Herman J. Mankiewicz
EXT. XANADU - FAINT DAWN - 1940 (MINIATURE)
Window, very small in the distance, illuminated.
All around this is an almost totally black screen. Now, as the camera moves slowly towards the window which is almost a postage stamp in the frame, other forms appear; barbed wire, cyclone fencing, and now, looming up against an early morning sky, enormous iron grille work. Camera travels up what is now shown to be a gateway of gigantic proportions and holds on the top of it - a huge initial "K" showing darker and darker against the dawn sky. Through this and beyond we see the fairy-tale mountaintop of Xanadu, the great castle a sillhouette as its summit, the little window a distant accent in the darkness.
(A SERIES OF SET-UPS, EACH CLOSER TO THE GREAT WINDOW, ALL TELLING SOMETHING OF:)
The literally incredible domain of CHARLES FOSTER KANE.
Its right flank resting for nearly forty miles on the Gulf Coast, it truly extends in all directions farther than the eye can see. Designed by nature to be almost completely bare and flat - it was, as will develop, practically all marshland when Kane acquired and changed its face - it is now pleasantly uneven, with its fair share of rolling hills and one very good-sized mountain, all man-made. Almost all the land is improved, either through cultivation for farming purposes of through careful landscaping, in the shape of parks and lakes. The castle dominates itself, an enormous pile, compounded of several genuine castles, of European origin, of varying architecture - dominates the scene, from the very peak of the mountain.
GOLF LINKS (MINIATURE)
Past which we move. The greens are straggly and overgrown, the fairways wild with tropical weeds, the links unused and not seriously tended for a long time.
WHAT WAS ONCE A GOOD-SIZED ZOO (MINIATURE)
Of the Hagenbeck type. All that now remains, with one exception, are the individual plots, surrounded by moats, on which the animals are kept, free and yet safe from each other and the landscape at large. (Signs on several of the plots indicate that here there were once tigers, lions, girrafes.)
THE MONKEY TERRACE (MINIATURE)
In the foreground, a great obscene ape is outlined against the dawn murk. He is scratching himself slowly, thoughtfully, looking out across the estates of Charles Foster Kane, to the distant light glowing in the castle on the hill.
THE ALLIGATOR PIT (MINIATURE)
The idiot pile of sleepy dragons. Reflected in the muddy water - the lighted window.
THE LAGOON (MINIATURE)
The boat landing sags. An old newspaper floats on the surface of the water - a copy of the New York Enquirer." As it moves across the frame, it discloses again the reflection of the window in the castle, closer than before.
THE GREAT SWIMMING POOL (MINIATURE)
It is empty. A newspaper blows across the cracked floor of the tank.
THE COTTAGES (MINIATURE)
In the shadows, literally the shadows, of the castle. As we move by, we see that their doors and windows are boarded up and locked, with heavy bars as further protection and sealing.
A DRAWBRIDGE (MINIATURE)
Over a wide moat, now stagnant and choked with weeds. We move across it and through a huge solid gateway into a formal garden, perhaps thirty yards wide and one hundred yards deep, which extends right up to the very wall of the castle. The landscaping surrounding it has been sloppy and causal for a long time, but this particular garden has been kept up in perfect shape. As the camera makes its way through it, towards the lighted window of the castle, there are revealed rare and exotic blooms of all kinds. The dominating note is one of almost exaggerated tropical lushness, hanging limp and despairing. Moss, moss, moss. Ankor Wat, the night the last King died.
THE WINDOW (MINIATURE)
Camera moves in until the frame of the window fills the frame of the screen. Suddenly, the light within goes out. This stops the action of the camera and cuts the music which has been accompanying the sequence. In the glass panes of the window, we see reflected the ripe, dreary landscape of Mr. Kane's estate behind and the dawn sky.
INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940
A very long shot of Kane's enormous bed, silhouetted against the enormous window.
INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940
A snow scene. An incredible one. Big, impossible flakes of snow, a too picturesque farmhouse and a snow man. The jingling of sleigh bells in the musical score now makes an ironic reference to Indian Temple bells - the music freezes -
KANE'S OLD OLD
The camera pulls back, showing the whole scene to be contained in one of those glass balls which are sold in novelty stores all over the world. A hand - Kane's hand, which has been holding the ball, relaxes. The ball falls out of his hand and bounds down two carpeted steps leading to the bed, the camera following. The ball falls off the last step onto the marble floor where it breaks, the fragments glittering in the first rays of the morning sun. This ray cuts an angular pattern across the floor, suddenly crossed with a thousand bars of light as the blinds are pulled across the window.
The foot of Kane's bed. The camera very close. Outlined against the shuttered window, we can see a form - the form of a nurse, as she pulls the sheet up over his head. The camera follows this action up the length of the bed and arrives at the face after the sheet has covered it.
INT. OF A MOTION PICTURE PROJECTION ROOM
On the screen as the camera moves in are the words:
Stirring, brassy music is heard on the soundtrack (which, of course, sounds more like a soundtrack than ours.)
The screen in the projection room fills our screen as the second title appears:
NOTE: Here follows a typical news digest short, one of the regular monthly or bi-monthly features, based on public events or personalities. These are distinguished from ordinary newsreels and short subjects in that they have a fully developed editorial or storyline. Some of the more obvious characteristics of the "March of Time," for example, as well as other documentary shorts, will be combined to give an authentic impression of this now familiar type of short subject. As is the accepted procedure in these short subjects, a narrator is used as well as explanatory titles.
Legendary was the Xanadu where Kubla
Kahn decreed his stately pleasure
(with quotes in his voice)
"Where twice five miles of fertile
ground, with walls and towers were
(dropping the quotes)
Today, almost as legendary is Florida's
XANADU - world's largest private
pleasure ground. Here, on the deserts
of the Gulf Coast, a private mountain
was commissioned, successfully built
for its landlord. Here in a private
valley, as in the Coleridge poem,
"blossoms many an incense-bearing tree."
Verily, "a miracle of rare device."
CHARLES FOSTER KANE
Opening shot of great desolate expanse of Florida coastline (1940 - DAY)
Series of shots showing various aspects of Xanadu, all as they might be photographed by an ordinary newsreel cameraman - nicely photographed, but not atmospheric to the extreme extent of the Prologue (1940).
(dropping the quotes)
Here, for Xanadu's landlord, will be
held 1940's biggest, strangest funeral;
here this week is laid to rest a potent
figure of our Century - America's Kubla
Kahn - Charles Foster Kane.
In journalism's history, other names
are honored more than Charles Foster
Kane's, more justly revered. Among
publishers, second only to James Gordon
Bennet the First: his dashing, expatriate
son; England's Northcliffe and Beaverbrook;
Chicago's Patterson and McCormick;
TO FORTY-FOUR MILLION U.S. NEWS BUYERS, MORE NEWSWORTHY THAN THE NAMES IN HIS OWN HEADLINES, WAS KANE HIMSELF, GREATEST NEWSPAPER TYCOON OF THIS OR ANY OTHER GENERATION.
Shot of a huge, screen-filling picture of Kane. Pull back to show that it is a picture on the front page of the "Enquirer," surrounded by the reversed rules of mourning, with masthead and headlines. (1940)
A great number of headlines, set in different types and different styles, obviously from different papers, all announcing Kane's death, all appearing over photographs of Kane himself (perhaps a fifth of the headlines are in foreign languages). An important item in connection with the headlines is that many of them - positively not all - reveal passionately conflicting opinions about Kane. Thus, they contain variously the words "patriot," "democrat," "pacifist," "war-monger," "traitor," "idealist," "American," etc.
1895 TO 1940 - ALL OF THESE YEARS HE COVERED, MANY OF THESE YEARS HE WAS.
Newsreel shots of San Francisco during and after the fire, followed by shots of special trains with large streamers: "Kane Relief Organization." Over these shots superimpose the date - 1906.
Artist's painting of Foch's railroad car and peace negotiators, if actual newsreel shot unavailable. Over this shot sumperimpose the date - 1918.
Denver's Bonfils and Sommes; New York's
late, great Joseph Pulitzer; America's
emperor of the news syndicate, another
editorialist and landlord, the still
mighty and once mightier Hearst. Great
names all of them - but none of them so
loved, hated, feared, so often spoken -
as Charles Foster Kane.
The San Francisco earthquake. First with
the news were the Kane papers. First with
Relief of the Sufferers, First with the
news of their Relief of the Sufferers.
Kane papers scoop the world on the
Armistice - publish, eight hours before
competitors, complete details of the
Armistice teams granted the Germans by
Marshall Foch from his railroad car in the
Forest of Compeigne.
For forty years appeared in Kane newsprint
no public issue on which Kane papers took
No public man whom Kane himself did not
support or denounce - often support, then
Its humble beginnings, a dying dailey -
Shots with the date - 1898 (to be supplied)
Shots with the date - 1910 (to be supplied)
Shots with the date - 1922 (to be supplied)
Headlines, cartoons, contemporary newreels or stills of the following:
1. WOMAN SUFFRAGE
The celebrated newsreel shot of about 1914.
Breaking up of a speakeasy and such.
4. LABOR RIOTS
Brief clips of old newreel shots of William Jennings Bryan, Theodore Roosevelt, Stalin, Walter P. Thatcher, Al Smith, McKinley, Landon, Franklin D. Roosevelt and such. Also, recent newsreels of the elderly Kane with such Nazis as Hitler and Goering; and England's Chamberlain and Churchill.
Shot of a ramshackle building with old-fashioned presses showing through plate glass windows and the name "Enquirer" in old-fashioned gold letters. (1892)
Kane's empire, in its glory, held
dominion over thirty-seven newpapers,
thirteen magazines, a radio network.
An empire upon an empire. The first
of grocery stores, paper mills,
apartment buildings, factories, forests,
An empire through which for fifty years
flowed, in an unending stream, the wealth
of the earth's third richest gold mine...
Famed in American legend is the origin
of the Kane fortune... How, to boarding
housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting
boarder, in 1868 was left the supposedly
worthless deed to an abandoned mine shaft:
The Colorado Lode.
The magnificent Enquirer Building of today.
1891-1911 - a map of the USA, covering the entire screen, which in animated diagram shows the Kane publications spreading from city to city. Starting from New York, minature newboys speed madly to Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington, Atlanta, El Paso, etc., screaming "Wuxtry, Kane Papers, Wuxtry."
Shot of a large mine going full blast, chimneys belching smoke, trains moving in and out, etc. A large sign reads "Colorado Lode Mining Co." (1940) Sign reading; "Little Salem, CO - 25 MILES."
An old still shot of Little Salem as it was 70 years ago (identified by copper-plate caption beneath the still). (1870)
Shot of early tintype stills of Thomas Foster Kane and his wife, Mary, on their wedding day. A similar picture of Mary Kane some four or five years later with her little boy, Charles Foster Kane.
Fifty-seven years later, before a
Congressional Investigation, Walter P.
Thatcher, grand old man of Wall Street,
for years chief target of Kane papers'
attack on "trusts," recalls a journey
he made as a youth...
Shot of Capitol, in Washington D.C.
Shot of Congressional Investigating Committee (reproduction of existing J.P. Morgan newsreel). This runs silent under narration. Walter P. Thatcher is on the stand. He is flanked by his son, Walter P. Thatcher Jr., and other partners. He is being questioned by some Merry Andrew congressmen. At this moment, a baby alligator has just been placed in his lap, causing considerable confusion and embarrassment.
Newsreel close-up of Thatcher, the soundtrack of which now fades in.
... because of that trivial incident...
It is a fact, however, is it not, that
in 1870, you did go to Colorado?
In connection with the Kane affairs?
Yes. My firm had been appointed
trustees by Mrs. Kane for the fortune,
which she had recently acquired. It
was her wish that I should take charge
of this boy, Charles Foster Kane.
That same month in Union Square -
Is it not a fact that on that occasion,
the boy personally attacked you after
striking you in the stomach with a sled?
Loud laughter and confusion.
Mr. Chairman, I will read to this
committee a prepared statement I have
brought with me - and I will then refuse
to answer any further questions. Mr.
A young assistant hands him a sheet of paper from a briefcase.
"With full awareness of the meaning of
my words and the responsibility of what
I am about to say, it is my considered
belief that Mr. Charles Foster Kane, in
every essence of his social beliefs and
by the dangerous manner in which he has
persistently attacked the American
traditions of private property, initiative
and opportunity for advancement, is - in
fact - nothing more or less than a
Newsreel of Union Square meeting, section of crowd carrying banners urging the boycott of Kane papers. A speaker is on the platform above the crowd.
(fading in on soundtrack)
- till the words "Charles Foster Kane"
are a menace to every working man in
this land. He is today what he has
always been and always will be - A
And yet another opinion - Kane's own.
Silent newsreel on a windy platform, flag-draped, in front of the magnificent Enquirer building. On platform, in full ceremonial dress, is Charles Foster Kane. He orates silently.
"I AM, HAVE BEEN, AND WILL BE ONLY ONE THING - AN AMERICAN." CHARLES FOSTER KANE.
Same locale, Kane shaking hands out of frame.
Another newsreel shot, much later, very brief, showing Kane, older and much fatter, very tired-looking, seated with his second wife in a nightclub. He looks lonely and unhappy in the midst of the gaiety.
Twice married, twice divorced - first
to a president's niece, Emily Norton -
today, by her second marriage, chatelaine
of the oldest of England's stately homes.
Sixteen years after that - two weeks after
his divorce from Emily Norton - Kane
married Susan Alexander, singer, at the
Town Hall in Trenton, New Jersey.
FEW PRIVATE LIVES WERE MORE PUBLIC.
Period still of Emily Norton (1900).
Reconstructed silent newsreel. Kane, Susan, and Bernstein emerging from side doorway of City Hall into a ring of press photographers, reporters, etc. Kane looks startled, recoils for an instance, then charges down upon the photographers, laying about him with his stick, smashing whatever he can hit.
For wife two, one-time opera singing
Susan Alexander, Kane built Chicago's
Municipal Opera House. Cost: three
million dollars. Conceived for Susan
Alexander Kane, half-finished before
she divorced him, the still unfinished
Xanadu. Cost: no man can say.
Still of architect's sketch with typically glorified "rendering" of the Chicago Municipal Opera House.
A glamorous shot of the almost-finished Xanadu, a magnificent fairy-tale estate built on a mountain. (1920)
Then shots of its preparation. (1917)
Shots of truck after truck, train after train, flashing by with tremendous noise.
Shots of vast dredges, steamshovels.
Shot of ship standing offshore unloading its lighters.
In quick succession, shots follow each other, some reconstructed, some in miniature, some real shots (maybe from the dam projects) of building, digging, pouring concrete, etc.
One hundred thousand trees, twenty
thousand tons of marble, are the
ingredients of Xanadu's mountain.
Xanadu's livestock: the fowl of the
air, the fish of the sea, the beast
of the field and jungle - two of each;
the biggest private zoo since Noah.
Contents of Kane's palace: paintings,
pictures, statues, the very stones of
many another palace, shipped to Florida
from every corner of the earth, from
other Kane houses, warehouses, where
they mouldered for years. Enough for
ten museums - the loot of the world.
More shots as before, only this time we see (in miniature) a large mountain - at different periods in its development - rising out of the sands.
Shots of elephants, apes, zebras, etc. being herded, unloaded, shipped, etc. in various ways.
