历劫佳人

公民凯恩的好，我不懂；

历劫佳人的好，我懂。

开头的长镜头，完美展示了悬念的意义，以炸弹开始，以爆炸结束，从凶手的视角展示一切，观众随着凶手将炸弹放到汽车后备箱，受害者上车，大全景展示环境，再切入汽车的画面，汽车出画，主角入画，汽车再入画，观众已经参与到电影中，有定时炸弹，不知道什么时候就爆炸了。

看完这个镜头，我想知道放炸弹的是谁，为什么要这么做，是的，看电影有了目标，奥逊威尔斯在1958年拍摄的电影现在国内上映的大部分电影都比不了，时间有时候会改变一些东西，有时候不会，如何用镜头讲好一个故事，不容易，这部电影的命运是坎坷的，奥逊威尔斯的剪辑版被片场否决，被制片厂乱剪一通后，奥逊威尔斯写下五十多页的修改备忘录“在结束这份备忘录时，我极诚挚的恳请你们赞同以我的剪辑模式剪辑影片，我在其中投入了多日的艰辛劳作。” 现在的版本根据奥逊威尔斯书面意见进行了调整，电影画面有些跳帧，如果一切按照奥逊威尔斯的做，这会是更好的电影。

看这样的电影是一种享受，美国和墨西哥的边境，罪恶丛生到川普想建一道墙阻住非法越境者。这部61年前拍摄的电影与现下的主题有关，只不过奥逊威尔斯的构思出人意料，是墨西哥警察扮演正义一方，美国贪污警察和墨西哥裔扮演邪恶一方。出人意料的故事，悬念丛生；出人意料的镜头，调度从容；出人意料的表演，奥逊威尔斯本人出演邪恶警长。

警长指出的凶手不被墨西哥警察相信，墨西哥警察认为警长栽赃，但最后的结果显示警长指出的凶手确实是凶手，警长的直觉是对的，但是警长的手段是非法的。最后的片尾警长的部下喜欢警长，警长朝他开枪，他也朝警长开枪，两人相继毙命，这就是所谓的相爱相杀，奥逊威尔斯这个故事很超前，估计当时的人一时还接受不了吧。玛琳黛德丽，珍妮特利，还有查尔登·海斯顿，但表现最好的还是奥逊威尔斯。

第一次看奥逊·威尔斯的电影，深为开场的长镜头折服。密处躲藏的凶手、两国边界小镇的喧嚣、藏在车后面的炸药、看起来就像主角偏偏又总不经意和炸药离的过分接近......一个跟踪式长镜头几乎把影迷的胃口掉到天上和太阳肩并肩。警匪、谋杀、绑架、毒品、边界、折磨美人，可以说作为一部黑色电影它该有的惊悚猎奇元素都有了，剩下的则交给道德灰色地带的正邪纠缠了。而结尾的追踪真相与之形成完美呼应，不经意间存在的危机最可怕。电影开头是一段义正言辞的说明，表示本片曾遭片商私自剪辑，后威尔斯写下58页长信，最终尽量按照导演意愿剪辑成了现在这个版本。

影片最引人注目的不是破案的曲折坚信，而是在破案过程中对执法手段和公正判断的怀疑。一个凭借直觉判案的警察为了验证猜想不惜假造证据陷害被告人，尽管在影片的结束这件案子证实了这个警察的直觉没错，而他在办案过程中依赖直觉、与毒贩勾结、杀人嫁祸铲除异己、捏造证物、严刑逼供被告人等等行为全部超出了执法人应有的职业素养和道德操守，与其说是为了贯彻正义，不如说是为了满足自己作为正义化身的幻想。奥逊饰演的美国警察即便是魔鬼的化身却干了天使的工作，叱咤警界三十年到头来却被最好的同伴枪毙在臭河沟里，给不光彩的人生留下一个尽是谜思的转身。

在构图上，本片利用人物远近造成视觉上身材的大小比对显示力量对比，往往占据画面更多更靠前的掌握更多的主动权和操控能力：美国警察出场时都站在最醒目显眼的位置，身形总要比旁人更为高大一些，特别是处于少数几个人同框的画面里更是如此，唯有贯彻原则的墨西哥警察可以与之分庭抗礼。然而当美国警察第一次被怀疑时怒而出走，在大厅被喊住，此时美国警察处于画面的最远端，又远又小看不清真面目，而日后看清真相与之反目的同僚站在画面的正中间左右为难，而选择调查他的警察站在离观众最近的位置，显得极为高大。三个人连成一条完美的对角线，既显出美国警察自钻牛角尖的一意孤行，也侧面烘托了导演对这个狂妄警察的评价，未来已在这个镜头里得到预言。

有趣的是，在片中屡遭不幸的女主角，即墨西哥缉毒警察的妻子，被当地毒枭用计骗到家中试图恐吓，两个人在镜头前好似上演了一出抢镜大戏：毒枭趁女主还云里雾里之时摆姿态吓唬她，整个人占了多半个镜头，把女主角挤得只能露出半个头；等女主角反应过来巧舌如簧临危不惧反而呛了毒枭一波，毒枭被骂的目瞪口呆反而自己在镜头下只露出半个头，这正是以抢镜之细节突出正邪之较劲。

更为令人揪心的是观众可以在同一框中看到跟踪者与被跟踪者、偷窥者和被偷窥者，甚至是嫌疑满满的毒枭和窝里反的警察，他们互相之间只有前者知道后者的存在，于是观众可以在一方不知情的情况下眼睁睁看着罪恶的发生，这种似乎亲临其境的感觉不免使人心惊。

众多的仰视镜头将角色烘托的高大之余，也将各个角色的心事放大到观众面前：美国警察的自大阴鸷、女主角面临危难的恐惧等等。最经典的莫过于美国警察即将被同僚诱出时的特写：身后被一只巨大的野牛头占据整个背景，狂野之余却也见垂死之态。

黑白电影里的光影对照总是最为明显，美国警察私自杀死毒枭时屋子里的光一明一暗，正邪在这里失去了明显的边界，只留下暧昧不清的杀欲和恐惧。女主角被毒枭手下盯住时也是在黑暗中用一只手电筒晃住她，唯一的光亮反而成了危险的源头。女主角在汽车旅馆被抓住时，脸从光明逐渐到被一个人的阴影笼罩，放慢的恐怖加深了危机的程度。

究竟是坚持正义放过怀疑对象、还是以正义之名陷害真凶进网，这是个死题。毕竟人不是神，会犯下无数的过错；而执法者也不没有审判的权力，不应该凭借一己私欲改变许多人的命运走向。两个国家的两种性格截然不同的警察碰撞在这个边界小镇，其中的火花燃烧起的更多于道德。而关于在汽车旅馆没有给女主角注射真正的毒品这个情节，我只能说还是年代太早口味太轻了。

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想到导演奥逊·威尔斯，影迷中脑海里第一时间复现的可能是他的《公民凯恩》。然而，除了《公民凯恩》，奥逊·威尔斯还指导了很多优秀的影片，其中便包括了1958年的《历劫佳人》。影片《历劫佳人》最让人津津乐道的便是开场那段长约3分20秒的长镜头拍摄。

这组长镜头的镜头组成如下：

• 由定时炸弹作为开头，采用跟镜头的方式，记录了施害者把定时炸弹放在汽车后备箱的过程，为这个长镜头设下了悬念，正好呼应了希区柯克的那句话“炸弹爆炸并不可怕，等待爆炸才可怕”。
• 紧接着，镜头往上升，一对男女（受害者）入画。
• 镜头追随着车，升起，左移。来到马路上后，镜头先下降，然后往后倒退，画面变成全景，可以看到交通警察及行人等。
• 随着汽车走走停停，一对过马路的情侣（主角）也入画了，镜头落到与他们同等的高度，并把焦点转移到了他们身上，开始跟随着他们。期间，汽车时入时出。这无形间将汽车和男女主角建立了联系。
• 直到边检站，汽车和情侣同时出现在同个镜头里。通过边检站人员与两对情侣的分别对话，可以初步了解到人物的背景。在汽车要驶出边检站的时候，车上女子抱怨好像听到了滴答声，但官员却不以为意。这无疑让观众更加揪心。
• 随着车开出去，镜头再次转移到主角情侣上，俩人相互拥抱接吻。此时爆炸声响起，长镜头结束。

