Official Site: Me and Orson Welles
I suppose it is the grandest of compliments to the UK-born Christian McKay to say that while watching the actor in Richard Linklater's pseudo-sideways-biopic Me and Orson Welles, I was so enthralled with his performance that I forgot altogether that I was watching McKay, and instead truly believed I was watching the real flesh-and-blood Orson Welles up there on the screen. McKay (who, by the way, is making his feature debut after years on the stage) has Welles’ look, voice, and mannerisms down stone cold—right down to the iconic director/actor's snarky smirk of self-satisfaction. Watching McKay, one no longer sees the actor, only the man he is portraying. In McKay's said portrayal of the great and powerful Welles, we are given the most dead-on impersonation one is likely to see in many a year. And it is in this central, though not lead, performance that the proverbial heart and soul of Linklater's film lies.
Unfortunately, outside of McKay's brilliant mimicry, Me and Orson Welles is not one of the filmmaker's stronger outputs. Zac Efron, trying desperately to shed his High School Musical roots (just as, a generation ago, Johnny Depp laid his own teeny-bopper past to rest for good), is fine in the role of the titular "Me," and Claire Danes is equally sufficient as the requisite love interest and third point in the inevitable tug-o-war love triangle. Perhaps though, when sharing the stage with McKay (or Welles for that matter), adjectives like fine or sufficient just don't cut the proverbial thespianic mustard. Outshone, outfoxed, and upstaged, this film belongs to McKay and his pitch-perfect take on the late great wunderkind-turned-auteur, Welles. Maybe one cannot truly judge McKay until they have seen him take on other roles (perhaps he is more mimic and less actor?), but just judging from his performance here (and he does play Brutus in the play-within-a-movie rendition of Julius Caesar with equal amounts of chutzpah), McKay, more than merely acting in this picture, owns this picture.
This bravura bally-hoo of a show-stopping performance also leaves our intrepid director in the proverbial dust as well, but then again, this is not your typical Richard Linklater film. With such works, ranging from acerbic to eclectic to downright esoteric, as his debut experimentation Slacker, his Before Sunrise/Sunset talkies and his homage-laden masterpiece Dazed & Confused, this film never even pretends to reach those heights. Sure, we are given a certain level of cinematographic prowess (as one would expect from such an auteur) and, in keeping with earlier huzzahs, an extraordinary performance from McKay, but in the end, Me and Orson Welles can sit comfortably alongside the inexplicably well-received mediocrity that was School of Rock and the unexplainable, and completely unnecessary remake of The Bad News Bears. Okay, perhaps it sits a bit above those films due to McKay (I just can’t stop mentioning him!) and his Welles, but in the grand scheme of things, this is Linklater light.
Kevyn Knox is a film historian and critic. His reviews can be read at www.thecinematheque.com. He is a regular contributor to Film International and Plume-Noire and is the regular film columnist for a local alternative monthly called The Burg. He is also the cinema director of Midtown Cinema in his hometown of Harrisburg, PA, and has sat upon the jury of the Harrisburg Film Festival every year since 2004. He is currently working on his first book, tentatively titled, Wild Bill: The Life, Times & Films of William A. Wellman.