Shots of packing cases being unloaded from ships, from trains, from trucks, with various kinds of lettering on them (Italian, Arabian, Chinese, etc.) but all consigned to Charles Foster Kane, Xanadu, Florida.
A reconstructed still of Xanadu - the main terrace. A group of persons in clothes of the period of 1917. In their midst, clearly recognizable, are Kane and Susan.
Kane urged his country's entry into
one war, opposed participation in
another. Swung the election to one
American President at least, was
called another's assassin. Thus,
Kane's papers might never have
survived - had not the President.
FROM XANADU, FOR THE PAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, ALL KANE ENTERPRISES HAVE BEEN DIRECTED, MANY OF THE NATIONS DESTINIES SHAPED.
Shots of various authentically worded headlines of American papers since 1895.
Spanish-American War shots. (1898)
A graveyard in France of the World War and hundreds of crosses. (1919)
Old newsreels of a political campaign.
Insert of a particularly virulent headline and/or cartoon.
HEADLINE: "PRESIDENT SHOT"
Kane, molder of mass opinion though he
was, in all his life was never granted
elective office by the voters of his
Few U.S. news publishers have been.
Few, like one-time Congressman Hearst,
have ever run for any office - most know
better - conclude with other political
observers that one man's press has power
enough for himself. But Kane papers were
once strong indeed, and once the prize
seemed almost his. In 1910, as Independent
Candidate for governor, the best elements
of the state behind him - the White House
seemingly the next easy step in a lightning
political career -
Night shot of crowd burning Charles Foster Kane in effigy. The dummy bears a grotesque, comic resemblance to Kane. It is tossed into the flames, which burn up -
- and then down... (1910)
IN POLITICS - ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A BRIDE
Newsreel shots of great crowds streaming into a building - Madison Square Garden - then shots inside the vast auditorium, at one end of which is a huge picture of Kane. (1910)
Shot of box containing the first Mrs. Kane and young Howard Kane, age five. They are acknowledging the cheers of the crowd. (Silent Shot) (1910)
Newreel shot of dignitaries on platform, with Kane, alongside of speaker's table, beaming, hand upraised to silence the crowd. (Silent Shot) (1910)
Then, suddenly - less than one week
before election - defeat! Shameful,
ignominious - defeat that set back
for twenty years the cause of reform
in the U.S., forever cancelled political
chances for Charles Foster Kane.
Then, in the third year of the Great
Depression... As to all publishers, it
sometimes must - to Bennett, to Munsey
and Hearst it did - a paper closes! For
Kane, in four short years: collapse!
Eleven Kane papers, four Kane magazines
merged, more sold, scrapped -
Newreel shot - closeup of Kane delivering a speech... (1910)
The front page of a contemporary paper - a screaming headline. Twin phots of Kane and Susan. (1910)
Printed title about Depression.
Once more repeat the map of the USA 1932-1939. Suddenly, the cartoon goes into reverse, the empire begins to shrink, illustrating the narrator's words.
The door of a newspaper office with the signs: "Closed."
Then four long years more - alone in
his never-finished, already decaying,
pleasure palace, aloof, seldom visited,
never photographed, Charles Foster Kane
continued to direct his falling empire
... vainly attempting to sway, as he
once did, the destinies of a nation that
has ceased to listen to him ... ceased
to trust him...
Shots of Xanadu. (1940)
Series of shots, entirely modern, but rather jumpy and obviously bootlegged, showing Kane in a bath chair, swathed in summer rugs, being perambulated through his rose garden, a desolate figure in the sunshine. (1935)
Last week, death came to sit upon the
throne of America's Kubla Khan - last
week, as it must to all men, death came
to Charles Foster Kane.
Cabinent Photograph (Full Screen) of Kane as an old, old man. This image remains constant on the screen (as camera pulls back, taking in the interior of a dark projection room.
INT. PROJECTION ROOM - DAY - 1940
A fairly large one, with a long throw to the screen. It is dark.
The image of Kane as an old man remains constant on the screen as camera pulls back, slowly taking in and registering Projection Room. This action occurs, however, only after the first few lines of encuring dialogue have been spoken. The shadows of the men speaking appear as they rise from their chairs - black against the image of Kane's face on the screen.
NOTE: These are the editors of a "News Digest" short, and of the Rawlston magazines. All his enterprises are represented in the projection room, and Rawlston himself, that great man, is present also and will shortly speak up.
During the entire course of this scene, nobody's face is really seen. Sections of their bodies are picked out by a table light, a silhouette is thrown on the screen, and their faces and bodies are themselves thrown into silhouette against the brilliant slanting rays of light from the projection room.
A Third Man is on the telephone. We see a corner of his head and the phone.
Stand by. I'll tell you if we want
to run it again.
A short pause.
A MAN'S VOICE
It's a tough thing to do in a newsreel.
Seventy years of a man's life -
Murmur of highly salaried assent at this. Rawlston walks toward camera and out of the picture. Others are rising. Camera during all of this, apparently does its best to follow action and pick up faces, but fails. Actually, all set-ups are to be planned very carefully to exclude the element of personality from this scene; which is expressed entirely by voices, shadows, sillhouettes and the big, bright image of Kane himself on the screen.
See what Arthur Ellis wrote about him
in the American review?
I read it.
(its owner is already leaning
across the table, holding a
piece of paper under the desk
light and reading from it)
Listen: Kane is dead. He contributed
to the journalism of his day - the
talent of a mountebank, the morals of a
bootlegger, and the manners of a pasha.
He and his kind have almost succeeded in
transforming a once noble profession into
a seven percent security - no longer secure.
That's what Arthur Ellis is writing now.
Thirty years ago, when Kane gave him his
chance to clean up Detroit and Chicago and
St. Louis, Kane was the greatest guy in the
world. If you ask me -
Charles Foster Kane was a...
Then observations are made almost simultaneous.
Just a minute!
Camera moves to take in his bulk outlined against the glow from the projection room.
What were Kane's last words?
A silence greets this.
What were the last words he said on
earth? Thompson, you've made us a
good short, but it needs character -
That's it - motivation. What made Kane
what he was? And, for that matter, what
was he? What we've just seen are the
outlines of a career - what's behind the
career? What's the man? Was he good or
bad? Strong or foolish? Tragic or silly?
Why did he do all those things? What was
(then, appreciating his point)
Maybe he told us on his death bed.
Yes, and maybe he didn't.
Ask the question anyway, Thompson!
Build the picture around the question,
even if you can't answer it.
I know, but -
(riding over him like any
All we saw on that screen was a big
One of the biggest.
(without pausing for this)
But how is he different from Ford?
Or Hearst for that matter? Or
Rockefeller - or John Doe?
I know people worked for Kane will tell
you - not only in the newspaper business
- look how he raised salaries. You don't
want to forget -
You take his labor record alone, they
ought to hang him up like a dog.
I tell you, Thompson - a man's dying
What were they?
Yes, Mr. Rawlston, what were Kane's
A little ripple of laughter at this, which is promptly silenced by Rawlston.
Tough guy, huh?
Dies calling for Rosebud!
Here's a man who might have been
President. He's been loved and
hated and talked about as much as
any man in our time - but when he
comes to die, he's got something on
his mind called "Rosebud." What
does that mean?
A racehorse he bet on once, probably,
that didn't come in - Rosebud!
All right. But what was the race?
There is a short silence.
Hold this thing up for a week. Two
weeks if you have to...
But don't you think if we release it
now - he's only been dead four days
- it might be better than if -
Nothing is ever better than finding
out what makes people tick. Go after
the people that knew Kane well. That
manager of his - the little guy,
Bernstein, those two wives, all the
people who knew him, had worked for
him, who loved him, who hated his guts -
I don't mean go through the City
Directory, of course -
The Third Man gives a hearty "yes-man" laugh.
I'll get to it right away, Mr.
The camera from behind him, outlines his back against Kane's picture on the screen.
It'll probably turn out to be a very
NOTE: Now begins the story proper - the seach by Thompson for the facts about Kane - his researches ... his interviews with the people who knew Kane.
It is important to remember always that only at the very end of the story is Thompson himself a personality. Until then, throughout the picture, we photograph only Thompson's back, shoulders, or his shadow - sometimes we only record his voice. He is not until the final scene a "character". He is the personification of the search for the truth about Charles Foster Kane. He is the investigator.
EXT. CHEAP CABARET - "EL RANCHO" - ATLANTIC CITY - NIGHT - 1940 (MINIATURE) - RAIN
The first image to register is a sign:
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
These words, spelled out in neon, glow out of the darkness at the end of the fade out. Then there is lightning which reveals a squalid roof-top on which the sign stands. Thunder again, and faintly the sound of music from within. A light glows from a skylight. The camera moves to this and closes in. Through the splashes of rain, we see through the skylight down into the interior of the cabaret. Directly below us at a table sits the lone figure of a woman, drinking by herself.
INT. "EL RANCO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940
Medium shot of the same woman as before, finishing the drink she started to take above. It is Susie. The music, of course, is now very loud. Thompson, his back to the camera, moves into the picture in the close foreground. A Captain appears behind Susie, speaking across her to Thompson.
This is Mr. Thompson, Miss Alexander.
Susan looks up into Thompson's face. She is fifty, trying to look much younger, cheaply blonded, in a cheap, enormously generous evening dress. Blinking up into Thompson's face, she throws a crink into ther mouth. Her eyes, which she thinks is keeping commandingly on his, are bleared and watery.
(to the Captain)
I want another drink, John.
Low thunder from outside.
(seeing his chance)
Right away. Will you have something,
(staring to sit down)
I'll have a highball.
(so insistently as to make
Thompson change his mind
and stand up again)
Who told you you could sit down here?
Oh! I thought maybe we could have
a drink together?
There is an awkward pause as Thompson looks from her to the Captain.
Why don't you people let me alone?
I'm minding my own business. You
If you'd just let me talk to you
for a little while, Miss Alexander.
All I want to ask you...
Get out of here!
Get out! Get out!
Thompson looks at the Captain, who shrugs his shoulders.
I'm sorry. Maybe some other time -
If he thought he would get a response from Susan, who thinks she is looking at him steelily, he realizes his error. He nods and walks off, following the Captain out the door.
She's just not talking to anybody
from the newspapers, Mr. Thompson.
I'm not from a newspaper exactly, I -
They have come upon a waiter standing in front of a booth.
(to the waiter)
Get her another highball.
(after a moment, pityingly)
They walk to the door.
She's plastered, isn't she?
She'll snap out of it. Why, until he
died, she'd just as soon talk about
Mr. Kane as about anybody. Sooner.
I'll come down in a week or so and
see her again. Say, you might be able
to help me. When she used to talk
about Kane - did she ever happen to say
anything - about Rosebud?
Thompson has just handed him a bill. The Captain pockets it.
Thank you, sir. As a matter of fact,
yesterday afternoon, when it was in
all the papers - I asked her. She
never heard of Rosebud.
INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940
An excruciatingly noble interpretation of Mr. Thatcher himself executed in expensive marble. He is shown seated on one of those improbable Edwin Booth chairs and is looking down, his stone eyes fixed on the camera.
We move down off of this, showing the impressive pedestal on which the monument is founded. The words, "Walter Parks Thatcher" are prominently and elegantly engraved thereon. Immediately below the inscription we encounter, in a medium shot, the person of Bertha Anderson, an elderly, manish spinnster, seated behind her desk. Thompson, his hat in his hand, is standing before her. Bertha is on the phone.
Yes. I'll take him in now.
(hangs up and looks at
The directors of the Thatcher Library
have asked me to remind you again of
the condition under which you may
inspect certain portions of Mr.
Thatcher's unpublished memoirs. Under
no circumstances are direct quotations
from his manuscript to be used by you.
That's all right.
You may come with me.
Without watching whether he is following her or not, she rises and starts towards a distant and imposingly framed door. Thompson, with a bit of a sigh, follows.
INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940
A room with all the warmth and charm of Napolean's tomb.
As we dissolve in, the door opens in and we see past Thompson's shoulders the length of the room. Everything very plain, very much made out of marble and very gloomy. Illumination from a skylight above adds to the general air of expensive and classical despair. The floor is marble, and there is a gigantic, mahogany table in the center of everything. Beyond this is to be seen, sunk in the marble wall at the far end of the room, the safe from which a guard, in a khaki uniform, with a revolver holster at his hip, is extracting the journal of Walter P. Thatcher. He brings it to Bertha as if he were the guardian of a bullion shipment. During this, Bertha has been speaking.
(to the guard)
Pages eighty-three to one hundred
and forty-two, Jennings.
Yes, Miss Anderson.
You will confine yourself, it is our
understanding, to the chapter dealing
with Mr. Kane.
That's all I'm interested in.
The guard has, by this time, delivered the precious journal. Bertha places it reverently on the table before Thompson.
You will be required to leave this
room at four-thirty promptly.
She leaves. Thompson starts to light a cigarette. The guard shakes his head. With a sigh, Thompson bends over to read the manuscript. Camera moves down over his shoulder onto page of manuscript.
Manuscript, neatly and precisely written:
"CHARLES FOSTER KANE
WHEN THESE LINES APPEAR IN PRINT, FIFTY YEARS AFTER MY DEATH, I AM CONFIDENT THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WILL AGREE WITH MY OPINION OF CHARLES FOSTER KANE, ASSUMING THAT HE IS NOT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN, WHICH I REGARD AS EXTREMELY LIKELY. A GOOD DEAL OF NONSENSE HAS APPEARED ABOUT MY FIRST MEETING WITH KANE, WHEN HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD... THE FACTS ARE SIMPLE. IN THE WINTER OF 1870..."
The camera has not held on the entire page. It has been following the words with the same action that the eye does the reading. On the last words, the white page of the paper
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
The white of a great field of snow, seen from the angle of a parlor window.
In the same position of the last word in above Insert, appears the tiny figure of Charles Foster Kane, aged five (almost like an animated cartoon). He is in the act of throwing a snowball at the camera. It sails toward us and over our heads, out of scene.
Reverse angle - on the house featuring a large sign reading:
MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE
HIGH CLASS MEALS AND LODGING
Charles Kane's snowball hits the sign.
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Camera is angling through the window, but the window-frame is not cut into scene. We see only the field of snow again, same angle as in previous scene. Charles is manufacturing another snowball. Now -
Camera pulls back, the frame of the window appearing, and we are inside the parlor of the boardinghouse. Mrs. Kane, aged about 28, is looking out towards her son. Just as we take her in she speaks:
Be careful, Charles!
Mrs. Kane -
(calling out the window
almost on top of this)
Pull your muffler around your neck,
But Charles, deliriously happy in the snow, is oblivious to this and is running away. Mrs. Kane turns into camera and we see her face - a strong face, worn and kind.
I think we'll have to tell him now -
Camera now pulls back further, showing Thatcher standing before a table on which is his stove-pipe hat and an imposing multiplicity of official-looking documents. He is 26 and, as might be expected, a very stuffy young man, already very expensive and conservative looking, even in Colorado.
I'll sign those papers -
You people seem to forget that I'm
the boy's father.
At the sound of Kane Sr.'s voice, both have turned to him and the camera pulls back still further, taking him in.
Kane Sr., who is the assistant curator in a livery stable, has been groomed as elegantly as is likely for this meeting ever since daybreak.