一个优秀的长镜头不仅要在技术上让人拍案叫绝，还要在故事叙述上起到举足轻重的作用。而《历劫佳人》的长镜头无疑就实现了这两点。

• 从技术上，镜头的推拉摇移升降，人物的走位以及现场的调度都有很高水平的完成度。这组镜头运用轨道、起重机吊臂等工具的协作实现了纵向和横向的移动，同时在广角镜头和大特写镜头之间的切换十分自然。另外，在场面调度上，汽车的行驶、男女主角的步行，以及最终在边检站的会合，都很好地把握了时间和速度。
• 从故事叙述上，这个镜头交代了事件起因，设置了悬念，激发了观众对爆炸事件的疑问，从影片一开始就渲染了紧张不安的气氛。同时，此部分安排了男女主角的登场，将男女主角与故事联系起来。最后，这组镜头也交代了环境，让观众对美国和墨西哥边界小镇上的混乱和污秽一目了然。

《历劫佳人》如此精彩的长镜头，也使得后来导演纷纷致敬，包括罗伯特·奥尔特曼的《大玩家》、保罗·托马斯·安德森的《不羁夜》以及钮承泽的《爱》，都在影片开端使用了长镜头来交代故事背景和主要角色。正是奥逊·威尔斯如此娴熟的调度，才让电影史多了如此一个精彩的长镜头。

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这电影有好几个版本。现在网上的基本都是110分钟那版，据说这是最符合奥逊威尔森的想法一版。1958年历劫佳人的制片商背着奥逊威尔森粗略的剪辑后未经试映便草草上映，电影没有收到任何关注，最后票房惨败。后来威尔森看到制片方把自己的作品剪得乱七八糟，变奋笔疾书长达58页的备忘录。他将备忘录提交给制片高层，希望能重新剪辑。但当时好几部电影都不卖钱的威尔森没能得到他们的支持，这份58页的备忘录也就成了废纸。在备忘录的最后，他几乎用上了哀求的语气。在现在这版剪辑中的片头，就讲述了这段历史。

电影开头长达三分二十秒的复杂长镜头，让我佩服不已。秀才点兵里私塾教书的那场连接长镜头，就有点这个意思。镜头开始于一个年轻人拨动定时炸弹按钮的大特写，随后跟着这个年轻人来到一辆轿车前，年轻人将炸弹放入轿车后备箱，在车主带着女伴上车前迅速逃离，车子启动，此后镜头便一直跟车在墨西哥和美国边界的小镇上移动，车子经过行人，小贩，指挥交通的警察，羊群，以及主角墨西哥检察官瓦格斯和他的老婆苏珊。运动的镜头停在两国边界的过关检查站边，准备度蜜月的瓦格斯和老婆正准备酝酿一个吻，那辆载着炸弹的车已经过关，在美国境内爆炸。这个长镜头随即中止，迅速切向被炸上天的车子。这组镜头，在空间上既有横向移动，又有纵向升降，还有远近的推拉，景别一直在大特写和大广角之间转换，这在以后的电影中也得一见。这组镜头的另一个关键在于，除了技术上这个层次，还有那枚随时可能爆炸的炸弹，在情绪上一直引导着观众的神经。

除了这场戏，还有一处经典的电影场面调度。浑身沾满毒品味道的苏珊被混混们弄到镇上的旅馆，帮派首领乔大叔企图诬陷瓦格斯，并将昆兰也拉到自己的阴谋中，但昆兰并不接受这种敲诈，这会让乔大叔抓住自己的把柄，喝得醉醺醺的昆兰与乔大叔在狭窄的旅馆房间里的打斗起来。窗外霓虹灯一闪一灭，激烈的动作也随光影一闪一灭，当昆兰用丝巾勒死乔大叔的时候，手提摄影机的运动使画面癫狂起来，剪辑在苏珊将醒的脸，昆兰藏在昏暗灯光里的脸，乔大叔挣扎动作中交叉往复。昆兰杀死人后，关门离去，情绪的高潮借助霓虹灯照耀在乔大叔眼珠暴突的脸上，这堪比任何一部恐怖片的景象让刚刚从苏醒的苏珊吓得惊慌失措。

影片剧情开始没多久便可以看出，开头的炸弹事件，到后来几乎成为消逝，情节重点变成了昆兰和瓦格斯的较量。这两个男人间的较量，黑色电影中所必需的道德上的好与坏之间的冲突。黑色电影多少是要将这些人身上的好处显现出来，然后看着他们因为种种原因无奈地作恶多端，并且因命运的不可控制而最终惨死，让观众心生复杂的感觉。黑色电影中的悲剧大多都是这样。他们俩身上分别有这着两种力量，昆兰是一种原始野蛮的权力代表，他在影片中出场时，叼着雪茄，从黑暗的车子中挤出肥大的身体，一张脸扭曲到没有人形，但昆兰依然充满正义感相信犯罪的人一定会受到应有的惩罚。瓦格斯代表着法律的威严与规定，在没有证据前，即便凭强烈的直觉确凿一个人有罪，也不能定罪。他的形象高大帅气，仿佛法律的代言人一样。

但这俩人的对立并不是截然分明的。昆兰虽然武断，但他办案高效，在法律的常规手段发生不了作用时，昆兰的非常规手段便起了作用，尽管没有证据作伪证。但片尾通过施瓦泽的口中得知他怀疑的桑切斯确实是爆炸案的凶手。这样的结果让昆兰的违法行为有些模糊和暧昧。从法律的角度来说昆兰是有罪，他理应受到审判。但在观众心中，当得知昆兰妻子的遭遇时，我们对他的行为多了一些理解和包容。另一边瓦格斯当得知苏珊处于危险之中时，显露出来强烈的暴力倾向。最后靠偷听来收集昆兰的罪证同样显得不是那么光明正大。瓦格斯这个绝对正义的人物这么来看就有些模糊了。

这也许就是导演想要表达的，除了复杂高超的表现手法，正是这种善恶交织，目的和手段的互相矛盾，给了影片一种深层次的思考，使观众回味无穷。奥逊威尔森的所有电影中几乎都能多少看到他本人的影子，就像公民凯恩。他的人生同样复杂曲折。

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DATE: December 5, 1957

TO: Edward I. Muhl, Vice-President in charge of production Universal-International Pictures

FROM: Orson Welles, writer and director of TOUCH OF EVIL.

I much regret that a business meeting Friday and illness Monday prevented me from seeing the picture until Tuesday. Work on the following notes was commenced as soon afterwards as I could obtain help in the typing.

Unhappily, my illness has slowed me up somewhat, and an unexpected shortage in secretarial help finds me, at the end of a long day, without a fair copy of the remainder of these notes to put into your hands. I shall go on working through the night, however, and with typists getting an early start tomorrow, it's safe to promise you the complete memo sometime before the end of the morning.

I assume that the music now backing the opening sequence of the picture is temporary...

As the camera roves through the streets of the Mexican bordertown, the plan was to feature a succession of different and contrasting Latin American musical numbers - the effect, that is, of our passing one cabaret orchestra after another. In honky-tonk districts on the border, loudspeakers are over the entrance of every joint, large or small, each blasting out it's own tune by way of a "come-on" or "pitch" for the tourists. The fact that the streets are invariably loud with this music was planned as a basic device throughout the entire picture. The special use of contrasting "mambo-type" rhythm numbers with rock 'n' roll will be developed in some detail at the end of this memo, when I'll take up details of the "beat" and also specifics of musical color and instrumentation on a scene-by-scene and transition-by-transition basis.

