brady Bunch dynamic though, and the underlying Freudian tendencies of the lead characters are not far from a Greek tragedy. George hates Eugene, at first seemingly because he is the ingenious creator of his own fortune and George has a knee jerk rejection of his nouveau riche success. Later though, George’s ire only intensifies when he realizes that his mother and Eugene are in love. George’s petulance hits full force as he attempts to keep them apart, like a possessive child throwing a tantrum. The threat of an incoming stepparent and merging families is both a tale as old as time, and a rich bed of fodder in the 1990’s during the peak of the divorce bubble.

The relationship between George and Eugene is one that is understandably challenging, but what’s difficult is that George is so unlikable it’s hard to feel any sympathy for his plight. Georgie was representative of the 1940’s ultra rich, and when he is forced to reap what he sowed (leading him to ultimately repent for his wrongdoing) it’s a bittersweet victory for the beleaguered masses. Just like his predecessor, Charles Kane, on his deathbed Georgie confronts his mistake of living life ignorant to the blessings he was granted. And just like Kane, at that point, it was too little too late.

--

--