From outside the window can be heard faintly the wild and cheerful cries of the boy, blissfully cavorting in the snow.
It's going to be done exactly the
way I've told Mr. Thatcher -
If I want to, I can go to court.
A father has a right to -
Mr. Kane, the certificates that Mr.
Graves left here are made out to Mrs.
Kane, in her name. Hers to do with
as she pleases -
Well, I don't hold with signing my
boy away to any bank as guardian
just because -
I want you to stop all this nonsense,
The Bank's decision in all matters
concerning his education, his place of
residence and similar subjects will be
(clears his throat)
The idea of a bank being the guardian -
Mrs. Kane has met his eye. Her triumph over him finds expression in his failure to finish his sentence.
(even more quietly)
I want you to stop all this nonsense,
We will assume full management of the
Colorado Lode - of which you, Mrs. Kane,
are the sole owner.
Kane Sr. opens his mouth once or twice, as if to say something, but chokes down his opinion.
(has been reading past
Thatcher's shoulder as he
Where do I sign, Mr. Thatcher?
Right here, Mrs. Kane.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen.
Mary, I'm asking you for the last
time - anyon'd think I hadn't been
a good husband and a -
Mrs. Kane looks at him slowly. He stops his speech.
The sum of fifty thousand dollars a
year is to be paid to yourself and
Mr. Kane as long as you both live,
and thereafter the survivor -
Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs.
Well, let's hope it's all for the best.
It is. Go on, Mr. Thatcher -
Mrs. Kane, listening to Thatcher, of course has had her other ear bent in the direction of the boy's voice. Thatcher is aware both of the boy's voice, which is counter to his own, and of Mrs. Kane's divided attention. As he pauses, Kane Sr. genteelly walks over to close the window.
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Jr., seen from Kane Sr.'s position at the window. He is advancing on the snowman, snowballs in his hands, dropping to one knee the better to confound his adversary.
If the rebels want a fight boys,
let's give it to 'em!
He throws two snowballs, missing widely, and gets up and advances another five feet before getting on his knees again.
The terms are underconditional
surrender. Up and at 'em! The
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Sr. closes the window.
(over the boy's voice)
Everything else - the principal as
well as all monies earned - is to be
administered by the bank in trust for
your son, Charles Foster Kane, until
his twenty-fifth birthday, at which
time he is to come into complete
Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window.
Go on, Mr. Thatcher.
Thatcher continues as she opens the window. His voice, as before, is heard with overtones of the boy's.
EXT. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane Jr., seen from Mrs. Kane's position at the window. He is now within ten feet of the snowman, with one snowball left which he is holding back in his right hand.
You can't lick Andy Jackson! Old
Hickory, that's me!
He fires his snowball, well wide of the mark and falls flat on his stomach, starting to crawl carefully toward the snowman.
It's nearly five, Mrs. Kane, don't
you think I'd better meet the boy -
INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Mrs. Kane at the window. Thatcher is now standing at her side.
I've got his trunk all packed -
(she chokes a little)
I've it packed for a couple of weeks -
She can't say anymore. She starts for the hall day. Kane Sr., ill at ease, has no idea of how to comfort her.
I've arranged for a tutor to meet
us in Chicago. I'd have brought
him along with me, but you were so
anxious to keep everything secret -
He stops as he realizes that Mrs. Kane has paid no attention to him and, having opened the door, is already well into the hall that leads to the side door of the house. He takes a look at Kane Sr., tightens his lips and follows Mrs. Kane. Kane, shoulders thrown back like one who bears defeat bravely, follows him.
EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870
Kane, in the snow-covered field. With the snowman between him and the house, he is holding the sled in his hand, just about to make the little run that prefaces a belly-flop. The Kane house, in the background, is a dilapidated, shabby, two-story frame building, with a wooden outhouse. Kane looks up as he sees the single file procession, Mrs. Kane at its head, coming toward him.
Mrs. Kane smiles.
(gesturing at the snowman)
See, Mom? I took the pipe out of
his mouth. If it keeps on snowin',
maybe I'll make some teeth and -
You better come inside, son. You
and I have got to get you all ready
for - for -
Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher -
This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles.
How do you do, Charles?
He comes from the east.
Hello. Hello, Pop.
Mr. Thatcher is going to take you on
a trip with him tonight, Charles.
You'll be leaving on Number Ten.
That's the train with all the lights.
You goin', Mom?
Your mother won't be going right away,
Where'm I going?
You're going to see Chicago and New
York - and Washington, maybe...
Isn't he, Mr. Thatcher?
He certainly is. I wish I were a
little boy and going to make a trip
like that for the first time.
Why aren't you comin' with us, Mom?
We have to stay here, Charles.
You're going to live with Mr. Thatcher
from now on, Charlie! You're going to
be rich. Your Ma figures - that is,
er - she and I have decided that this
isn't the place for you to grow up in.
You'll probably be the richest man in
America someday and you ought to -
You won't be lonely, Charles...
We're going to have a lot of good times
together, Charles... Really we are.
Kane stares at him.
Come on, Charles. Let's shake hands.
(extends his hand. Charles
continues to look at him)
Now, now! I'm not as frightening as
all that! Let's shake, what do you
He reaches out for Charles's hand. Without a word, Charles hits him in the stomach with the sled. Thatcher stumbles back a few feet, gasping.
(with a sickly grin)
You almost hurt me, Charles.
(moves towards him)
Sleds aren't to hit people with.
Sleds are to - to sleigh on. When
we get to New York, Charles, we'll
get you a sled that will -
He's near enough to try to put a hand on Kane's shoulder. As he does, Kane kicks him in the ankle.
He throws himself on her, his arms around her. Slowly Mrs. Kane puts her arms around him.
It's all right, Charles, it's all
Thatcher is looking on indignantly, occasionally bending over to rub his ankle.
Sorry, Mr. Thatcher! What the kid
needs is a good thrashing!
That's what you think, is it, Jim?
Mrs. Kane looks slowly at Mr. Kane.
That's why he's going to be brought
up where you can't get at him.
1870 - NIGHT (STOCK OR MINIATURE)
Old-fashioned railroad wheels underneath a sleeper, spinning along the track.
INT. TRAIN - OLD-FASHIONED DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT - 1870
Thatcher, with a look of mingled exasperation, annoyance, sympathy and inability to handle the situation, is standing alongside a berth, looking at Kane. Kane, his face in the pillow, is crying with heartbreaking sobs.
The white page of the Thatcher manuscript. We pick up the words:
"HE WAS, I REPEAT, A COMMON ADVENTURER, SPOILED, UNSCRUPULOUS, IRRESPONSIBLE."
The words are followed by printed headline on "Enquirer" copy (as in following scene).
INT. ENQUIRER CITY ROOM - DAY - 1898
Close-up on printed headline which reads:
"ENEMY ARMADA OFF JERSEY COAST"
Camera pulls back to reveal Thatcher holding the "Enquirer" copy, on which we read the headline. He is standing near the editorial round table around which a section of the staff, including Reilly, Leland and Kane are eating lunch.
Is that really your idea of how to
run a newspaper?
I don't know how to run a newspaper,
Mr. Thatcher. I just try everything
I can think of.
(reading headline of paper
he is still holding)
"Enemy Armada Off Jersey Coast." You
know you haven't the slightest proof
that this - this armada - is off the
Can you prove it isn't?
Bernstein has come into the picture. He has a cable in his hand. He stops when he sees Thatcher.
Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Thatcher -
How are you, Mr. Thatcher?
How do you do? -
We just had a wire from Cuba, Mr. Kane -
That's all right. We have no secrets
from our readers. Mr. Thatcher is
one of our most devoted readers, Mr.
Bernstein. He knows what's wrong with
every issue since I've taken charge.
What's the cable?
The food is marvelous in Cuba the
senoritas are beautiful stop I could
send you prose poems of palm trees and
sunrises and tropical colors blending in
far off landscapes but don't feel right
in spending your money for this stop
there's no war in Cuba regards Wheeler.
You see! There hasn't been a true word -
I think we'll have to send our friend
Wheeler a cable, Mr. Bernstein. Of
course, we'll have to make it shorter
than his, because he's working on an
expense account and we're not. Let
me see -
(snaps his fingers)
(a fairly tough customer
prepares to take dictation,
his mouth still full of food)
Go ahead, Mr. Kane.
Dear Wheeler -
(pauses a moment)
You provide the prose poems - I'll
provide the war.
Laughter from the boys and girls at the table.
That's fine, Mr. Kane.
I rather like it myself. Send it
Mike and Bernstein leave. Kane looks up, grinning at Thatcher, who is bursting with indignation but controls himself. After a moment of indecision, he decides to make one last try.
I came to see you, Charles, about
your - about the Enquirer's campaign
against the Metropolitan Transfer
Won't you step into my office, Mr.
They cross the City Room together.
I think I should remind you, Charles,
of a fact you seem to have forgotten.
You are yourself one of the largest
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - DAY - 1898
Kane holds the door open for Thatcher. They come in together.
Mr. Thatcher, isn't everything I've
been saying in the Enquirer about
the traction trust absolutely true?
They're all part of your general
attack - your senseless attack -
on everything and everybody who's
got more than ten cents in his pocket.
The trouble is, Mr. Thatcher, you
don't realize you're talking to
Kane moves around behind his desk. Thatcher doesn't understand, looks at him.
As Charles Foster Kane, who has eighty-two thousand, six hundred
and thirty-one shares of Metropolitan
Transfer - you see, I do have a rough
idea of my holdings - I sympathize
with you. Charles Foster Kane is a
dangerous scoundrel, his paper should
be run out of town and a committee
should be formed to boycott him. You
may, if you can form such a committee,
put me down for a contribution of one
Charles, my time is too valuable for
On the other hand -
(his manner becomes serious)
I am the publisher of the Enquirer.
As such, it is my duty - I'll let you
in on a little secret, it is also my
pleasure - to see to it that decent,
hard-working people of this city are
not robbed blind by a group of money-
mad pirates because, God help them,
they have no one to look after their
interests! I'll let you in on another
little secret, Mr. Thatcher. I think
I'm the man to do it. You see, I have
money and property -
Thatcher doesn't understand him.
If I don't defend the interests of
the underprivileged, somebody else
will - maybe somebody without any
money or any property and that would
be too bad.
Thatcher glares at him, unable to answer. Kane starts to dance.
Do you know how to tap, Mr. Thatcher?
You ought to learn -
(humming quietly, he
continues to dance)
Thatcher puts on his hat.
I happened to see your consolidated
statement yesterday, Charles. Could
I not suggest to you that it is
unwise for you to continue this
philanthropic enterprise -
this Enquirer - that is costing you
one million dollars a year?
You're right. We did lose a million
dollars last year.
Thatcher thinks maybe the point has registered.
We expect to lost a million next
year, too. You know, Mr. Thatcher -
(starts tapping quietly)
at the rate of a million a year -
we'll have to close this place in
INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY
Thompson - at the desk. With a gesture of annoyance, he is closing the manuscript.
Camera arcs quickly around from over his shoulder to hold on door behind him, missing his face as he rises and turns to confront Miss Anderson, who has come into the room to shoo him out. Very prominent on this wall is an over-sized oil painting of Thatcher in the best Union League Club renaissance style.
You have enjoyed a very rare
privilege, young man. Did you find
what you were looking for?
No. Tell me something, Miss Anderson.
You're not Rosebud, are you?
I didn't think you were. Well, thanks
for the use of the hall.
He puts his hat on his head and starts out, lighting a cigarette as he goes. Miss Anderson, scandalized, watches him.
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER SKYSCRAPER - DAY - 1940
Closeup of a still of Kane, aged about sixty-five. Camera pulls back, showing it is a framed photograph on the wall. Over the picture are crossed American flags. Under it sits Bernstein, back of his desk. Bernstein, always an undersized Jew, now seems even smaller than in his youth. He is bald as an egg, spry, with remarkably intense eyes. As camera continues to travel back, the back of Thompson's head and his shoulders come into the picture.
Who's a busy man? Me? I'm Chairman
of the Board. I got nothing but time
... What do you want to know?
Well, Mr. Bernstein, you were with Mr.
Kane from the very beginning -
From before the beginning, young fellow.
And now it's after the end.
(turns to Thompson)
Anything you want to know about him -
about the paper -
- We thought maybe, if we can find out
what he meant by that last word - as he
was dying -
That Rosebud? Maybe some girl? There
were a lot of them back in the early
days, and -
Not some girl he knew casually and
then remembered after fifty years,
on his death bed -
You're pretty young, Mr. -
(remembers the name)
Mr. Thompson. A fellow will remember
things you wouldn't think he'd remember.
You take me. One day, back in 1896, I
was crossing over to Jersey on a ferry
and as we pulled out, there was another
ferry pulling in -
- and on it, there was a girl waiting
to get off. A white dress she had on
- and she was carrying a white pastrol
- and I only saw her for one second and
she didn't see me at all - but I'll bet
a month hasn't gone by since that I
haven't thought of that girl.
See what I mean?
Well, so what are you doing about this
"Rosebud," Mr. Thompson.
I'm calling on people who knew Mr. Kane.
I'm calling on you.
Who else you been to see?
Well, I went down to Atlantic City -
Susie? I called her myself the day
after he died. I thought maybe
somebody ought to...
She couldn't even come to the 'phone.
You know why? She was so -
I'm going back there.
Who else did you see?
Nobody else, but I've been through
that stuff of Walter Thatcher's.
That journal of his -
Thatcher! That man was the biggest
darn fool I ever met -
He made an awful lot of money.
It's not trick to make an awful lot
of money if all you want is to make
a lot of money.
(his eyes get reflective)
Bernstein looks out of the window and keeps on looking, seeming to see something as he talks.
He never knew there was anything in
the world but money. That kind of
fellow you can fool every day in the
week - and twice on Sundays!
The time he came to Rome for Mr. Kane's
twenty-fifth birthday... You know,
when Mr. Kane got control of his own
money... Such a fool like Thatcher -
I tell you, nobody's business!
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940
Bernstein speaking to Thompson.
He knew what he wanted, Mr. Kane did,
and he got it! Thatcher never did
figure him out. He was hard to figure
sometimes, even for me. Mr. Kane was
a genius like he said. He had that
funny sense of humor. Sometimes even
I didn't get the joke. Like that night
the opera house of his opened in
Chicago... You know, the opera house
he built for Susie, she should be an
(indicates with a little wave
of his hand what he thinks of
That was years later, of course - 1914
it was. Mrs. Kane took the leading part
in the opera, and she was terrible. But
nobody had the nerve to say so - not even
the critics. Mr. Kane was a big man in
those days. But this one fellow, this
friend of his, Branford Leland -
He leaves the sentence up in the air, as we
INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
It is late. The room is almost empty. Nobody is at work at the desks. Bernstein, fifty, is waiting anxiously with a little group of Kane's hirelings, most of them in evening dress with overcoats and hats. Eveybody is tense and expectant.
(turns to a young hireling;
What about Branford Leland? Has he
got in his copy?
Go in and ask him to hurry.
Well, why don't you, Mr. Bernstein?
You know Mr. Leland.
(looks at him for a moment;
I might make him nervous.
(after a pause)
You and Leland and Mr. Kane - you were
great friends back in the old days, I
(with a smile)
That's right. They called us the
Somebody behind Bernstein has trouble concealing his laughter. The City Editor speaks quickly to cover the situation.