In the version I was shown yesterday, it's not clear where you have decided to place the credits. A brief report on this will determine whether or not my old ideas for sound and music patterns in this opening reel are still of some potential value. Since a clear description of this original plan will occupy some space and take a little more time to put together, I'll postpone this pending your reply.

The moment when Vargas says to Susan, "Don't be morbid..." is an unpleasant one and creates a harmful impression. (In an earlier memo, I made a strong point of this.)

This is the scene as it appeared in Welles' script:

REVERSE ANGLE - NEAR THE FLAMING WRECK OF THE CAR

The following sequence is photographed with a hand camera - the operator following Mike and Susan through the crowd on foot. Mike, followed by Susan, is running forward when an OLD MAN (a field-hand type) dashes by, going in the other direction. Mike stops him and there is a swift exchange in Spanish.

SUSAN Mike! - What's happened?

The old man dashes OFF SCENE. Mike continues hurrying toward the scene of the accident, Susan tagging along at his side.

MIKE It exploded - SUSAN (breathlessly, by now they are almost running) Just the car? - How could it do that? MIKE I'd better find out, Susie. Don't you come any closer... it's bound to be messy... We'll have to postpone the soda, I'm afraid -

SUSAN (catching up with him) Why? - Can't I come and see, too? MIKE (turning back with a nervous laugh) Darling, don't be morbid. SUSAN (Flaring up a trifle) Well, what are you being, for golly's sake? Anyway, it happened over here on the American side - so - MIKE (his voice hardens) So it's none of my business? SUSAN (after a moment) That's sort of what I mean, I guess. MIKE (very serious) You're wrong, love. This could be very unpleasant for us... SUSAN For us - ? MIKE I mean for Mexico. (Sighs) There's probably nothing I can do - SUSAN So - MIKE So I'll try not to be too long about it.

He kisses her in haste but very tenderly - then turns and breaks into a run. HAND CAMERA FOLLOWING HIM TO THE wrecked car. Policemen are holding off the gathering crowd.

The present editing not only retains this line, but the cut between Vargas's leading Susan off-scene and their next two-shot is very rough. The original editing of this particular little section was really quite effective and I honestly can't see what, from any point of view, has been accomplished by tearing it up and re-building it in this form. In terms of clarity, nothing is gained; considerable excitement has been lost and an unpleasant line (which I regret having written) has been put back in.

[This was changed by Universal].

Schwartz' line: "He must be driving up from that turkey ranch of his", is unclear and must obviously be dubbed.

[The line was changed to: "I got him out of bed at his ranch, he's on his way."]

"An hour ago, Rudy Linneker had this town in his pocket... etc., etc." - must also be re-dubbed with considerable more force and attack by Mr. Collins, if the present editing is to be retained. The jump to this from Chief Gould's line just previous to this is most upsetting to the ear, and I must emphasize that this is not merely a case of "balancing" in the final process of sound-mixing. The Police Chief is literally screaming (to cover sounds of the arriving fire engines, ambulances and other background effects) while Adair in the cut right after it, is speaking in a very subdued mood. It may be that Adair and Gould should both be dubbed again, but it will probably be sufficient to re-do only the Adair line giving it more force. This may seem an un-important detail, but the abrupt, very extreme contrast in attack between these two brief cuts needlessly underlines the arbitrary character of the editing at this point and, without re-dubbing, is bound to create a most upsetting effect.

The pace would be helped if a part of the line "that I don't think Mr. Vargas claims... etc., etc." be laid over the close-up of Vargas.

Resigned as I am to the fact that a great majority of my previous notes and suggestions have been disregarded, the case of the scene between Grandi and Susan is one of the few issues I feel justified in reopening. This scene is just exactly a thousand percent more effective played, as it was first arranged, in two parts, with a cutaway to the scene of the explosion between those two parts.

No matter how the scene is edited, this scene has - and was intended to have - a curious, rather inconclusive quality. It was written that way and directed and played that way. The audience is presented with a menacing villain who does not, in fact, succeed in being very menacing after all. He takes a threatening tone with Susan, but as it turns out, his threats are vague and the audience must begin to realize (if the scene works at all) that he's actually more frightened than frightening. Dividing this scene in two parts, as we intended, and keeping the situation with Vargas at the scene of the explosion "alive" in the audience's mind, is not to confuse but to clarify. Making a short contrapuntal reference to what is going on across the border underlines and precisely illustrates the correct values. Absolutely nothing is gained by gluing these two parts together, except to make the total scene seem rather long and rather shapeless. The shooting was done, for the most part, on location, certain reverses and close-ups having been picked up in the studio. Now I did not allow in shooting these for a version in two parts, and hence, there is no available footage for continuous action. As the editing now stands, the welding of these two parts has been managed with as much skill as the resources in actual film made possible, and I congratulate whoever made the attempt. It remains, however, just that: an attempt.

The off stage dialogue "...who sent to make trouble..." (there is more to the line than this but I have no covering note) which is now laid over the rather lengthy shot of "Pancho" is an ingenious effort, but as a real solution in the editing it simply does not - and cannot - come off.

When photography falls sharply below a particular standard, cameramen say that the scene shot is not "commercial." They do not, of course, mean that it is too "artistic" for the commercial market, but that the physical quality of the film is not up to the ordinary minimum standards generally required for exhibition. The sort of editing it was necessary to resort to in the attempt to force these two parts of a sequence into the form of a single scene can only be described in the same way: it is simply not commercial.

By all means retain, in its main lines the edited form of this reel as you now have it put together. Little of the admirable labors of Ernie Nims and his assistants in behalf of clarity need be lost, but let me urge very earnestly that the cutaway from Grandi - in which he was just starting to menace Susan (the scene's deliberately anti-climatic quality, not at this point, having been established) be retained.

The cut by which we returned to Grandi (after a brief visit to the scene of the explosion) with his violent movement towards the mirror and the line: "We used to have a nice quiet town around here!" - was also a very good cut indeed. Both were exceptionally effective and cry out to be restored. In the desire to completely re-edit and re-arrange these opening reels, I do sincerely believe that the decision to unite the two Grandi scenes into a single sequence was born of an overall desire for simplification and clarity - and, granting the worth of the other cuts, this was the one change too many. This was the one alteration which cannot be defended from any point of view in terms of its result. What matters is the really rough jump in editing, - unavoidable in the present version.

If I'd been one of your number during the editorial discussions, I should know whom to address on this question which I consider to be so important. As it is, I can only plead with whoever it was who championed the notion that these two scenes be joined together as one - plead that since all other rearrangements in all these opening sequences are now fixed in an acceptable form, the Grandi-Susan scene be re-examined with an open mind. No great effort will be needed to find the proper footage for intercutting from the wealth of material available from the various scenes which play by the flaming car. It's my opinion that the entrance of Quinlan should be saved for this. I think that moving the conflict between Quinlan and Vargas closer to the street scene in front of the hotel will aid clarity and much improve the narrative line. But this is only one of several solutions. Quinlan's arrival through his line, "Whoever did it, y' jackass," and the cut of the blazing car would also make a most effective transition. You would then return to Grandi (by a quick dissolve, if you prefer) for his line, "We used to have a nice quiet town around here!" This would play beautifully. The subject of Grandi's anxiety would have been dramatically illustrated, we would not have left the scene of the explosion until after all our principals had been established, and the device of cutting away from Quinlan (clearly the most significant figure to appear since the entrance, at the start of the film, of the leading man and leading woman) would pique the audience interest without the remotest danger of confusion. This is in the best, classic tradition of movie continuity, the clinching virtue of which is the fact that in this arrangement we would never stay away from either story Susan's or Vargas's long enough to lose their separate but relating threads of interest.

But as I've said, a number of attractive solutions present themselves. What's vital is that both stories - the leading man's and the leading woman's - be kept equally and continuously alive; each scene, as we move back and forth across the border, should play at roughly equal lengths leading up to the moment at the hotel when the lovers meet again. This simple but drastic improvement, added to the body of Ernie Nims clear and concise version of this opening section of the picture, will put the identification with the characters in a just proportion and in a form which I'm sure you'll admit, if you're willing to try it, is irresistibly interesting. No point concerning anything in the picture is made with such urgency and such confidence as this. Do please - please give it a fair try.

[These cross-cutting changes were not made by Universal, but were carried out in the '98 re-edit].

On the cue "Mexico City", Grandi is interrupted by Pancho who shushes him. This extended "ssh...!" must be dubbed in. This minor detail is mentioned because if forgotten, it might seem that Pancho was speaking a line which had somehow been dropped out of the soundtrack. At the end of the Grandi scene, there is a new trim which is by no means an improvement. In almost every instance of this kind - that is to say, where there's simply a difference of taste between your editing and mine I have resigned myself to the futility of discussion, and will spare you my comments. In most cases, I can see, or guess, the point of view which has motivated the change, even when I don't happen, personally, to agree with it. But in some few instances, the point of view remains completely mysterious to me, and in those cases where the improvement is not apparent, and where I cannot fathom the reasons for alteration, I'm registering, as I do here, my objections. This matter of the "trim" isn't a vital issue one way or the other, but since it took me some considerable work on the moviola to decide on the precise frame to cut away from the Grandi street scene, and again, to pick up Vargas and the others near the hotel, I find it hard to resist pointing out that the new version - though the idea behind it may well be superior - displays a much hastier craftsmanship.

[This change was made by Universal].

My earlier memo noted that several "wild" lines were to have been dubbed between Menzies and myself to cover the long move by Vargas across the street and up the alley to the stage door of the cabaret, where he, at last, catches up with the group. True enough, this conversation between the detectives is not absolutely vital to the plot, but the present considerable lengthening of the scene between Vargas and Susan in the hotel lobby, would seem to lend increased importance to the need for keeping the other group "alive" as they proceed across the street toward the night club. On the other hand, I see that it may be also argued that having left this group for a longer period of time, hearing their voices during Vargas's move across the street may, in fact, tend to be confusing rather that helpful. I raise the point in the form of a question and without any definite recommendation on my own.

Since the question of dubbing has been raised here, I should also note that there are several lines of mine in the new and extended version of the scene of the explosion which will have to be dubbed. Quite possibly, Adair, Gould, Menzies and Schwartz must also be dubbed. A single running of the picture did not give me an opportunity to note this in accurate detail. Most of the talking in the new lengthened version of the scene is done by me and what turns up in my notes as I transcribe them now refers to this dialogue - which is indeed far from distinct.

Further on the question of dubbing: A note reminds me that there is a line of Quinlan's at the end of the quarrel scene, (the scene which plays in front of Tania's) - a line by Quinlan as he turns away with Menzies and which was not recorded at the time of shooting on location. I stand ready to do this post-synching at what I hope will be your earliest convenience.

[Presumably, the line was: "Come on Pete, lets get back to civilization."]

We now come to the first additional dialogue: the new scene between Susan and Vargas. In the light of the decision to deny me permission to direct these scenes, to write the dialogue for them or to collaborate in that writing, or indeed even to be present during your discussions of the matter, I must, of course, face the strong probability that I am the very last person whose opinion will be likely to carry any weight with you. I am, therefore, limiting myself to points which might genuinely interest you - points which seem to me to interfere quite actively with the story itself, and tend to confuse the narrative line. Without going into any question of quality in the actual writing of the dialogue for this added scene in the hotel lobby, I think two points are truly confusing to the simple mechanics of the plot, and this, I suggest, could very probably be fixed by the simple process of dubbing slightly different lines over the scene. To begin with the less important point: Vargas tells his wife to be sure and lock the door to her room. Yet, we will see him later opening this door by a simple turn of the knob. Since she has been genuinely frightened and disturbed, it is a little hard to understand why she has chosen to disregard her husband's good advice. As the film now stands, his injunction about the door locking is the last thing she hears from him before going to the nearby room, and it isn't easy to see how she could possibly have forgotten it during the course of that short walk. In the original version, the question of the door being locked is simply not raised. Bringing Susan to the door to unlock it would have changed the basic action in the scene in the hotel room and made Vargas's semi-comic confusion in the darkness unworkable. Thus, he was through the door and into the room before the audience could have time to think about the question of Susan's locking it at all. Anyone who wished to be sharply analytical could have assumed that she had simply neglected to do this - a foolish but not really an idiotic mistake. However, if her husband has told her to lock the door, her failure to do so is underlined, and the audience, forced to think about the whole door-locking business, is given a choice between blaming the director for carelessness, or considering that the character played by the leading lady is flighty to the point of feeble-mindedness.

The second point about this new scene in the hotel lobby is, I think, a more important one and has to do with reference to "those boys." Unfortunately, since this new dialogue was never sent to me, I do not have the exact text and was unable, during a single running of the picture, to write it down in the projection room. The substance, however, of what is said at this point would seem to be that Susan has been impressed by the existence of what she describes as "those boys." or "those kids." I believe Vargas also directly refers to them in some such terms. The purpose here, one presumes, was to establish the gang of delinquents, on the face a good idea. But a real difficulty presents itself in terms of logic: Susan has not seen this gang at all and neither has the audience. True, one boy directed her attention towards the photograph, but he could only impress her (and the audience) as being one of several people in the street. As yet, there has been no impression given at all of a group of "kids." Susan and the audience would remember "Pancho," some old men, a woman with a baby, and Grandi. Of these, of course, Pancho and Grandi will impress themselves as the significant figures. In other words, we have established a middle-aged gangster and his young henchman, and beyond that, a general, rather vague impression of Mexicans of all different ages and types obviously bearing no special meaning in the story. "Sal" will appear later and so will "Risto." Only in the scene in the street between Grandi and these three boys will the actual existence of a gang of youths begin to impress itself. This talk of "boys" and "kids" is almost certainly going to have the effect of confusing the audience. If Susan and Vargas had emphasized Grandi, the conversation would be clear. As it is, the natural reaction will be to wonder, "What kids are they talking about?"

The whole problem of the opening reels is one of clarity. There are several different sets of characters and innumerable relationships which must be very clearly established and set off one from the other. I believe that the criticism of my own, unfinished version of these opening reels was entirely justified and, as I told him, Ernie Nims made dramatic progress in reducing this confusion. The added dialogue on the subject of the "kids", however, is the very contrary to clarification. It poses a question in the audiences mind which cannot logically be answered at this point in the story when we must agree that the slightest sense of bewilderment may spark an irritation and produce that chain reaction of bewilderment which leads so often to a lack of interest. Thus, in the strongest terms possible, I want to urge that you consider this point on its merits.

Just as in July you were able to look at the pictures with fresh eyes and with reactions uncompromised by an intimate knowledge of the material, so I am now able to see this added scene as something quite new, and can therefore make a fairer judgment perhaps than those responsible for the scene. A few slight word changes can be made and dubbed onto this footage without difficulty by means of which this bewildering emphasis on the "kids" can be sufficiently reduced, and if I could have the text of this new scene, I would be happy to work on it, and present you immediately with suggested alterations in the dialogue. You will prefer, I suppose, to accomplish this on your own and without any direct collaboration on my part. But do please give the question some thought.

[Both scenes with the offending dialogue, referring to the "locked door" and "those kids," was changed by Universal].