He's a great guy - Leland.
(another little pause)
Why'd he ever leave New York?
(he isn't saying)
That's a long story.
(a tactless one)
Wasn't there some sort of quarrel between -
I had nothing to do with it.
It was Leland and Mr. Kane, and you
couldn't call it a quarrel exactly.
Better we should forget such things -
(turning to City Editor)
Leland is writing it up from the dramatic
Yes. I thought it was a good idea.
We've covered it from the news end,
And the social. How about the music
notice? You got that in?
Oh, yes, it's already made up. Our
Mr. Mervin wrote a small review.
Well, well - isn't that nice?
Mr. Bernstein -
Medium long shot of Kane, now forty-nine, already quite stout. He is in white tie, wearing his overcoat and carrying a folded opera hat.
Hello, Mr. Kane.
The Hirelings rush, with Bernstein, to Kane's side. Widespread, half-suppressed sensation.
Mr. Kane, this is a surprise!
We've got a nice plant here.
Everybody falls silent. There isn't anything to say.
Was the show covered by every department?
Exactly according to your instructions,
Mr. Kane. We've got two spreads of
(very, very casually)
And the notice?
Yes - Mr. Kane.
Is it good?
Yes, Mr. kane.
Kane looks at him for a minute.
But there's another one still to come
- the dramatic notice.
It isn't finished?
No, Mr. Kane.
That's Leland, isn't it?
Yes, Mr. Kane.
Has he said when he'll finish?
We haven't heard from him.
He used to work fast - didn't he,
He sure did, Mr. Kane.
Where is he?
Right in there, Mr. Kane.
The Hireling indicates the closed glass door of a little office at the other end of the City Room. Kane takes it in.
(helpless, but very concerned)
Mr. Kane -
That's all right, Mr. Bernstein.
Kane crosses the length of the long City Room to the glass door indicated before by the Hireling. The City Editor looks at Bernstein. Kane opens the door and goes into the office, closing the door behind him.
Leland and Mr. Kane - they haven't
spoke together for ten years.
(long pause; finally)
(starts toward the door)
INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Bernstein comes in. An empty bottle is standing on Leland's desk. He has fallen over his typewriter, his face on the keys. A sheet of paper is in the machine. A paragraph has been typed. Kane is standing at the other side of the desk looking down on him. This is the first time we see murder in Kane's face. Bernstein looks at Kane, then crosses to Leland. He shakes him.
Hey, Brad! Brad!
(he straightens, looks at
He ain't been drinking before, Mr. Kane.
Never. We would have heard.
(finally; after a pause)
What does it say there?
Bernstein stares at him.
What's he written?
Bernstein looks over nearsightedly, painfully reading the paragraph written on the page.
"Miss Susan Alexander, a pretty but
hopelessly incompetent amateur -
(he waits for a minute to
catch his breath; he doesn't
- last night opened the new Chicago
Opera House in a performance of - of
(looks up miserably)
I can't pronounce that name, Mr. Kane.
Bernstein looks at Kane for a moment, then looks back, tortured.
"Her singing, happily, is no concern
of this department. Of her acting,
it is absolutely impossible to..."
(he continues to stare at
(after a short silence)
(without looking up)
That's all there is.
Kane snatches the paper from the roller and reads it for himself. Slowly, a queer look comes over his face. Then he speaks, very quietly.
Of her acting, it is absolutely
impossible to say anything except
that it represents a new low...
Have you got that, Mr. Bernstein?
In the opinion of this reviewer -
I didn't see that.
It isn't here, Mr. Bernstein. I'm
(looks at him)
I can't take shorthand.
Get me a typewriter. I'll finish
Bernstein retreats from the room.
QUICK DISSOLVE OUT:
QUICK DISSOLVE IN:
INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Long shot of Kane in his shirt sleeves, illuminated by a desk light, typing furiously. As the camera starts to pull even farther away from this, and as Bernstein - as narrator - begins to speak -
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940
Bernstein speaking to Thompson.
He finished it. He wrote the worst
notice I ever read about the girl he
loved. We ran it in every paper.
(after a pause)
I guess Mr. Kane didn't think so well
of Susie's art anyway.
(looks at him very soberly)
He thought she was great, Mr. Thompson.
He really believed that. He put all
his ambition on that girl. After she
came along, he never really cared for
himself like he used to. Oh, I don't
blame Susie -
Well, then, how could he write that
roast? The notices in the Kane papers
were always very kind to her.
Oh, yes. He saw to that. I tell you,
Mr. Thompson, he was a hard man to
figure out. He had that funny sense
of humor. And then, too, maybe he
thought by finishing that piece he
could show Leland he was an honest man.
You see, Leland didn't think so. I
guess he showed him all right. He's a
nice fellow, but he's a dreamer. They
were always together in those early days
when we just started the Enquirer.
On these last words, we
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1891
The front half of the second floor constitutes one large City Room. Despite the brilliant sunshine outside, very little of it is actually getting into the room because the windows are small and narrow. There are about a dozen tables and desks, of the old-fashioned type, not flat, available for reporters. Two tables, on a raised platform at the end of the room, obviously serve the city room executives. To the left of the platform is an open door which leads into the Sanctrum.
As Kane and Leland enter the room, an elderly, stout gent on the raised platform, strikes a bell and the other eight occupants of the room - all men - rise and face the new arrivals. Carter, the elderly gent, in formal clothes, rises and starts toward them.
Welcome, Mr. Kane, to the "Enquirer."
I am Herbert Carter.
Thank you, Mr Carter. This is Mr.
How do you do, Mr. Leland?
(pointing to the standing
Are they standing for me?
I thought it would be a nice gesture
- the new publisher -
Ask them to sit down.
You may resume your work, gentlemen.
I didn't know your plans and so I was
unable to make any preparations.
I don't my plans myself.
They are following Carter to his raised platform.
As a matter of fact, I haven't got
any. Except to get out a newspaper.
There is a terrific crash at the doorway. They all turn to see Bernstein sprawled at the entrance. A roll of bedding, a suitcase, and two framed pictures were too much for him.
Oh, Mr. Bernstein!
Bernstein looks up.
If you would come here a moment,
please, Mr. Bernstein?
Bernstein rises and comes over, tidying himself as he comes.
Mr. Carter, this is Mr. Bernstein.
Mr. Bernstein is my general manager.
How do you do, Mr. Bernstein?
You've got a private office here,
The delivery wagon driver has now appeared in the entrance with parts of the bedstead and other furniture. He is looking about, a bit bewildered.
(indicating open door to
left of platform)
My little sanctum is at your disposal.
But I don't think I understand -
I'm going to live right here.
As long as I have to.
But a morning newspaper, Mr. Kane.
After all, we're practically closed
twelve hours a day - except for the
business offices -
That's one of the things I think
must be changed, Mr. Carter. The
news goes on for twenty-four hours
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - LATE DAY - 1891
Kane, in his shirt sleeves, at a roll-top desk in the Sanctum, is working feverishly on copy and eating a very sizeable meal at the same time. Carter, still formally coated, is seated alongside him. Leland, seated in a corner, is looking on, detached, amused. The furniture has been pushed around and Kane's effects are somewhat in place. On a corner of the desk, Bernstein is writing down figures. No one pays any attention to him.
I'm not criticizing, Mr. Carter,
but here's what I mean. There's a
front page story in the "Chronicle,"
(points to it)
and a picture - of a woman in Brooklyn
who is missing. Probably murdered.
(looks to make sure of the name)
A Mrs. Harry Silverstone. Why didn't
the "Enquirer" have that this morning?
Because we're running a newspaper, Mr.
Kane, not a scandal sheet.
Kane has finished eating. He pushes away his plates.
I'm still hungry, Brad. Let's go
to Rector's and get something decent.
(pointing to the "Chronicle"
The "Chronicle" has a two-column
headline, Mr. Carter. Why haven't we?
There is no news big enough.
If the headline is big enough, it
makes the new big enough. The murder
of Mrs. Harry Silverstone -
As a matter of fact, we sent a man
to the Silverstone home yesterday
Our man even arrived before the
"Chronicle" reporter. And there's no
proof that the woman was murdered -
or even that she's dead.
(smiling a bit)
The "Chronicle" doesn't say she's
murdered, Mr. Carter. It says the
neighbors are getting suspicious.
It's not our function to report the
gossip of housewives. If we were
interested in that kind of thing,
Mr. Kane, we could fill the paper
twice over daily -
That's the kind of thing we are
going to be interested in from now
on, Mr. Carter. Right now, I wish
you'd send your best man up to see
Mr. Silverstone. Have him tell Mr.
Silverstone if he doesn't produce his
wife at once, the "Enquirer" will
have him arrested.
(he gets an idea)
Have him tell Mr. Silverstone he's a
detective from the Central Office.
If Mr. Silverstone asks to see his
badge, your man is to get indignant
and call Mr. Silverstone an anarchist.
Loudly, so that the neighbors can hear.
Really, Mr. Kane, I can't see the
function of a respectable newspaper -
Kane isn't listening to him.
Oh, Mr. Bernstein!
Bernstein looks up from his figures.
I've just made a shocking discovery.
The "Enquirer" is without a telephone.
Have two installed at once!
I ordered six already this morning!
Got a discount!
Kane looks at Leland with a fond nod of his head at Bernstein. Leland grins back. Mr. Carter, meantime, has risen stiffly.
But, Mr. Kane -
That'll be all today, Mr. Carter.
You've been most understanding.
Good day, Mr. Carter!
Carter, with a look that runs just short of apoplexy, leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
Poor Mr. Carter!
(shakes his head)
What makes those fellows think that
a newspaper is something rigid,
something inflexible, that people
are supposed to pay two cents for -
(without looking up)
Bernstein lifts his head and looks at Kane. Kane gazes back at him.
(tapping on the paper)
This is all figured at three cents
Re-figure it, Mr. Bernstein, at
(sighs and puts papers
in his pocket)
All right, but I'll keep these figures,
too, just in case.
Ready for dinner, Brad?
Mr. Leland, if Mr. Kane, he should
decide to drop the price to one cent,
or maybe even he should make up his
mind to give the paper away with a
half-pound of tea - you'll just hold
him until I get back, won't you?
I'm not guaranteeing a thing, Mr.
Bernstein. You people work too fast
for me! Talk about new brooms!
Who said anything about brooms?
It's a saying, Mr. Bernstein. A new
broom sweeps clean.
INT.PRIMITIVE COMPOSING AND PRESSROOM - NEW YORK ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1891
The ground floor witht he windows on the street - of the "Enquirer." It is almost midnight by an old-fashioned clock on the wall. Grouped around a large table, on which are several locked forms of type, very old-fashioned of course, but true to the period - are Kane and Leland in elegant evening clothes, Bernstein, unchanged from the afternoon, and Smathers, the composing room foreman, nervous and harassed.
But it's impossible, Mr. Kane. We
can't remake these pages.
These pages aren't made up as I want
them, Mr. Smathers. We go to press
in five minutes.
(about to crack up)
The "Enquirer" has an old and honored
tradition, Mr. Kane... The "Enquirer"
is not in competition with those other
We should be publishing such rags,
that's all I wish. Why, the "Enquirer" -
I wouldn't wrap up the liver for the
cat in the "Enquirer" -
Mr. Kane, I must ask you to see to
it that this - this person learns to
control his tongue.
Kane looks up.
I've been a newspaperman my whole life
and I don't intend -
(he starts to sputter)
- if it's your intention that I should
continue to be harassed by this - this -
(he's really sore)
I warn you, Mr. Kane, it would go against
my grain to desert you when you need me
so badly - but I would feel obliged to
ask that my resignation be accepted.
It is accepted, Mr. Carter, with
assurances of my deepest regard.
But Mr. Kane, I meant -
Kane turns his back on him, speaks again to the composing room foreman.
Let's remake these pages, Mr. Smathers.
We'll have to publish a half hour late,
(as though Kane were
We can't remake them, Mr. Kane. We
go to press in five minutes.
Kane sighs, unperturbed, as he reaches out his hand and shoves the forms off the table onto the floor, where they scatter into hundreds of bits.
You can remake them now, can't you,
Smather's mouth opens wider and wider. Bradford and Bernstein are grinning.
After the types 've been reset and
the pages have been remade according
to the way I told you before, Mr.
Smathers, kindly have proofs pulled
and bring them to me. Then, if I
can't find any way to improve them
(almost as if reluctantly)
- I suppose we'll have to go to press.
He starts out of the room, followed by Leland.
In case you don't understand, Mr.
Smathers - he's a new broom.
EXT. NEW YORK STREET - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891
The picture is mainly occupied by a large building, on the roof of which the lights spell out the word "Enquirer" against the sunrise. We do not see the street or the first few stories of this building, the windows of which would be certainly illuminated. What we do see is the floor on which is located the City Room. Over this scene, newboys are heard selling the Chronicle, their voices growing in volume.
As the dissolve complete itself, camera moves toward the one lighted window - the window of the Sanctrum.
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891
The newsboys are still heard from the street below - fainter but very insistent.
Kane's office is gas-lit, of course, as is the rest of the Enquirer building.
Kane, in his shirt sleeves, stands at the open window looking out. The bed is already made up. On it is seated Bernstein, smoking the end of a cigar. Leland is in a chair.
CHRONICLE! CHRONICLE! H'YA - THE
CHRONICLE - GET YA! CHRONICLE!
Kane, taking a deep breath of the morning air, closes the window and turns to the others. The voices of the newsboys, naturally, are very much fainter after this.
We'll be on the street soon, Charlie
- another ten minutes.
(looking at his watch)
It's three hours and fifty minutes
late - but we did it -
Leland rises from the chair, stretching painfully.
It's been a tough day.
A wasted day.
You just made the paper over four
times today, Mr. Kane. That's all -
I've changed the front page a little,
Mr. Bernstein. That's not enough -
There's something I've got to get into
this paper besides pictures and print
- I've got to make the "New York
Enquirer" as important to New York as
the gas in that light.
What're you going to do, Charlie?
Kane looks at him for a minute with a queer smile of happy concentration.
My Declaration of Principles -
(he says it with quotes
Don't smile, Brad -
(getting the idea)
Take dictation, Mr. Bernstein -
I can't take shorthand, Mr. Kane -
I'll write it myself.
Kane grabs a piece of rough paper and a grease crayon. Sitting down on the bed next to Bernstein, he starts to write.
(looking over his shoulder)
You don't wanta make any promises,
Mr. Kane, you don't wanta keep.
(as he writes)
These'll be kept.
(stops for a minute and
reads what he has written;
I'll provide the people of this city
with a daily paper that will tell
all the news honestly.
(starts to write again;
reading as he writes)
I will also provide them -
That's the second sentence you've
started with "I" -
People are going to know who's
responsible. And they're going to
get the news - the true news -
quickly and simply and entertainingly.
(he speaks with real
And no special interests will be
allowed to interfere with the truth
of that news.
He looks at Leland for a minute and goes back to his writing, reading as he writes.
Bernstein has risen and crossed to one side of Kane. They both stand looking out. Leland joins him on the other side. Their three heads are silhouetted against the sky. Leland's head is seen to turn slightly as he looks into Kane's face - camera very close on this - Kane turns to him and we know their eyes have met, although their faces are almost in sillhouette. Bernstein is still smoking a cigar.
Front page of the "Enquirer" shows big boxed editorial with heading:
MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION
BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE
Camera continues pulling back and shows newspaper to be on the top of a pile of newspapers. As we draw further back, we see four piles, and as camera contines to pull back, we see six piles and go on back until we see a big field of "Enquirers" - piles of "Enquirers" - all 26,000 copies ready for distribution.
A wagon with a huge sign on its side reading
"ENQUIRER - CIRCULATION 26,000"
passes through foreground, and we wipe to:
A pile of "Enquirers" for sale on a broken down wooden box on a street corner, obviously a poor district. A couple of coins fall on the pile.
The stoop of a period door with old-fashioned enamel milk can and a bag of rolls. Across the sidewalk before this, moves the shadow of an old-fashioned bicycle with an enormous front wheel. A copy of the "Enquirer" is tossed on the stoop.
A breakfast table - beautiful linen and beautiful silver - everything very expensive, gleaming in the sunshine. Into a silver newspaper rack there is slipped a copy of the "Enquirer". Here, as before, the boxed editorial reading MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE, is very prominent on the front page.
The wooden floor of a railroad station, flashing light and dark as a train behind the camera rushes by. On the floor, there is tossed a bound bundle of the "New York Enquirer" - the Declaration of Principles still prominent.
Rural Delivery - a copy of the "Enquirer"s being put into bins, showing state distribution.
The railroad platform again. We stay here for four images. On each image, the speed of the train is faster and the piles of the "Enquirer" are larger. On the first image, we move in to hold on the words "CIRCULATION - 31,000." We are this close for the next pile which reads 40,000; the next one which reads 55,000, and the last which is 62,000. In each instance, the bundles of newspapers are thicker and the speed of the moving train behind the camera is increased.
The entire montage above indicated is accompanied by a descriptive complement of sound - the traffic noises of New York in the 1890's; wheels on cobblestones and horses' hooves; bicycle bells; the mooning of cattle and the crowing of roosters (in the RFD shot), and in all cases where the railroad platform is used - the mounting sound of the railroad train.
The last figure "62,000" opposite the word "CIRCULATION" on the "Enquirer" masthead changes to:
EXT. STREET AND CHRONICLE BUIDING - DAY - 1895
Angle up to wall of building - a painter on a cradle is putting the last zero to the figure "62,000" on an enormous sign advertising the "Enquirer." It reads:
THE PEOPLE'S NEWSPAPER
Camera travels down side of building - takes in another building on which there is a sign which reads:
READ THE ENQUIRER
Camera continues to travel down to sidewalk in front of the Chronicle office. The Chronicle office has a plateglass window in which is reflected traffic moving up and down the street, also the figures of Kane, Leland and Bernstein, who are munching peanuts.
Inside the window, almost filling it, is a large photograph of the "Chronicle" staff, with Reilly prominently seated in the center. A sign over the photo reads: EDITORIAL AND EXECUTIVE STAFF OF THE NEW YORK CHRONICLE. A sign beneath it reads: GREATEST NEWSPAPER STAFF IN THE WORLD. The sign also includes the "Chronicle" circulation figure. There are nine men in the photo.
(looking up at the sign -
Sixty-two thousand -
That looks pretty nice.
(indicating the Chronicle
Let's hope they like it there.
From the Chronicle Building that sign
is the biggest thing you can see -
every floor guaranteed - let's hope
it bothers them - it cost us enough.
(pointing to the sign over
the photograph in the
Look at that.
The "Chronicle" is a good newspaper.
It's a good idea for a newspaper.
(reading the figures)
Four hundred sixy thousand.
Say, with them fellows -
(referring to the photo)
- it's no trick to get circulation.
You're right, Mr. Bernstein.
You know how long it took the "Chronicle"
to get that staff together? Twenty years.
Kane, smiling, lights a cigarette, at the same time looking into the window. Camera moves in to hold on the photograph of nine men, still holding the reflection of Kane's smiling face.
INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895
Nine men, arrayed as in the photograph, but with Kane beaming in the center of the first row. The men, variously with mustaches, beards, bald heads, etc. are easily identified as being the same men, Reilly prominent amongst them.
As camera pulls back, it is revealed that they are being photographed - by an old-type professional photographer, big box, black hood and all - in a corner of the room. It is 1:30 at night. Desks, etc. have been pushed against the wall. Running down the center of the room is a long banquet table, at which twenty diners have finished their meals. The eleven remaining at their seats - these include Bernstein and Leland - are amusedly watching the photographic ceremonies.
That's all. Thank you.
The photographic subjects rise.
(a sudden thought)
Make up an extra copy and mail it
to the "Chronicle."
Chuckling and beaming, he makes his way to his place at the head of the table. The others have already sat down. Kane gets his guests' attention by rapping on the table with a knife.
Gentlemen of the "Enquirer"! This
has, I think, been a fitting welcome
to those distinguished journalists -
(indicates the eight men)
Mr. Reilly in particular - who are
the latest additions to our ranks.
It will make them happy to learn that
the "Enquirer's" circulation this
morning passed the two hundred thousand
Two hundred and one thousand, six
hundred and forty-seven.
All of you - new and old - You're
all getting the best salaries in
town. Not one of you has been hired
because of his loyalty. It's your
talent I'm interested in. That talent
that's going to make the "Enquirer"
the kind of paper I want - the best
newspaper in the world!
However, I think you'll agree we've
heard enough about newspapers and
the newspaper business for one night.
There are other subjects in the world.
He puts his two fingers in his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle. This is a signal. A band strikes up a lively ditty of the period and enters in advance a regiment of very magnificent maidens, as daringly arrayed as possible in the chorus costumes of the day. The rest of this episode will be planned and staged later. Its essence is that Kane is just a healthy and happy young man having a wonderful time.
As some of the girls are detached from the line and made into partners for individual dancing -
The "Enquirer" sign:
Dissolve just completes itself - the image of Kane dancing with a girl on each arm just disappears as camera pans down off the Temple Bldg. in the same action as the previous street scene. There is a new sign on the side of the building below. It reads:
READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD
Camera continues panning as we
A montage of various scenes, between the years 1891-1900.
The scenes indicate the growth of the "Enquirer" under the impulse of Kane's personal drive. Kane is shown, thus, at various activities:
Move down from the sign:
READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD
to street in front of saloon with parade passing (boys going off to the Spanish-American War)- A torchlight parade with the torches reflected in the glass window of the saloon - the sound of brass band playing "It's a Hot Time." In the window of the saloon is a large sign or poster
"REMEMBER THE MAINE"
INSERT: Remington drawing of American boys, similar to the parade above, in which "Our Boys" in the expeditionary hats are seen marching off to war.
Back of observation car. Shot of Kane congratulating Teddy Roosevelt (the same shot as in the News Digest - without flickering).
The wooden floor of the railroad platform again - a bundle of "Enquirers" - this time an enormous bundle - is thrown down, and the moving shadows of the train behind the camera indicate that it is going like a bat out of hell. A reproduction of Kane and Teddy shaking hands as above is very prominent in the frame and almost hogs the entire front page. The headline indicates the surrender of Cuba.
INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE
Cartoon, highly dramatic and very involved as to content - lousy with captions, labels, and symbolic figures, the most gruesome and recognizable - "Capitalistic Greed." This cartoon is almost finished and is on a drawing board before which stand Kane and the artist himself. Kane is grinning over some suggestion he has made.
The cartoon finished and reproduced on the editorial page of the "Enquirer" - in quite close, with an editorial and several faces of caps shown underneath. The entire newspaper is crushed with an angry gesture and thrown down into an expensive-looking wastebasket (which is primarily for ticker tape) tape is pouring.
INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE
Cartoonist and Kane working on comic strip of "Johnny the Monk."
Floor of room - Two kids on floor, with newspaper spread out, looking at the same comic strip.
Kane's photographic gallery with photographers, stooges, and Kane himself in attendance on a very hot-looking item of the period. A sob sister is interviewing this hot number and Kane is arranging her dress to look more seductive.
The hot number reproduced and prominently displayed and covering almost half a page of the "Enquirer." It is being read in a barber shop and is seen in an over-shoulder shot of the man who is reading it. He is getting a shine, a manicure, and a haircut. The sob-sister caption over the photograph reveals: "I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING, SAYS DANCER. EVERYTHING WENT RED." An oval photograph of the gun is included in the lay-out of the pretty lady with a headline which says: "DEATH GUN."
STREET - SHOT OF BUCKET BRIGADE
Shot of Kane, in evening clothes, in obvious position of danger, grabbing camera from photographer. Before him rages a terrific tenement fire.
INSERT: Headline about inadequacy of present fire equipment.
Final shot of a new horse-drawn steam engine roaring around a street corner (Stock).
A black pattern of iron bars. We are in a prison cell. The door is opened and a condemned man, with priest, warden and the usual attendants, moves into foreground and starts up the hall past a group which includes phtographers, Kane's sob-sister, and Kane. The photographers take pictures with a mighty flash of old-fashioned flash powder. The condemned man in the foreground (in silhouette) is startled by this.
A copy of the "Enquirer" spread out on a table. A big lay-out of the execution story includes the killer as photographed by Kane's photographers, and nearby on the other page there is a large picture of the new steam fire engine (made from the stock shot) with a headline indicating that the "Enquirer" has won its campaign for better equipment. A cup of coffee and a doughnut are on the newspaper, and a servant girl - over whose shoulder we see the paper - is stirring the coffee.
The Beaux Art Ball. A number of elderly swells are jammed into a hallway. Servants suddenly divest them of their furs, overcoats and wraps, revealing them to be in fancy dress costume, pink fleshings, etc., the effect to be very surprising, very lavish and very very ridiculous. We see, among others, Mr. Thatcher himself (as Ben Hur) ribbon around, his bald head and all. At the conclusion of this tableau, the image freezes and we pull back to show it reproduced on the society page of the "New York Enquirer."
Over the "Enquirer"'s pictorial version of the Beaux Art Ball is thrown a huge fish - then coffee grounds - altogether a pretty repulsive sight.
The whole thing is bundled up and thrown into a garbage can.
Extreme close-up of the words: "OCCUPATION - JOUNALIST."
Camera pulls back to show passport open to the photograph page which shows Kane, registering birth, race, and nationality. Passport cover is closed, showing it to be an American passport.
EXT. CUNARD DOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900
As camera pulls back over shoulder of official, taking in Kane, Leland, and Bernstein, we see the bustle and noise of departing ocean liner. Behind the principles can be seen an enormous plain sign which reads: "FIRST CLASS." From offstage can be heard the steward's cry, indispensable in any Mercury production, the old familiar cry, "All Ashore That's Going Ashore!" - gongs, also blasts of the great whistle and all the rest of it.
There you are, Mr. Kane. Everything
Kane and Leland and Bernstein start up the gangplank.
Have a good rest, Mr. Kane.
But please, Mr. Kane, don't buy any
more paintings. Nine Venuses already
we got, twenty-six Virgins - two
whole warehouses full of stuff -
I promise not to bring any more
Venuses and not to worry - and not
to try to get in touch with any of
the papers -
- and to forget about the new feature
sections - and not to try to think
up and ideas for comic sections.
All ashore that's going ashore!
Kane leaves Leland and Bernstein midway up gangplank, as he rushes up to it, calling back with a wave:
(at the top of the gangplank,
he turns and calls down)
(calling down to them)
You don't expect me to keep any
of those promises, do you?
A band on deck strikes up "Auld Lang Syne." Bernstein and Leland turn to each other.
Do you, Mr. Leland?
They start down the gangplank together.
LONG SHOT OF THE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT
The pattern of telegraph wires, dripping with rain, through which we see the same old building but now rendered fairly remarkable by tremendous outline sign in gold which reads "THE NEW YORK DAILY ENQUIRER." A couple of lights show in the building. We start toward the window where the lights show, as we -
EXT. OUTSIDE THE WINDOW AT BERNSTEIN'S DESK - NIGHT
The light in the window in the former shot was showing behind the letter "E" of the Enquirer sign. Now the letter "E" is even larger than the frame of the camera. Rain drips disconsolately off the middle part of the figure. We see through this and through the drizzle of the window to Bernstein's desk where he sits working under a blue shaded light.
Same setup as before except that it is now late afternoon and late in the winter of the year. The outline "E" is hung with icicles which are melting, dripping despairingly between us and Mr. Bernstein, still seated at his desk - still working.
Same setup as before except that it is spring. Instead of the sad sounds of dripping rain or dripping icicles, we hear the melancholy cry of a hurdy-gurdy in the street below. It is spring and through the letter "E" we can see Bernstein working at his desk. Pigeons are gathering on the "E" and on the sill. Bernstein looks up and sees them. He takes some crumbs from his little homemade lunch which is spread out on the desk before him, carries them to the windows and feeds the pigeons, looking moodily out on the prospect of spring on Park Row. The birds eat the crumbs - the hurdy-gurdy continues to play.
The same setup again, it is now summer. The window was half-open before .. now it's open all the way and Bernstein has gone so far as to take off his coat. His shirt and his celluloid collar are wringing wet. Camera moves toward the window to tighten on Bernstein and to take in the City Room behind him, which is absolutely deserted. It is clear that there is almost nothing more for Bernstein to do. The hurdy-gurdy in the street is playing as before, but a new tune.
A beach on Coney Island.
Bernstein in a rented period bathing suit sits alone in the sand, reading a copy of the "Enquirer."
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900
The whole floor is now a City Room. It is twice its former size, yet not too large for all the desks and the people using them. The windows have been enlarged, providing a good deal more light and air. A wall calendar says September 9th.
Kane and Bernstein enter and stand in the entrance a moment. Kane, who really did look a bit peaked before, is now clear-eyed and tanned. He is wearing new English clothes. As they come into the room, Bernstein practically walking sideways, is doing nothing but beaming and admiring Kane, quelling like a mother at the Carnegie Hall debut of her son. Seeing and recognizing Kane, the entire staff rises to its feet.
(referring to the staff;
with a smile)
Ask them to sit down, Mr. Bernstein.
Sit down, everybody - for heaven's
The order is immediately obeyed, everybody going into business of feverish activity.
So then, tonight, we go over everything
thoroughly, eh? Especially the new
We certainly do. Vacation's over -
starting right after dinner. But
right now - that lady over there -
(he indicates a woman
at the desk)
- that's the new society editor, I
take it? You think I could interrupt
her a moment, Mr. Bernstein?
Huh? Oh, I forgot - you've been
away so long I forgot about your
He trails after Kane as he approaches the Society Editor's desk. The Society Editor, a middle-aged spinster, sees him approaching and starts to quake all over, but tries to pretend she isn't aware of him. An envelope in her hand shakes violently. Kane and Bernstein stop at her desk.
Miss Townsend -
Miss Townsend looks up and is so surprised to see Bernstein with a stranger.
Good afternoon, Mr. Bernstein.
This is Mr. Kane, Miss Townsend.
Miss Townsend can't stick to her plan. She starts to rise, but her legs are none too good under her. She knocks over a tray of copy paper as she rises, and bends to pick it up.
(very hesitatingly and
Miss Townsend -
At the sound of his voice, she straightens up. She is very close to death from excitement.
I've been away for several months,
and I don't know exactly how these
things are handled now. But one
thing I wanted to be sure of is that
you won't treat this little
announcement any differently than
you would any other similar
He hands her an envelope. She has difficulty in holding on to it.