Some specific problems are posed by the introduction of the new scene in the hotel lobby concerning which I simply cannot bring myself to keep silent. The excuse for this added scene, I take it, is clarification of the plot, and perhaps, too, the value of added footage for Miss Leigh and Mr. Heston. But, in terms of the characters they play, and their relationship to each other, I must insist that, as far as the author is concerned - (and for whatever remnant of interest may be attached to his opinion) - this particular new scene goes directly against the intentions of the script, and the original line of the story. This added dialogue makes the later scene (one of my own), in which Susan packs and stamps out of her hotel room, completely arbitrary. Coming, as this does now, quite without emotional preparation of any kind, we wonder what makes Susan so coldly furious with her husband, and why, when he opens the door, she doesn't simply throw her arms around him and beg him to take her away from this awful place. The new lobby scene leaves our couple in a fairly warm relationship, and with a perfectly rational understanding of each other. True, the young wife states her opposition to hubby's police activities in the course of their honeymoon, but her indignation is expressed in a poutingly "cute" sort of tone (a standard cliché reaction of newlyweds in B pictures). She is, in fact, more hurt than angry; this new scene with her husband actually leaves her fairly well resigned to what, as her husband explains it, is to be a short but necessary operation. Thus, the essential tension between them is totally relaxed: we have nothing "cooking" between these two except a hint of their physical interest in each other and their momentary but inconsequential pang at being parted. The original story line went, briefly, as follows: A honeymoon couple, desperately in love, is abruptly separated by a violent incident (the bombing of the car) - an incident which, although it has no personal bearing on either of them, the man considers as a matter of his urgent professional concern. This feeling of responsibility by Vargas is, of course, an expression of the basic theme of the whole picture; further, his wife's resistance to such masculine idealism, her failure, and even her refusal, to understand is a human and very feminine reaction which any audience can grasp easily and sympathize with. She is, after all, in a foreign country and has been subjected to a series of indignities which irritate and bewilder her and which her husband fails to completely appreciate. Vargas's behavior and her reaction make it necessary to dramatize and underline this temporary misunderstanding between them. By minimizing it, by sweetening their relationship at the wrong moment, and warming it up at precisely that point where the distance separating the man and woman should be at its greatest, there is a sharp loss in dimension, and both Vargas and Susan emerge as stock characters - the sort of routine "romantic leads" to be found in any programme picture.

[The added Hotel scene, directed by Harry Keller, remained in both the release and preview versions. It was eliminated from the '98 re-edit].

Here is the scene as Welles originally intended it: EXT. AND INT. HOTEL Through the glass window we can see Mike in the lobby, pressing questions on a bellhop. The man shrugs; Mike - looking worried - opens the door and comes out into the street just as Susan runs INTO Scene straight into his arms. CAMERA TIGHTENS TO A TWO SHOT

MIKE Susie! - Where in the world were you? Where did you go? SUSAN (weakly) Oh, Mike...darling... Just wait till I tell you. This crazy thing that happened to me -

And she starts to explain.

MIKE Tell me later.

MED SHOT - QUINLAN'S GROUP - MEXICAN STREET They exchange looks as they come to a halt.

QUINLAN Who's the jane? ADAIR (under his breath) His wife. QUINLAN Well, whatya know - ! (slight pause) She don't look Mexican either.

Quinlan turns and leads the way into Grandi's Rancho.

REVERSE - TIGHT TWO SHOT - MIKE AND SUSAN - HOTEL ENTRANCE

MIKE Darling, let me take you to the hotel. SUSAN (as Mike turns to go) You mean you're leaving me? MIKE (breaking in gently) I'll be just across the street - I hate leaving you like this, but, after all, I'm working on a case -

She glares at him; then turns to the honky-tonk.

HER VIEWPOINT - FULL SHOT - "GRANDI'S RANCHO"

With big cheesecake blow-ups. BACK TO SCENE

SUSAN (reading the sign) "Twenty Sizzling Strippers" - Some case! Who pinned the tin badge on you. Fearless Fosdick? MIKE Well, Susie - SUSAN Oh, for heaven's sake! MIKE (breaking off, doing a mild double-take) Fosdick? Who's he? SUSAN (with a sigh) A corny detective in a comic strip.

She marches indignantly INTO the hotel -

MIKE Susie -

But she has gone. He sighs and moves across the street.

The added scene in the hotel cannot have been made in the expectation of reaching a real level of sexiness; its tone is simply intimate - the tone of that standard "marital-friendly" relationship with which moviegoers are by now so very familiar. If it was felt that an extended scene between the two was really necessary at this point, then that scene should have been developed along the lines of the gulf widening between a couple passionately in love. This, believe me, is not at all a matter of mere preference on the part of the author of the script and the director of the picture. Here I invoke more than personal opinion; it's a simple fact that what I'm pressing on your acceptance has a very direct bearing on the story line.

The separation of the newlyweds is a vital point in that story line, it is a separation which doesn't come about through the arbitrary mechanics of the detective story, but develops as an organic progression of events implicit in the characters of the people rather than the plot. Woman's classic failure to fully appreciate and sympathize with that sense of abstract duty so peculiar to the male - a sense bearing no relationship to the personal reality of a marriage - is here intensified by the fact that these are honeymooners, that she's American and he a Mexican. Their separation, too, is directly the result of a sort of "border incident" in which the interests of their two native countries are in some conflict. This is a pretty good story. The underlying sex relationship was, in my opinion, stated with some degree of dramatic truth by developing it, just at this point, in terms of Susan's irritation and Vargas's exasperation: that form of quarreling which is sparked in the very midst of passion.

The later reconciliation in the car was intended as a climax to this particular phase of the story. Without the right preparation this makes no impact as a reconciliation but is merely another scene. The leading man and the leading woman cuddle up to each other and kiss; there is neither resolution nor development - just an empty display of snuggling. Now there's no intrinsic merit in a perfectly straightforward honeymoon relationship being interrupted by the machinery of a detective plot. In those terms, the girl would be present in our picture simply to provide "feminine interest" in its most shapeless and ordinary form. But if you're sure you prefer the boy-girl relationship to develop along the routine lines of uncomplicated wifely warmth and husbandry intimacy, then Susan's later actions in the bedroom and the manner in which she flings out of the hotel is totally unmotivated.

My promise to withhold direct attack from any of the other added scenes will, I hope, give me the right to hope that you, on your side, will be willing to re-examine this sequence in the light of the objections I've laid before you. Reducing the peculiar angles and sharp edges in this early relationship between Susan and Vargas eliminates whatever might be interesting about the couple. In these opening stages, regardless of any question of individual taste, I'm convinced that one story (mine) or the other (yours) should be told. The attempt to combine them annuls the logic of both.

I can well appreciate your proprietary feelings, for this new scene of yours. For my part, I've looked on the rest of the picture (and on the edited version I was so near to finishing last July) with just the same jealous sentiments of ownership. Pride in your own work is also bound to be stiffened by the special circumstances in which that work was carried out. That I was denied even the right of consultation with you is a hard fact strongly hinting that, of all people, I must be the least welcome as a critic. In spite of this - and in fairness to a picture which you now describe as "exceptionally entertaining" - I must ask that you open your mind for a moment to this opinion from the man who, after all, made the picture.

My effort has been to keep scrupulous care that this memo should avoid those wide and sweeping denunciations of your new material to which my own position naturally and sorely tempts me. In this one instance I'm passing on to you a reaction based - not on my convictions as to what my picture ought to be - but only what here strikes me as significantly mistaken in your picture. It's sufficiently your own by now, for me to be able to judge it on what I take to be your terms alone, and to bring to that judgment - (after so much time away from the film in any form) - a certain freshness of eye.

Where the story follows a new line, you must make quite sure that the vestigial remnants of the old line are not permitted to remain in too obvious conflict with your added material.

I ask you please to believe that what minimum criticism of that new material I am passing on to you, is made in recognition and full acceptance of the fact that the final shape and emphasis of the film is to be wholly yours. I want the picture to be as effective as possible - and now, of course, that means effective in your terms. Just on those terms, however, there are some contradictory elements which I venture to ask you to deal with; also an occasional lapse in continuity and one or two mistaken excisions. These I've chosen for this memo most economically - they are the changes I take to be indicated by your own new version rather than my old one - changes which are simple enough, and above all, easy enough to give me the hope they won't be disregarded.

I was pleased to see that the brief scene between Susan and Vargas on the hotel stairway has been restored. The cut away from Grandi, however, now seems like a mistake: the cut takes place in the middle of some word in the sentence "...half of you are too wet behind the ears." I'm sure this can be smoothed easily.

Checking the first draft of these notes I find that the question I wanted to put to you regarding the new scene in the car between Vargas and Susan, might just possibly, in it's simple form, give an impression of sarcasm. The question is this: do you mean us to gather that Quinlan's car encounters Vargas's out of sheer coincidence? I assure you no sarcasm in intended! I really want to know if this meeting is meant to be accidental. As it goes now, Vargas stops his car apparently because Susan suddenly wants to make love, or at least out of deference to an amorous mood, or perhaps as an indication of his own eager reaction to that mood... Now this raises an incidental point: if the purpose here is to warm up the sex interest, why not finish the scene on the kiss, with the police car interrupting the embrace (as in the original version)? If we carry on with the snuggling business, up to and including Susan's line to the effect that she figures she could sleep forever on her husband's shoulder, - surely the sexiness is banished in favor of the snooze. This in turn brings us back to the really important question of why Vargas stopped in the first place. Nothing in his attitude showed the slightest indication that this was a section of the road agreed upon for his rendezvous with Quinlan. To the contrary, the whole car stopping business now suggest a spur of the moment decision. I honestly don't know if that's what was intended; there's certainly nothing to be said against it. It may, indeed, be more sympathetic than the former version, but what we're then faced with is the problem of the police car driving up, so to speak, out of the blue. If no rendezvous was arranged, this seems to be a pretty out of the way corner of the wilderness for the two cars to just happen to meet. Maybe we can assume that they'd agreed, in a general way, to meet somewhere on this particular road. If this is so, why not put in some wild line from Vargas (over his back as he looks up at the arriving police car) which would make this clear?

[In Welles script, Vargas arranges to meet Quinlan at the American Police station, and when he stops the car to kiss Susan, they have already arrived back in town and park in front of the bus station].

A couple of other notes on this sequence are worth recommending if only because they're simple and easy to deal with quickly. Of these, the most important has to do with a new shot involving the police car and, (I think) Grandi's roadster. Either the shot itself, or it's placing, has a bewildering effect: one just doesn't know what's happening. Maybe eliminating the former shots which established Grandi as having followed Vargas's car is to blame for this; I don't know, and with only one viewing, I'm not ready with any valuable or constructive comments. The impression, however, was definitely muddled.

You must have had some good reason for cutting the footage in which Grandi's tailing operation was made clear to the audience, but after considerable thought, I'm still unable to make any sort of guess as to what those reasons could be. For the close angle of the chase, the plan was for a quite interesting pattern of newscasts to be heard on the radios of the two cars and in the two languages. When Vargas switched stations, there was to be a dreamy, old-fashioned Mexican waltz to take the place of the announcer's excited chatter, and thus underscore our short love scene with a sentimental note, nicely combining "local color" and, in realistic terms, perfectly justified. This pattern was to be rudely broken by the aggressive siren of Quinlan's car, and then-after Vargas's departure in that car-the gently picturesque lullaby would soothe Susan toward sleep as Menzies drove off with her.

This music would also have been useful in relation to the waking up business at the motel, and would all be part of a most intricately worked out sequence in which sirens, dynamite explosions, and various radio voices (including the news flashes in the police car) would play their different roles.

As it stands at present, the editing annihilates the possibility of this sound pattern around which, as a matter of fact, this whole series of closely related scenes was originally designed and photographed. What was meant to be a tour de force in the rather sadly neglected dimension of the sound track now cannot be anything more interesting than a succession of straight plot-scenes, all quite necessary to our story, but of no special value in themselves.

The excision of those quite colorful crane shots which feature Grandi's and Vargas's cars is less to be lamented, but I can't leave the sequence without registering doubts that this cut accomplishes much of anything in terms of pace. Establishing the oil derricks (rather surprising country, in which our closing scenes are played) was of some importance too. The audience, I believe, should be prepared for those derricks. This also was an element in a carefully built-up pattern - in this instance, a visual pattern.

(You may be sure that I have strong opinions on the quality of all the new dialogue, the texture of the photography and the direction and the playing of the new scenes, but, as I've said, the purpose of this memo is not to discuss every change I think should be made in the final version, - but solely to bring up those very few matters which I take to come within the framework of the picture as it now exists, and to which I hope you're ready to give a few moments of your open-minded attention.)

I have a note which reads - (rather cryptically, since it was written in the dark projection room) - "the new cut from Menzies line - 'brave, say -'" is confusing.

Unfortunately, I can't remember what that cut was. The line, of course, is spoken by Menzies to Susan in the car. (The scene was retaken, for some reason I don't know about, in front of a process screen). This sharp clipping off of dialogue gives a jerky, unpleasant impression, and it would seem better to cut this scene in the moving car entirely, rather than chop into it in this abrupt fashion. Perhaps, there was the feeling that Susan should be shown settling herself for sleep. But her state of drowsiness has been made perfectly obvious before this, and there would be nothing bewildering about finding her, after a dissolve, already asleep. I'm at a loss to see what other point her scene with Menzies can be expected to make - at least in its present truncated form. Personally, I liked Menzies' speaking of his boss as though Quinlan were a sort of superman, and I was also fond of the business of the newspaper clippings; but if you didn't like it, you'll certainly get no argument from me. This is one of those clear cases where somebody's taste and personal judgment must be responsible for the decision and, of course, that final judgment is yours.

[Ironically, Welles' memo noted so many lapses of logic in the new re-takes (of Menzies driving Susan to the Motel) - that Universal decided to simply drop all of them - even though they had gone through the considerable time and expense of re-shooting them! The studio re-takes were retained in the preview version and the '98 re-edit].

There's no need to repeat my arguments, - (given at some length in my first memo last summer) - against the re-shuffling of scenes in the sequence following Susan's departure with Menzies. More than ever, I'm convinced that the best order is the original order. The switching about in continuity is particularly mistaken from the point of view of simple plot clarity.

The name "Farnum" is used too sparingly, and, the scene with the construction crew is so brief, that unless it's followed immediately by the scene in the Sanchez apartment, there's every likelihood that the whole reference to Farnum and his dynamite will just bewilder the audience. This reference, which is so vital to the plot-line, is embedded in the very middle of an extremely "busy" and elaborate scene, one in which the audience's ability to follow everything that's being talked about is strained to the utmost point of safety. Only direct juxtaposition of these two scenes gives us any hope of not "losing them" just here.

[This change was made in the release version, but not in the preview version. It was also made in the '98 re-edit].

Susan's arrival at the motel is less confusing, and plays far more effectively, if it comes right after her separation from Vargas. I note that somebody managed to locate at least one of the shots covering Menzies encounter with Grandi. This certainly clarifies the situation of Grandi's tailing Menzies' car. The use of odd bits of dialogue from the subsequent scene works quite well. It's my impression, however, that this trick has been somewhat over-exploited. Less of this dialogue is needed, I think, and it's surely important not to repeat exactly the same lines from the same take, and on the same sound "level" immediately afterwards.