Read it, Miss Townsend. And remember
- just the regular treatment!
See you at nine o'clock, Mr. Bernstein!
Kane leaves. Bernstein looks after him, then at the paper. Miss Townsend finally manages to open the envelope. A piece of flimsy paper, with a few written lines, is her reward.
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton
announce the engagement of their
daughter, Emily Monroe Norton, to Mr.
Charles Foster Kane.
(starts to read it)
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton
(fluttering - on top of him)
She's - she's the niece of - of the
President of the United States -
I know. Come on, Miss Townsend -
From the window, maybe we can get a
He takes her by the hand and leads her off.
Angle toward open window. Bernstein and Miss Townsend, backs to camera, rushing to the window.
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900
High angle downward - what Bernstein and Miss Townsend see from the window.
Kane is just stepping into an elegant barouch, drawn up at the curb, in which sits Miss Emily Norton. He kisses her full on the lips before he sits down. She acts a bit taken aback, because of the public nature of the scene, but she isn't really annoyed. As the barouche starts off, she is looking at him adoringly. He, however, has turned his head and is looking adoringly at the "Enquirer." He apparently sees Bernstein and Miss Townsed and waves his hand.
INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1900
Bernstein and Miss Townsend at window.
A girl like that, believe me, she's
lucky! Presiden't niece, huh! Say,
before he's through, she'll be a
Miss Townsend is now dewey-eyed. She looks at Bernstein, who has turned away, gazing down at the departing couple.
Front page of the "Enquirer." Large picture of the young couple - Kane and Emily - occupying four columns - very happy.
INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1940
Bernstein and Thompson. As the dissolve comes, Bernstein's voice is heard.
The way things turned out, I don't
need to tell you - Miss Emily Norton
was no rosebud!
It didn't end very well, did it?
(shaking his head)
It ended -
(a slight pause)
Then there was Susie - that ended, too.
(shrugs, a pause; then
looking up into Thompson's
I guess he didn't make her very happy -
You know, I was thinking - that Rosebud
you're trying to find out about -
Maybe that was something he lost.
Mr. Kane was a man that lost - almost
everything he had -
You ought to talk to Bradford Leland.
He could tell you a lot. I wish I
could tell you where Leland is, but I
don't know myself. He may be out of
town somewhere - he may be dead.
In case you'd like to know, Mr.
Bernstein, he's at the Huntington
Memorial Hospital on 180th Street.
You don't say! Why I had no idea -
Nothing particular the matter with
him, they tell me. Just -
Just old age.
It's the only disease, Mr. Thompson,
you don't look forward to being cured
You ought to see Mr. Leland. There's
a whole lot of things he could tell
you - if he wanted to.
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940
Close shot - Thompson. He is tilted back in a chair which seems to be, and is, leaning against a chimney. Leland's voice is heard for a few moments before Leland is seen.
When you get to my age, young man,
you don't miss anything. Unless
maybe it's a good drink of bourbon.
Even that doesn't make much difference,
if you remember there hasn't been
any good bourbon in this country for
Camera has pulled back, during above speech, revealing that Leland, wrapped in a blanket, is in a wheel chair, talking to Thompson. They are on the flat roof of a hospital. Other people in wheel chairs can be seen in the background, along with a nurse or two. They are all sunning themselves.
Mr. Leland, you were -
You don't happen to have a cigar,
do you? I've got a young physician
- must remember to ask to see his
license - the odds are a hundred to
one he hasn't got one - who thinks
I'm going to stop smoking... I
changed the subject, didn't I? Dear,
dear! What a disagreeable old man
I've become. You want to know what I
think of Charlie Kane? Well - I suppose
he has some private sort of greatness.
But he kept it to himself.
He never - gave himself away - He
never gave anything away. He just -
left you a tip. He had a generous
mind. I don't suppose anybody ever had
so many opinions. That was because
he had the power to express them, and
Charlie lived on power and the excitement
of using it - But he didn't believe in
anything except Charlie Kane. He never
had a conviction in his life. I guess
he died without one - That must have
been pretty unpleasant. Of course, a
lot of us check out with no special
conviction about death. But we do know
what we're leaving ... we believe in
(looks sharply at Thompson)
You're absolutely sure you haven't got
Sorry, Mr. Leland.
Never mind - Bernstein told you about
the first days at the office, didn't
he? Well, Charlie was a bad newspaper
man even then. He entertained his
readers, but he never told them the
Maybe you could remember something
I can remember everything. That's
my curse, young man. It's the
greatest curse that's ever been
inflicted on the human race. Memory
- I was his oldest friend.
As far as I was concerned, he
behaved like swine. Maybe I wasnt'
his friend. If I wasn't, he never
had one. Maybe I was what nowadays
you call a stooge -
INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895
The party (previously shown in the Bernstein sequence).
We start this sequence toward the end of the former one, but from a fresh angle, holding on Leland, who is at the end of the table. Kane is heard off, making a speech.
Not one of you has been hired
because of his loyalty. It's your
talent I'm interested in. That talent
that's going to make the "Enquirer"
the kind of paper I want - the best
newspaper in the world!
Applause. During above, Bernstein has come to Leland's side.
Isn't it wonderful? Such a party!
His tone causes Bernstein to look at him.
However, I think you'll agree we've
heard enough about newspapers and
the newspaper business for one night.
The above speeches are heard under the following dialogue.
What's the matter?
Mr. Bernstein, these men who are now
with the "Enquirer" - who were with
the "Chronicle" until yesterday -
weren't they just as devoted to the
"Chronicle" kind of paper as they
are now to - our kind of paper?
Sure. They're like anybody else.
They got work to do. They do it.
Only they happen to be the best men
in the business.
(finishing his speech)
There are other subjects in the world -
Kane whistles. The band and the chorus girls enter and hell breaks loose all around Leland and Bernstein.
(after a minute)
Do we stand for the same things
that the "Chronicle" stands for,
Certainly not. So what's that got
to do with it? Mr. Kane, he'll
have them changed to his kind of
newspapermen in a week.
Probably. There's always a chance,
of course, that they'll change Mr.
Kane - without his knowing it.
Kane has come up to Leland and Bernstein. He sits down next to them, lighting a cigarette.
Well, gentlemen, are we going to
Our readers are, anyway, I don't
know about the rest of the country.
It'll be our first foreign war in
fifty years, Brad. We'll cover it
the way the "Hickville Gazette" covers
the church social! The names of
everybody there; what they wore; what
they ate; who won the prizes; who
gave the prizes -
I tell you, Brad, I envy you.
By Bradford Leland, the "Enquirer's"
Special Correspondent at the Front.
I'm almost tempted -
But there is no Front, Charlie.
There's a very doubtful civil war.
Besides, I don't want the job.
All right, Brad, all right - you
don't have to be a war correspondent
unless you want to - I'd want to.
Georgie, a very handsome madam has walked into the picture, stands behind him. She leans over and speaks quietly in his ear.
Is everything the way you want it,
If everybody's having fun, that's
the way I want it.
I've got some other little girls
coming over -
Charles, I tell you there is no war!
There's a condition that should be
remedied - but between that and a -
How would the "Enquirer" look with
no news about this non-existent war
- with Benton, Pulitzer and Heart
devoting twenty columns a day to it?
They do it only because you do!
And I do it because they do it, and
they do it - it's a vicious circle,
I'm going over to Georgie's, Brad -
you know, Georgie, don't you?
(over Kane's next lines)
Glad to meet you, Brad.
I told you about Brad, Georgie.
He needs to relax.
Brad doesn't answer.
Some ships with wonderful wines
have managed to slip through the
enemy fleet that's blockading New
York harbor -
Georgie knows a young lady whom I'm
sure you'd adore - wouldn't he,
Georgie? Why only the other evening
I said to myself, if Brad were only
here to adore this young lady - this -
(snaps his fingers)
What's her name again?
INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - NIGHT - 1895
Georgie is introducing a young lady to Branford Leland. On sound track we hear piano music.
(right on cue from
Ethel - this gentlemen has been
very anxious to meet you - This
Hello, Mr. Leland.
Camera pans to include Kane, seated at piano, with girls gathered around him.
ONE OF THE GIRLS
Charlie! Play the song about you.
Is there a song about Charlie?
Kane has broken into "Oh, Mr. Kane!" and Charlie and the girls start to sing. Ethel leads the unhappy Leland over to the group. Kane, seeing Leland and taking his eye, motions to the professor who has been standing next to him to take over. The professor does so. The singing continues. Kane rises and crosses to Leland.
(draws him slightly aside)
I've got an idea.
I mean I've got a job for you.
You don't want to be a war
correspondent - how about being a
(sincerely, but not
I'd like that.
Kane starts quietly to dance in time to the music. Leland smiles at him.
You start tomorrow night. Richard
Carl in "The Spring Chicken."
(or supply show)
I'll get us some girls. You get
tickets. A drama critic gets them
free, you know.
Rector's at seven?
It doesn't make any difference about
me, but one of these days you're
going to find out that all this
charm of yours won't be enough -
(has stopped dancing)
You're wrong. It does make a
difference to you - Rector's,
(starts to dance again)
Come to think of it, I don't blame
you for not wanting to be a war
correspondent. You won't miss
anything. It isn't much of a war.
Besides, they tell me there isn't
a decent restaurant on the whole
INT. RECTOR'S - NIGHT - 1898
Leland, Kane, two young ladies at Rector's. Popular music is heard over the soundtrack. Everybody is laughing very, very hard at something Kane has said. The girls are hysterical. Kane can hardly breathe. As Leland's laughter becomes more and more hearty, it only increases the laughter of the others.
EXT. CUNARD LOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900
As told by Bernstein. Kane is calling down to Leland and Bernstein (as before).
You don't expect me to keep any
of those promises, do you?
A band on deck strikes up "Auld Lang Syne" and further ship-to-shore conversation is rendered unfeasible.
Bernstein and Leland on deck.
(turns to Leland)
Do you, Mr. Leland?
Slight pause. They continue on their way.
Mr. Leland, why didn't you go to
Europe with him? He wanted you
to. He said to me just yesterday -
I wanted him to have fun - and with
me along -
This stops Bernstein. Bernstein looks at him.
Mr. Bernstein, I wish you'd let me
ask you a few questions, and answer
Don't I always? Most of the time?
Mr. Bernstein, am I a stuffed shirt?
Am I a horse-faced hypocrite? Am I
a New England school-marm?
Leland is surprised.
If you thought I'd answer different
from what Mr. Kane tells you - well,
You're in a conspiracy against me,
you two. You always have been.
Against me there should be such a
conspiracy some time!
He pauses. "Auld Lang Syne" can still be heard from the deck of the department steamer.
(with a hopeful look in
Well, he'll be coming back in September.
The Majestic. I got the reservations.
It gets in on the ninth.
September the ninth?
Leland puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out a pencil and small engagement book, opens the book and starts to write.
Leland's pencil writing on a page in the engagement book open to September 9: "Rector's - 8:30 p.m."
Front page "Enquirer." Large picture of the young couple - Kane and Emily - occupying four columns - very happy.
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940
Leland and Thompson. Leland is speaking as we dissolve.
I used to go to dancing school with
Thompson had handed Leland a paper.
It's a letter from her lawyers.
(reading aloud from
David, Grobleski & Davis - My
dear Rawlston -
Rawlston is my boss.
Oh, yes. I know about Mr. Rawlston.
He knows the first Mrs. Kane socially
- That's the answer we got.
I am in receipt of your favor of
yesterday. I beg you to do me the
courtesy of accepting my assurance
that Mrs. Whitehall cannot be induced
to contribute any more information
on the career of Charles Foster Kane.
She has authorized me to state on
previous occasions that she regards
their brief marriage as a distateful
episode in her life that she prefers
to forget. With assurances of the
highest esteem -
Leland hands the paper back to Thompson.
Brief marriage! Ten years!
Was he in love?
He married for love -
(a little laugh)
That's why he did everything. That's
why he went into politics. It seems
we weren't enough. He wanted all the
voters to love him, too. All he
really wanted out of life was love.
That's Charlie's story - it's the
story of how he lost it. You see, he
just didn't have any to give. He
loved Charlie Kane, of course, very
dearly - and his mother, I guess he
always loved her. As for Emily -
well, all I can tell you is Emily's
story as she told it to me, which
probably isn't fair - there's supposed
to be two sides to every story - and
I guess there are. I guess there's
more than two sides -
Newspaper - Kane's marriage to Emily with still of group on White House lawn, same setup as early newsreel in News Digest.
KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT
Big headline on "Enquirer" front page which reads:
KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT
Under this, one of those big box signed editorials, typical of Kane, illustrated, on subject of the power of the president, expressed in about nine different cases of type, and illustrated by a cartoon of the White House, on which camera tightens, as we -
INT. THE WHITE HOUSE - THE PRESIDENT'S EXECUTIVE OFFICE - DAY - 1900
This scene is shot so as never to show the President - or at least never his face. There is present the President's Secretary, sitting on one side of the desk, intently taking notes. Kane is on his feet, in front of the desk, tense and glaring.
It is the unanimous opinion of my
Cabinent - in which I concur - that
the proposed leases are in the best
interests of the Governement and the
You are not, I hope, suggesting that
these interests are not indentical?
I'm not suggesting anything, Mr.
President! I've come here to tell
you that, unless some action is taken
promptly - and you are the only one
who can take it - the oil that is the
property of the people of this country
will be turned over for a song to a
gang of high-pressure crooks!
I must refuse to allow you to continue
in this vein, Mr. Kane.
It's the only vein I know. I tell
the facts the way I see them. And
any man that knows that facts -
I know the facts, Mr. Kane. And I
happen to have the incredible insolence
to differ with you as to what they
You're a man of great talents, Mr. Kane.
I understand that you have political
ambitions. Unfortunately, you seem
incapable of allowing any other opinion
but your own -
(building to a frenzy)
I'm much obliged, Mr. President, for
your concern about me. However, I
happen to be concerned at this moment
with the matter of extensive oil
lands belonging to the people of the
United States, and I say that if this
lease goes through, the property of
the people of the United States goes
into the hands of -
You've made your point perfectly clear,
Mr. Kane. Good day.
The Secretary rises. Kane, with every bit of will power remotely at his disposal to control what might become an hysterical outburst, manages to bow.
He starts out of the office.
INT. COMPOSING ROOM - ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1902
Kane, Reilly, Leland and a composing room Foreman, in working clothes, bending over a table with several forms of type. They are looking, at this moment, at a made-up headline - but Kane's back is in the way ... so we can't read it.
How about it, Mr. Kane?
Reilly glances at his wrist watch and makes a face. Kane smiles as he notices this.
All right. Let her slide!
He turns away, and we can now read the headline.
Insert of the headline, which reads:
"OIL THEFT BECOMES LAW AS
PRESIDENT WITHOLDS VETO"
Here follows a quick montage (presently to be worked out) of no more than four or five images in which the President, by means of cartoons, editorials, headlines (all faithfully reproduced from period yellow journalism) is violently attacked. The montage ends on the word TREASON. The music cuts.
A hand reaches in a side pocket which contains a newspaper - recognizably the "Enquirer." The hand removes a gun. The gun is shot. Many arms seize the hand which is pulled up - gun still firing. As the arm is raised in the air, we see that the other arms holding the arm and struggling with it are uniformed, and we see the White House beyond.