The slow lengthy progress of Vargas's car (driven by Menzies) from where it was first parked to the motel really must be eliminated. This seems to go on forever and there's no conceivable interest in watching it. I have the impression that a dissolve or cut to the very close shot of Susan sleeping with Menzies' voice over scene "wake up, Mrs. Vargas, wake up..." should lead us directly into the first motel scene (between Susan, Menzies and Grandi.) True, the cars are parked over on the road, but at this point the geography is unknown to the audience, and there's nothing whatever to indicate (in the very full shot which you now use for Grandi's arrest), that the motel building are just out of scene. By using the close shot of Susan waking, perhaps we can eliminate the starting up of the car and that long, dreary move up the driveway. This is a suggestion and nothing more, since there's obviously no way of making sure of it's practicability without trying it. You'll agree that this section, in it's present form, is not merely dull and lengthy, but so boring that the whole story interest is gravely jeopardized. In the fear that the business of Grandi's arrest might not be understandable, I think we've gone too far overboard in showing it, and in repeating explanations. Indeed, this whole business is now so noisily explicit that it has the unfortunate effect of wrecking the comedy in the next scene: we are no longer amused by these two, but just fed up at their shouting at each other.

[This change was made by Universal in both the release and preview versions].

The case of Grandi's following Menzies prompts me to inquire why you've cut all shots of Grandi's pursuit; his hiding when Vargas and Susan stop on the road; his ducking from the police car; and his continued chasing of Vargas's car. If my version was felt to be wrong, there is surely enough material for another editing in which the clarity of this plot point could be further underwritten-in visual terms. This would make possible an elimination of some of that nagging and repetitive sound track on the road by the motel.

[These scenes were cut by Universal for the release version, and partially restored in the preview version. The '98 re-edit made additional changes to help clarify the scenes].

In Susan's scene with Weaver, there is a very curious cut by which his move from above the window to the door is eliminated. This is accomplished by an extreme lengthening of Susan's close-up, while Weaver is heard in a continuous, bewildering chatter off-scene. The close-up is by no means one of Miss Leigh's best, but even if the camera flattered her more than it does in this shot, her reaction, which is one of drowsy reaction, could not, by its very nature, be interesting enough to support such a very extended close-up. More important than this is the fact that what has been chopped out of Weaver's performance is strikingly good material in itself. Further, it prepares for and builds up to the extreme eccentricity of his behavior at the door. Unless we see him stuttering (as he does so magnificently) about his position as night-man unless we follow his startled, neurotic, scrabbling progress from the position where he's first cornered to the door through which he wants to escape, his sudden wild behavior must strike us with a sort of shock, as being wholly arbitrary. This scene is balanced on a perilously delicate point: the audience simply must have time enough to - so to speak - digest Weaver's character. If they are even slightly rushed in the process, he will seem to be merely phony. Instead of developing as a queerly likeable and diverting sort of zany, he will emerge as an exasperating ham. The simple fact is that "snapping up" or "tightening" any of Weaver's scenes does not help the pace, it only results in a rackety, disjointed effect which is not pace at all, but raw confusion. Here the question of rhythm is absolutely central. Each one of Weaver's scenes was so fully rehearsed, so painstakingly built up in terms of what I can only describe as "sound-pattern" that a single snip of the scissors must bring the whole structure down in noisy ruins.

[Universal cut almost half of the 'Night Man' sequence in the release version, which was retained in the preview version and the '98 re-edit].

In the scene in the blind woman's shop, I note with distress that the shot of Vargas at the telephone has been blown up in such a way as to eliminate the blind woman in the foreground. She was not there by accident. Her presence embarrasses Vargas and inhibits his phone conversation with Susan. This provides a curious note of minor tension which will be missed. Susan in the strange motel speaking with drowsy sexiness to her husband in the even more strange shop of the blind; his discomfort at the quiet, oddly attentive figure of the blind woman - these were elements in a rather carefully balanced little plan. It seems a shame to disrupt this simply because it struck someone that the woman sitting there in the foreground was rather peculiar. It was meant to be peculiar. If the dialogue between Susan and Mike was more significant, if vital plot points were being established, then, of course, the blind woman would be quite the wrong sort of distraction. As it is, she lends a special dimension to a scene which, on the face of it, advances our story not at all and must be perfectly routine.

[This change was made by Universal].

The new close-up of Vargas in the Sanchez apartment is probably not something I can hope to persuade you to eliminate, but, all the same, I break my vow to avoid hopeless causes in this memo just long enough to ask a question: if Vargas fully "registers" on Grandi - if he goes so far as to state menacingly that he was anxious to meet him and to start (in a broken speech) a question about Grandi's treatment of his wife - why doesn't he continue?

In writing this scene, I was most careful to avoid a dramatic confrontation of Grandi by Vargas, and to arrange things so that Vargas never really focuses on him. It seemed important to me that his concentration should remain on Sanchez because once he really stopped to think about Grandi, and tied him up with Susan, there could be no moral excuse for him to avoid following up the issue and taking Grandi fiercely to task.

[Universal apparently inserted a jarring close-up of Vargas into the long take in Sanchez's apartment. Thankfully, this shot never made it into any version of the film].

For the scene between Vargas and Schwartz in the racing car, I was at some pains to make inserts of the car radio. Ordinarily, of course, inserts are not the responsibility of the director, but I regarded these as so important that I made them myself. They should come at the beginning and at the end of this scene. The effect I had in mind has never been seen or heard and, therefore, could not be judged. The scene was to open on the car radio with the announcer recapping the plot in the form of a fragment from an excited news bulletin. Vargas's hand switches from this voice to music - the music being a very gay and extremely fast Mexican march. We then cut to the two-shot of Schwartz and Vargas, who play their scene to the accompaniment of this lively "chase music." This is particularly important because even the second dubbing of the scene failed to eliminate a boxy mechanical quality in the sound track. The background of "chase music" from the radio would do much to fix this and would also offer an amusing, faintly ironic comment on its own. The closing shot of the scene begins with a down angle on the two in the car in which Vargas's hand goes again to the radio. The idea here was for the music to be suddenly raised in volume. Then, when the camera cranes up, and the car pulls violently ahead, there would be an interesting reverse pattern in the sound, with the "chase music" abruptly fading as the car speeds off into the distance.

[This change was made by Universal].

The mirror shot of Miss McCambridge and the blonde Grandi girl (ending with the line "...the fun is just beginning") is so placed in the continuity as to make no sense at all. The effect is as if these two types have suddenly found their way into Susan's room. Unless fixed, this very brief scene should certainly be cut.

I take pleasure in reporting my enthusiastic approval of the new scene between Schwartz and Vargas. It's a good photographic match, the cut itself follows smoothly and the new words make a definite contribution to the clarity of the story.

A minor point: why is the camera move off Mr. Collins and on to Vargas's swiftly moving car now trimmed away? Was it confusing? It was a good shot and I'd thought the fact of Vargas and Schwartz's departure was helped by it. Anyway, without the camera's swinging to the car the angle of Adair is a bad butting match with the two shot of Quinlan and Gould. If the car can't be restored, how about leaving out this close-up?

[The moving car shot was restored by Universal].

The present arrangement of scenes in the motel - the scenes building up to the attack on Susan - adds up to a sequence having its own simple melodramatic progression, but which, in fact, is quite a meager substitute for the original plan.

By jamming together all the footage in which various members of the gang enter Susan's room, the cumulative effect is not really so very frightening; it even runs into some danger of being ridiculous. The sheer number of goons following each other through that door and around the bed is just the sort of thing which may very easily get a bad laugh.

[This change was not made by Universal, but was made for the '98 re-edit].

Doing away with the inter-cut to the motel office is particularly regrettable. This is a case where a whole sequence of effects depended on the use of music. The film for this was shot strictly within a most precise pattern involving rather special arrangements of sound and silence. The crescendo of suspense was to depend more on the sound track than the images. The decision to shuffle those images in a new, and much more obvious order could never have been made, except in ignorance of the basic scheme.

In the simplest terms of the familiar mechanics of suspense, intercutting to Weaver (who, after all, was Susan's only hope) was a device of obvious merit. His sudden snapping off of the music and the reaction to this in Susan's room was important in a sequence which included many queer starts and stops; sudden gasps; silences; - all this alternating with the roar of rock 'n' roll. This was (or would have been) twice as exciting as the present version - to put it very conservatively.

The scene was conceived musically and it depended more than anything on syncopation. Syncopation has been utterly removed and we are left with a straightforward quick step.

[The cut-away to Dennis Weaver was restored by Universal, with further refinements to the soundtrack made for the '98 re-edit].

In fairness to the picture, I urge that the real scene be given a fair chance to prove itself in the form in which it was photographed and planned. The endless parade of delinquents around the bed is a real invitation to giggles from the audience, and at best, the present telescoping presents only the bare bones of an event.

In the Hall of Records a close shot of Menzies looking up from the table has been put back into the scene. I had cut this because of a mistaken use of the wide-angle lens which distorts Menzies's face so grotesquely as to bring the scene itself to dead stop. There's really no use upsetting the audience this way. The scene played all right without this weird close-up.

[This change was not made by Universal, but was made in the '98 re-edit].

The second Hall of Records scene must not be followed by Menzies calling Marlene. This violent distortion of the continuity is a disaster. The end of this scene was carefully photographed to make the most effective use of the dissolve into the motel office where Weaver sits singing moodily to himself, and we hear off-screen, the arrival of Vargas's car. An establishing shot of the motel would be necessary unless the action follows the clear and simple line of Vargas leaving the Hall of Records and going directly to join his wife. In effect, we must stay with Vargas because his departure from the Hall of Records accompanies the subject of Quinlan's guilt. If we leave Vargas for another scene it's logical to expect that when we pick him up again he's pursuing the Quinlan affair. His turning up in the dark office won't at first suggest Susan at all, and by the time we make out what he's saying to the shadowy figure of Weaver the damage from momentary bewilderment will have been done. This is all the more true if the cut away from Vargas shows us Menzies phoning Marlene. What I'm talking about here is not a really drastic befuddlement, just a mild series of short circuits in the logic of the visual progression. In themselves these short circuits are virtually unnoticeable, their total effect is vaguely numbing, there's no real dislocation but rather an insensible loosening of tension.

Menzies left in the Hall of Records, is left fixed...a tragic, almost immobile figure. To dissolve from such a tableau to Marlene, and to discover that Menzies is busy telephoning her is disturbing. Not dead wrong, but definitely off pitch. The dissolve doesn't leave Menzies looking as though he were about to do anything. The movement is by Vargas, and Vargas is the man we feel like following.

I cannot put this too strongly: either leave the brief scene with Marlene where it was meant to be, or cut it out. Another alternative is to find another place for it. In all events it must not follow the Hall of Records.

[This change was made by Universal, who inserted Menzies phoning Tanya as a cutaway shot in the middle of the attack on Susan. However, it seems quite likely this was not where Welles intended the scene to go, since just two scenes earlier, Menzies has found Quinlan in a bar and directed him to Vargas's meeting with Adair. A more likely placement for the scene, would be between the scene of Vargas leaving the Mirador Motel, (after seeing his wife's ravaged room), and Quinlan's clandestine meeting with Grandi at the Hotel Ritz].

The dialogue cuts in the motel office scene may shorten playing time but nothing is accomplished in terms of pace. There is, in fact, a serious loss of suspense. Weaver's performance building up to the business with the hotel register is one of the most perfectly brilliant things of its kind I've ever been privileged to have in a picture. There would have to be some very big advantage to the playing of the whole sequence to justify throwing out the major part of such a scene as that. There is no such advantage. The building up about the party now makes little or no sense and Vargas's growing apprehension (and ours) is unexploited. Here was a lovely developed atmosphere of suspense; and the suspense really worked, too. God knows it's called for at this point. To chop into it in the interests of plain speed is to let the pressure out of the situation, to hurt the story just where it hurts most: at the point of build-up.

Here was the original plan:

Menzies stands almost paralyzed with shock as Vargas moves out of the Hall of Records and we dissolve (from Menzies' stricken face) to the forlorn figure of the "night-man" in the motel. Vargas's car stops and he appears. Where is his wife?... Where, indeed?... Our fears fly ahead of him as he struggles to communicate with Weaver. The exchange is painful: in a spooky sort of way, even a little crazy. Slowly Vargas himself begins to realize that this man he's talking to is crazy, or something very close to it... Out of hesitation - out of odd, anxious blank moments - a hint of some nameless enormity grows like smoke in the dark room... As the kids would put it, this is a real "gone" scene... The "nightman" is "way, way out there." ...Conscious as ever of the need for careful politeness in this foreign country, Vargas presses on with his questions... Suddenly, out of the murk, the reference to some sort of "party" drops like a heavy stone.

That's the way the scene was shot. As it is now, Vargas appears, asks for his wife, gets one fumbling reply and then, abruptly, without any feeling of chill, we're faced with that word "Party." The cut outside comes very quickly - there's no time given us to let our questions about what's happened to Susan grow or take on strange, distorted shapes. Now, before we know it, Weaver and Vargas are bustling off to the bedroom.

[This change was not made in the release version, but was restored for the preview version and the '98 re-edit].

I must assume that the missing lines by Weaver in Susan's bedroom are due to the temporary condition of the soundtrack. It would be the greatest mistake to cut out the references to the smell of reefers. There's no issue of censorship here, since marijuana has not actually been used. Weaver is batting about in the dark room like some sort of night bird, flinging open windows, and there is simply no sense to his behavior unless he's trying to get fresh air. His dialogue must be retained. This, incidentally works in counterpoint with Vargas's search for his revolver, some of which also seems to be missing. This used to be a most effective moment and is now quite flat. There's no need for it to remain that way.

[Weaver has no dialogue referring to the smell of reefers in any version, but he does pick up and smell a stub which quite obviously is marijuana].

There seems to be a different choice of angles now used in the last scene between Vargas and Weaver. I wonder is this to give Mr. Heston the best of it? (I suggest you ask Mr. Heston about that!) Perhaps, there is a cut in dialogue which caused this. Anyway, this brief scene has lost a great deal of vitality.

I'd like to congratulate whoever edited the street scene in which Vargas drives into the traffic jam, fails to hear Susan, and continues across the international boundary. The cutting here is not only superior to what it was at the stage when I left it, but actually better than the effect I'd been hoping for.

In the fight scene, the footage of the crowd running past Vargas and out the door is now too extended. I'm not sure that the inter-cut of the reverse angle in the next room is indicated. There are several ways of getting at this, but it's quite important that Schwartz get into the scene a little quicker than he does. Otherwise, there is a bad moment where Vargas is left too obviously with nothing but egg on his face.

The extremely tight shot of Vargas speaking the line "...murder..." has now been trimmed to the point of being merely jerky and abrupt. I particularly regret the decision to cut away from this scene before the effect of going out of focus. I ask that this trim be reconsidered, bearing in mind that the out-of-focus device assists the violent transition to the interior of the jail, and at the same time, expresses the frenzy of Vargas's feelings at this moment, and his virtual disintegration. The frames have to be carefully picked for this, because the lens itself had to be removed at the end of the out-of-focus effect, and at that moment, of course, the screen goes white. My idea was to dissolve very quickly during the out-of-focus action into the darkness of the jail door, finishing the dissolve as the door opens.

[This was restored in all three versions].

I appreciate the thinking that went into the extended use of close-ups of Menzies during the cell scene between Vargas and Susan, but there are definitely too many of these close-ups. Not only should one of these be cut, but the intercutting between Menzies's face and Susan's bed can be much more smoothly worked out.

Mr. Heston reports that the cutting of the second half of his scene with Menzies (on the porch opposite