News ticker which is spelling out the words:
"ASSASSINATED 7:45 P.M."
NOTE: Under the following - a down shot, below the "Enquirer," shows a crowd forming, looking angrily up toward the camera. Crowd noises on the soundtrack under music.
A hand snatches the ticker tape away and as the image of the crowd dissolves out, we pull back to show:
INT. OF KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT - 1902
The ticker tape is in Reilly's hand. Reilly has a phone to his ear.
Looks bad for us, Mr. Kane. How
shall we handle it?
INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - 1902
Kane in shirtsleeves at phone.
It's a news story! Get it on
Headline under "Enquirer" masthead which reads:
A newsboy is crying the headline at the same time. We pull back to show him and -
INT. THEATRE - NIGHT
The camera is in tight on a box which contains Emily and distinguished elderly ladies and gentlemen, obviously family and friends. On the soundtrack, very limpid opera music. Another elderly gent, in white tie but still wearing an overcoat, comes into the box and whispers to Emily. He has a copy of the "Enquirer" in his hand. Emily rises. He shows the paper to her.
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT - 1902
An angry crowd seen from the window of Kane's office. They make a deep threatening sound which is audible during the following scene. Across the heads of the crowd are two great squares of light from the windows above them. One of these disappears as the blind is pulled. As the dissolve completes itself, the second square of light commences to reduce in size, and then the entire street is cut off by a blind which Leland pulls down, covering the entire frame.
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1902
The staff standing around, worried to death, in their shirtsleeves.
Take dictation - Front page
editorial - "This afternoon a
great man was assassinated. He
was the President of the United
Do you think you're the one who
should call him a great man?
Why not? Well - nobody's a great
man in your estimation until he's
Maybe we'd better wait for more
word on the President's condition.
(still looking at Leland)
What do you mean by that?
He may recover -
(still holding on Leland)
What do you mean by that?
Yesterday morning you called the
President a traitor. What do you
think that crowd is doing down
there? They think you murdered him.
Because the crackpot who did it
had a copy of the "Enquirer" in his
- and that copy of the "Enquirer"
said the President should be killed.
I said treason was a capital offense
punishable by death -
You've said a lot of things about
the President in the last few months.
They're true! Everything I said!
Witholding that veto was treason!
(riding over him)
Oil belonging to the people of the
United States was leased out for a
song to a gang of high-pressure
crooks - Nobody can blame me because -
Look out that window.
Kane stops - looks at him.
There are the people of the United
States, and they are blaming you -
Oh, I know it doesn't make any sense,
but at least you can learn a lesson
What lesson? Not to expose fraud
when I see it? Not to fight for the
right of the people to own their own
(he turns to Reilly)
Run it the way I said, Reilly - "This
afternoon a great man was assassinated -"
Charlie! Now you're not making sense.
I don't have to. I run a newspaper
with half a million readers and
they're getting a martyred president
this morning with their breakfast.
I can't help that. Besides, they all
know I'm married to his niece. I've
got to think of her.
I've got to think of Emily -
(after a silence)
I'd like to talk to you about that.
Leland looks back at Kane, is conscious of the boys standing around.
Finish your editorial.
Leland walks out in to the City Room. More staff members in shirt sleeves in a state of panic. Leland goes to his desk, takes out a bottle, pours himself a very stiff drink. A door opens. A Policeman enters with Bernstein. Bernstein is badly battered. The boys crowd around.
I'm all right, Mr. Leland. Only
there was some fellows out front
that thought they ought to take
things up with me. I learned 'em!
Didn't I, officer?
You sure did - Say, the Commissioner
said I was to stand by and protect
Mr. Kane until further orders, no
matter how he felt about it. Where
(finishing his drink)
If you hadn't come along and
protected me when you did, I'd have
killed them fellows.
(pouring himself another
Go and get yourself washed up, Mr.
(he looks his face over
There doesn't seem to be an serious
Not to me. But you will let that
cop go home with Mr. Kane, won't you?
Yes, Mr. Bernstein.
Bernstein leaves the picture with sympathetic attendance. Leland finishes his second drink.
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT - 1902
The bottle is finished. The door in the Sanctrum opens. Reilly and the others leave.
(as they go)
Goodnight, Mr. Kane.
Kane stands in the door, waiting for Leland. Leland gets up and moves toward the office - goes in, sits down across from Kane at the desk. An uncomfortable pause. Then Kane smiles ingratiatingly. Leland tries to cope with this.
First of all -
(he can't go on)
(not cruelly -
What's wrong, Brad?
I'll get you some coffee.
He rises and goes to the door.
First of all, I will not write a
good review of a play because
somebody paid a thousand dollars
for an advertisement in the
(gently - opening the
That's just a little promotion scheme.
Nobody expects you -
Mike, will you try and get Mr. Leland
Sure thing, Mr. Kane.
Kane turns back to Leland. Leland doesn't look up at him.
Charlie, it's just no go. We
can't agree anymore. I wish you'd
let me go to Chicago.
I want to be transferred to the new
paper. You've been saying yourself
you wish you had somebody to -
(he is heartsick, inarticulate)
That's not what I wanted to talk
Kane goes around behind the desk and sits down.
I'll tell you what I'll do, Brad -
I'll get drunk, too - maybe that'll
No, that won't help. Besides, you
never get drunk. I wanted to talk
about you and Emily.
Kane looks at Leland sharply before he speaks.
(without looking at him)
She's going to leave you -
I don't think so, Brad. We've
just had word that the President
is out of danger.
It seems I didn't kill him after all.
(takes his eye)
She was going to leave you anyway -
Kane takes this in.
Emily's going south next week with
the child. As far as anybody's to
know, it's a holiday. When they get
Brad, you are drunk.
Sure I am. She wants full custody
of the child no matter what happens.
If you won't agree to that, she'll
apply for a divorce regardless of
the President's wishes. I can't tell
her she's wrong, because she isn't
Why is she leaving me?
(it's very hard for him
to say all this)
She hasn't any friends left sine
you started this oil business, and
she never sees you.
Do you think the "Enquirer" shouldn't
have campaigned against the oil leases?
You might have made the whole thing
No answer from Kane.
It isn't just that the President
was her uncle - everyone she knows,
all the people she's been brought
up with, everything she's ever been
taught to believe is important -
Still no answer from Kane.
There's no reason why this - this
savage personal note -
The personal note is all there is
to it. It's all there ever is to
it. It's all there every is to
anything! Stupidity in our government,
complacency and self-satisfaction
and unwillingness to believe that
anything done by a certain class of
people can be wrong - you can't
fight those things impersonally.
They're not impersonal crimes against
people. They're being done by actual
persons - with actual names and
positions and - the right of the
American people to own their own
country is not an academic issue, Brad,
that you debate - and then the judges
retire to return a verdict and the
winners give a dinner for the losers.
You almost convince me.
I'm just drunk enough to tell you the
truth. I have to be a little drunk
for that because I'm a coward. You
know that. That's why you keep me
You only associate with your inferiors,
Charlie. I guess that's why you ran
away from Emily. Because you can't
stand the company of your equals. You
don't like to admit they exist - the
other big people in your world are dead.
I told you that.
Kane looks at Leland, but Leland can't be stopped now. He speaks very quietly - no poison in his voice - no personal indignation - as though he were explaining the nature of a disease.
You talk about the people of the
United States as though they
belonged to you. When you find
out they don't think they are,
you'll lose interest. You talk about
giving them their rights as though
you could make a present of liberty.
Remember the working man? You used
to defend him quite a good deal.
Well, he's turning into something
called organized labor and you don't
like that at all. And listen, when
your precious underprivileged really
get together - that's going to add
up to something bigger than - than
your privilege and then I don't know
what you'll do - sail away to a desert
island, probably, and lord it over the
Are you finished?
Now, will you let me go to Chicago?
(with a little smile)
You're not going to like it in
Chicago. They wind comes howling
in from the lake. And there's
practically no opera season at all -
and the Lord only knows whether
they've ever heard of Lobster Newburg -
That's all right.
(he won't be charmed
out of his duty)
What are you going to do about Emily?
(his face hardning a
Nothing - if she dosen't love me -
Leland has risen. He speaks as he turns away, starting towards the door.
You want love on your own terms,
don't you, Charlie -
(he stops - his back
turned to Kane)
Love according to your own rules.
And if anything goes wrong and
you're hurt - then the game stops,
and you've got to be soothed and
nursed, no matter what else is
happening - and no matter who else
It's simpler than that, Brad. A
society girl can't stand the gaff,
that's all. Other things are
important to her - social position,
what they're saying on the front
porches at Southampton, is it going
to be embarrassing to meet somebody
or the other at dinner -
Leland has turned, taking his eye again. Now Kane stops and smiles.
She can leave me. As a matter of
fact, I've already left her. Don't
worry, Brad - I'll live.
I know you will.
(with all his charm)
Hey, Brad! I've been analyzed an
awful lot tonight - let's have
Leland shakes his head. Kane lifts his glass.
To love on my terms. Those are
the only terms anybody knows ...
EXT. ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT - 1902
Kane, Leland, and a couple of policemen make their way out of the front toward a hansom cab.
A VOICE FROM
A rock is thrown. It hits Leland on the face. A little blood flows. Kane doesn't see it at first. Then when he's in the hansom cab, he turns and notices it.
Are you hurt?
Leland has a handkerchief to his face.
No. I wish you'd go home to Emily.
She'll be pretty upset by all this -
She still loves you -
The crowd, pushed by the cops, retreats in the background, but still hard by.
You still want to be transferred
to the other paper?
(leaning out of the
Well, you've been getting a pretty
low salary here in New York. It
seems to me that the new dramatic
critic of our Chicago paper should
get what he's worth.
(almost as a question)
(with handkerchief still
attached to his face)
I couldn't possibly live on as
little as that, Charlie. We'll let
the salary stay where it is.
The hansom cab starts up. We hold on Leland's face as we
INT. KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - KANE'S BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING - 1902
Emily is in bed, a damp cloth over her temples. Kane is standing at the foot of the bed. The baby's bed is in a corner of the room. The baby's nurse is standing near the crib, a nurse for Emily is near her. Kane is looking fixedly on Emily, who is staring tiredly at the ceiling.
(to the nurse)
Excuse us a moment, please.
The nurse looks at Emily.
I said, excuse us a moment.
The nurse, unwilling, leaves.
I've been talking to Leland. Emily -
You can't leave me now - not now -
It isn't what it would do to my
changes in politics, Emily - That
isn't it - They were talking of
running me for governor, but now,
of course, we'll have to wait -
It isn't that, Emily - It's just -
the president is your uncle and
they're saying I killed him.
That story about the murderer having
a copy of the "Enquirer" in his
pocket - the "Chronicle" made that up
out of whole cloth - Emily, please -
He's going to be all right, you know,
he's going to recover -
If it will make you any happier, we
had nine pages of advertising
cancelled in the first mail this
morning. Bernstein is afraid to open
any more letters. He -
He stops. He sees that he's getting no place with Emily.
What do you expect me to do? What
in the world -
He waits for her to continue.
Do you really think -
(she can't continue)
Those threatening letters, can
they really -
She sits up and looks at the crib. She almost continues to look at the crib, with almost unseeing eyes.
They won't do anything to Junior,
Anonymous letter writers - I've
got guards in front of the house,
and I'm going to arrange -
(turning her face
Please don't talk any more, Charles.
Kane is about to say something, but bites his lips instead. Emily keeps staring at him.
Have they heard from father yet?
Has he seen -
I've tried to tell you, Emily.
The President's going to be all
right. He had a comfortable night.
There's no danger of any kind.
Emily nods several times. There is an uncomforable silence. Suddenly there is a cry from the crib. Emily leaps from the bed and rushes to him. She bends over the crib.
Here I am, darling... Darling!...
Darling, it's all right... Mother's
Emily - you musn't leave me now -
you can't do that to me.
They won't hurt you, darling.
Mother's with you! Mother's looking
Kane, unwanted, ignored, looks on. Tightening his lips, he walks out.
INT. KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT
By the desk light, Kane is seen working with his usual intensity, Reilly standing beside him at the desk.
We'll withdraw support completely.
Mr. Leland sent back that check.
You made it out to him last week
after he left for Chicago.
Oh, yes, the bonus.
It was for twenty-five thousand
Kane is perplexed and worried, but we can see in a moment his mind will be on something else.
He sent it back torn up - all
torn up into little bits, and
he enclosed something else - I
can't make it out.
Kane doesn't answer. Reilly goes on. He has brought out a piece of paper and is reading it.
It says here, "A Declaration of
(he still reads)
"I will provide the people of this
city with a daily paper that will
tell all the news honestly" -
Kane has looked up sharply. Reilly, sensing his look, stops reading and meets his eye. Slowly, Kane reaches out his hand. Reilly hands him the piece of paper. Without reading it, Kane tears it up, throws it into the wastebasket at his side.
INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910
The evening of the final great rally. These shots remind us of and are identical with and supplementary to the "News Digest" scenes earlier. The vast auditorium with a huge picture of Kane, cheering crowds, etc. Emily and Junior are to be seen in the front of a box. Emily is tired and wears a forced smile on her face. Junior, now aged nine and a half, is eager, bright-eyed and excited. Kane is just finishing his speech.
It is no secret that I entered
upon this campaign with no thought
that I could be elected Governor of
this state! It is now no secret that
every straw vote, every independent
pole, shows that I will be elected.
And I repeat to you - my first official
act as Governor will be to appoint a
special District Attorney to arrange
for the indictment, prosecution and
conviction of Boss Edward G. Rogers!
Terrific screaming and cheering from the audience.
INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910
The Speaker's Platform. Numerous officials and civic leaders are crowding around Kane. Cameramen take flash photographs with old-fashioined flash powder.
FIRST CIVIC LEADER
Great speech, Mr. Kane.
One of the most notable public
utterances ever made by a candidate
in this state -
Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you.
He looks up and notices that the box in which Emily and the boy were sitting is now empty. He starts toward the rear of the platform, through the press of people, Reilly approaches him.
A wonderful speech, Mr. Kane.
Kane pats him on the shoulder as he walks along.
I just got word from Buffalo, Mr.
Kane. They're going to throw you
the organization vote - and take a
chance maybe you'll give them a
This is said almost inquiringly, as if he were hoping that Kane would give him some assurance that McDonald is not making a mistake. There is no answer from Kane.
On an independent ticket there's
never been anything like it! If
the election were held today, you'd
be elected by a hundred thousand
votes - and every day between now
and November 7th is just going to
add to your majority.
Kane is very pleased. He continues with Reilly slowly through the crowd - a band playing off. Bernstein joins him.
It does seem too good to be true,
doesn't it, Mr. Bernstein?
Rogers isn't even pretending. He
isn't just scared anymore. He's
sick. Frank Norris told me last
night he hasn't known Rogers to be
that worried in twenty-five years.
I think it's beginning to dawn on
Mr. Rogers that I mean what I say.
With Mr. Rogers out of the way, Reilly,
I think we may really begin to hope
for a good government in this state.
Well, Mr. Bernstein?
(clearly not meaning it)
It's wonderful, Mr. Kane. Wonderful.
You don't really think so?
I do. I do. I mean, since you're
running for Governor - and you want
to be elected - I think it's wonderful
you're going to be elected. Only -
- Can I say something?
Please, Mr. Bernstein.
Well, the way I look at it -
(comes out with it)
- You want to know what I really
think would be wonderful?
Kane indicates he is to proceed.
Well, you're running for Governor
and going to be elected - my idea
is how wonderful it would be if you
don't run at all and don't get
EXT. ONE OF THE EXITS - MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910
Emily and Junior are standing, waiting for Kane.
Is Pop Governor yet, Mom?
Just then, Kane appears, with Reilly and several other men. Kane rushes toward Emily and Junior, as the men politely greet Emily.
Hello, Butch! Did you like your
old man's speech?
Hello, Pop! I was in a box. I
could hear every word.
I saw you!
(he has his arm around
Good night, gentlemen.
There are good nights. Kane's car is at the curb and he starts to walk toward it with Junior and Emily.
I'm sending Junior home in the
car, Charles - with Oliver -
But I'd arranged to go home with
There's a call I want you to
make with me, Charles.
It can wait.
No, it can't.
(she bends down and
Good night, darling.
Good night, Mom.
The driver is holding the rear door open as Emily guides Junior in.
(as car starts to
What's this all about, Emily? I've
had a very tiring day and -
It may not be about anything at all.
A cab has pulled up.
Emily nods to him.
I intend to find out.
I insist on being told exactly what
you have in mind.
I'm going to -
(she looks at a slip
of paper in her hand)
- 185 West 74th Street.
Kane's reaction indicates that the address definitely means something to him.
If you wish, you can come with me...
I'll go with you.
He opens the door and she enters the cab. He follows her.
INT. CAB - NIGHT - 1910
Kane and Emily. He looks at her, in search of some kind of enlightenment. Her face is set and impassive.
EXT. AND INT. APARTMENT HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT - 1910
Kane and Emily, in front of an apartment door. Emily is pressing the bell.
I had no idea you had this flair
for melodrama, Emiliy.
Emily does not answer. The door is opened by a maid, who recognizes Kane.
Come in, Mr. Kane, come in.
They enter, Emily first.
INT. SUSAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - 1910
There is first a tiny reception room, through which an open door shows the living room. Kane and Emily enter from the hallway and cross to the living room. As they enter, Susan rises from a chair. The other person in the room - a big, heavyset man, a little past middle age - stays where he is, leaning back in his chair, regarding Kane intently.
It wasn't my fault, Charlie. He
made me send your wife a note.
He said I'd - oh, he's been saying
the most terrible things, I didn't
know what to do... I -
(she catches sight of Emily)
Good evening, Mr. Kane.
I don't suppose anybody would
introduce us. Mrs. Kane, I am
How do you do?
I came here - and I made Mr. Kane
come with me...
(she consults the note
in her hand without
reading it again)
because I recieved this note -
I made Miss - Miss Alexander send
you the note. She was a little
unwilling at first -
(he smiles grimly)
but she did it.
I can't tell you the things he
said, Charlie. You haven't got
any idea -
(turning on Rogers)
Rogers, I don't think I will
postpone doing something about
you until I'm elected.
(he starts toward him)
To start with, I'll break your neck.
(not giving way an inch)
Maybe you can do it and maybe you
can't, Mr. Kane.
(he stops to look at her)
Your - your breaking this man's
(she is clearly disgusted)
would scarcely explain this note -
(glancing at the note)
Serious consequences for Mr. Kane -
for myself, and for my son. What
does this note mean, Miss -
I'm Susan Alexander.
I know what you think, Mrs. Kane,
What does this note mean, Miss
She doesn't know, Mrs. Kane. She
just sent it - because I made her
see it wouldn't be smart for her
not to send it.
In case you don't know, Emily,
this - this gentleman -
(he puts a world of
scorn into the word)
I'm not a gentleman, Mrs. Kane,
and your husband is just trying
to be funny calling me one. I don't
even know what a gentleman is.
(tensely, with all the
hatred and venom in the
You see, my idea of a gentleman, Mrs.
Kane - well, if I owned a newspaper
and if I didn't like the way somebody
else was doing things - some politican,
say - I'd fight them with everything
I had. Only I wouldn't show him in
a convict suit, with stripes - so his
children could see the picture in the
paper. Or his mother.
(he has to control himself
from hurling himself at Kane)
It's pretty clear - I'm not a gentleman.
You're a cheap, crooked grafter -
and your concern for your children
and your mother -
Anything you say, Mr. Kane. Only
we're talking now about what you
are. That's what the note is about,
Mrs. Kane. Now I'm going to lay
all my cards on the table. I'm
fighting for my life. Not just my
political life. My life. If your
husband is elected governor -
I'm going to be elected governor.
And the first thing I'm going to
Let him finish, Charles.
I'm protecting myself every way I
know how, Mrs. Kane. This last
week, I finally found out how I can
stop your husband from being elected.
If the people of this state learn what
I found out this week, he wouldn't have
a chance to - he couldn't be elected
Dog Catcher. Well, what I'm interested
in is seeing that he's not elected. I
don't care whether they know what I
know about him. Let him keep right on
being the Great, Noble, Moral -
(he stresses the world)
Champeen of the people. Just as long
I think I understand, Mr. Rogers, but
I wonder if -
(she leaves her sentence
You can't blackmail me, Rogers, you
Charlie, he said, unless you withdrew
your name -
That's the chance I'm willing to
give you, Mr. Kane. More of a
chance than you'd give me. Unless
you make up your mind by tomorrow
that you're so sick that you've got
to go away for a year or two - Monday
morning every paper in this State
will carry the story I'm going to give
Kane starts to stare at him intently.
What story, Mr. Rogers?
The story about him and Miss Alexander,
Emily looks at Kane.
There is no story. It's all lies.
Mr. Kane is just -
I've had a dozen men doing nothing
but run this thing down - we've got
evidence enough to - well, the
evidence would stand up in any court
of law. You want me to give you the
evidence, Mr. Kane?
You do anything you want to do.
The people of this state can decide
which one of us to trust. If you
want to know, they've already decided.
The election Tuesday'll be only -
Mrs. Kane, I'm not asking you to
believe me. I'd like to show you -
You don't have to show me anything,
Mr. Rogers. I believe you.
I'd rather Mr. Kane withdrew without
having to get the story published.
Not that I care about him. But I'd
be better off that way -
- and so would you, Mrs. Kane.
What about me?
He said my name'd be dragged through
the mud. He said everywhere I'd go
from now on -
There seems to be only one decision
you can make, Charles. I'd say that
it has been made for you.
I suppose the details can be arranged
tomorrow, Mr. Rogers. About the
statements by the doctors -
Have you gone completely mad, Emily?
Emily looks at him.
You don't think I'm going to let
this blackmailer intimidate me,
I don't see what else you can do,
Charles. If he's right - and the
papers publish this story he has -
Oh, they'll publish it all right.
But that's not going to stop me -
Charles, this - this story - doesn't
concern only you. I'll be in it,
too, won't I?
(squirming a bit)
I suppose so, but - I'm not afraid
of the story. You can't tell me
that the voters of this state -
I'm not interested in the voters
of this state right now. I am
interested in - well, Junior, for
Charlie! If they publish this
They won't. Goodnight, Mr. Rogers.
(she starts out)
There's nothing more to be said,
Oh yes, there is.
I don't think so. Are you coming,
She looks at him. He starts to work himself into a rage.
There's only one person in the
world to decide what I'm going
to do - and that's me. And if
you think - if any of you think -
You decided what you were going
to do, Charles - some time ago.
(she looks at Susan)
You can't always have it your own
way, regardless of anything else
that may have happened.
Come on, Charles.
Go on! Get out! I can fight this
thing all alone!
You're making a bigger fool of
yourself than I thought you would,
Mr. Kane. You're licked. Why don't
(turning on him)
Get out! I've got nothing to talk
to you about. If you want to see
me, have the Warden write me a letter.
(he starts toward the door)
(starting to cry)
Charlie, you're just excited. You
don't realize -
I know exactly what I'm doing.
(he is screaming)
Charles, if you don't listen to
reason, it may be too late -
Too late for what? Too late for
you and this -
(he can't find the adjective)
this public thief to take the love
of the people of this state away
from me? Well, you won't do it,
I tell you. You won't do it!
Charlie, there are other things
to think of.
(a sly look comes into
Your son - you don't want him to
read in the papers -
It is too late now, Charles.
(rushes to the door
and opens it)
Get out, both of you!
(rushes to him)
Charlie, please don't -
What are you waiting here for?
Why don't you go?
She walks out. Rogers stops as he gets directly in front of Kane.
You're the greatest fool I've
ever known, Kane. If it was
anybody else, I'd say what's
going to happen to you would be
a lesson to you. Only you're
going to need more than one lesson.
And you're going to get more than
(he walks past Kane)
Don't you worry about me. I'm
Charles Foster Kane. I'm no cheap,
crooked politician, trying to save
himself from the consequences of
his crimes -
INT. APARTMENT HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT - 1910
Camera angling toward Kane from other end of the hall. Rogers and Emily are already down the hall, moving toward foreground. Kane in apartment doorway background.
I'm going to send you to Sing
Sing, Rogers. Sing Sing!
Kane is trembling with rage as he shakes his fist at Rogers's back. Susan, quieter now, has snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder as they stand in the doorway.
The "Chronicle" front page with photograph (as in the "News Digest") revealing Kane's relations with Susan.
Front page of "Chronicle" - Headline which reads:
Front page of "Enquirer" - Headline which reads:
FRAUD AT POLLS
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT - 1910
Emily is opening the door for Leland.
Hello, Brad -
He pauses. Leland comes in. Emily closes the door.
I'm sorry I sent for you, Brad -
I didn't -
Chicago is pretty close to New
York nowadays - only twenty hours -
She doesn't have anything to say.
I'm glad to see you.
She smiles at him and we know that there isn't anybody else in the world for her to smile at. She's too grateful to talk.
Are all the returns in?
Leland puts his hat unconsciously on his coat by the newspaper.
Let me see it.
Leland takes the newspaper out of his pocket and hands it to her. She takes it. We see the headline, not an insert, but it registers. It reads: "Fraud at Polls." Emily is looking at the paper with unseeing eyes, and a little smile.
(after a pause)
Almost two to one -
I'm surprised he got the votes he
Why should anyone vote for him?
He's made it quite clear to the
people what he thinks of them.
Children - to be told one thing
one day, something else the next,
as the whim seizes him. And they're
supposed to be grateful and love
and adore him - because he sees to
it that they get cheap ice and only
pay a nickel in the street cars.
Emily, you're being - a little
unfair - You know what I think of
Charles' behavior - about your
personal lives -
There aren't any personal lives
for people like us. He made that
very clear to me nine years ago -
If I'd thought of my life with
Charles as a personal life, I'd
have left him then -
I know that, Emily -
(on top of Leland)
Maybe I should have - the first
time he showed me what a mad dog
he really was.
(on the cue "dog")
Emily, you -
Brad, I'm - I'm not an old woman
It's - all over -
He stops himself.
(after a pause)
I know it is, Brad -
He's paying for it, Emily. Those
returns tonight - he's finished.
- socially, everywhere, I guess.
I don't know about the papers, but -
If you're asking me to sympathize
with him, Brad, you're wasting
There's only one person I'm sorry
for, as a matter of fact. That -
that shabby little girl. I'm really
sorry for her, Brad.
Front page Chicago "Enquirer," with photograph proclaiming that Susan Alexander opens at new Chicago Opera House in "Thais," as in "News Digest."
On soundtrack during above we hear the big, expectant murmur of an opening night audience and the noodling of the orchestra.
INT. CHICAGO OPERA HOUSE - NIGHT - SET FOR "THAIS" - 1914
The camera is just inside the curtain, angling upstage. We see the set for "Thais" - the principals in place - stage managers, stage hands, etc., and in the center of all this, in an elaborate costume, looking very small and very lost, is Susan. She is almost hysterical with fright. Maids, singing teacher, and the rest are in attendance. Her throat is sprayed. Applause is heard at the opening of the shot, and now the orchestra starts thunderously. The curtain starts to rise - the camera with it - the blinding glare of the foots moves up Susan's body and hits her face. She squints and starts to sing. Camera continues on up with the curtain, up past Susan, up the full height of the proscenium arch and then on up into the gridiron into a world of ropes, brick walls and hanging canvas - Susan's voice still heard - but faintly. The camera stops at the top of the gridiron as the curtain stops. Two typical stage hands fill the frame. They are looking down on the stage below. Some of the reflected light gleams on their faces. They look at each other. One of them puts his hand to his nose.
INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Leland, as in the same scene in the Bernstein sequence, is sprawled across his typewriter, his head on the keys. The paper is gone from the roller. Leland stirs and looks up drunkenly, his eyes encountering Bernstein, who stands beside him (also as in the previous scene).
Hello, Mr. Leland.
Leland makes a terrific effort to pull himself together. He straightens and reaches for the keys - then sees the paper is gone from the machine.
Where is it - where's my notice?
I've got to finish it!
Mr. Kane is finishing it.
(painfully, he rises
to his feet)
Where is he?
During all this, the sound of a typewriter has been heard off - a busy typewriter. Leland's eyes follow the sound. Slowly he registers Kane in the City Room beyond. This is almost the same shot as in the previous Bernstein story.
INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914
Kane, in white tie and shirt sleeves, is typing away at a machine, his fingers working briskly and efficiently, his face, seen by the desk light before him, set in a strange half-smile.
Leland stands in the door of his office, staring across at him.
I suppose he's fixing it up - I
know I'd never get that through.
(moving to his side)
Mr. Kane is finishing your piece
the way you started it.
Leland turns incredulously to Bernstein.
He's writing a roast like you wanted
it to be -
(then suddnely - with a
kind of quiet passion
rather than a triumph)
- I guess that'll show you.
Leland picks his way across the City Room to Kane's side. Kane goes on typing, without looking up. After a pause, Kane speaks.
Hello, Charlie -
I didn't know we were speaking.
Kane stops typing, but doesn't turn.
Sure, we're speaking, Brad -
He starts typing again, the expression on his face doesn't change.
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940
Thompson and Leland on the roof, which is now deserted. It is getting late. The sun has just about gone down.
Well, that's about all there is -
and I'm getting chills. Hey, nurse!
Five years ago, he wrote from that
place of his down South -
(as if trying to think)
- you know. Shangri-la? El Dorado?
Sloppy Joe's? What's the name of
that place? You know... All right.
Xanadu. I knew what it was all the
time. You caught on, didn't you?
I guess maybe I'm not as hard to
see through as I think. Anyway, I
never even answered his letter.
Maybe I should have. I guess he was
pretty lonely down there those last
years. He hadn't finished it when
she left him - he never finished it -
he never finished anything. Of course,
he built it for her -
That must have been love.
I don't know. He was disappointed in
the world. So he built one of his
own - An absolute monarchy - It was
something bigger than an opera house
(lowers his voice)
Say, I'll tell you one thing you can
do for me, young fellow.
On your way out, stop at a cigar
store, will you, and send me up a
couple of cigars?
Sure, Mr. Leland. I'll be glad to.
A Nurse appears.
Hello, Mr. Leland.
I'm ready to go in now. You know
when I was a young man, there was
an impression around that nurses
were pretty. It was no truer then
than it is now.
Here, let me take your arm, Mr. Leland.
All right, all right.
(he has begun to move
forward on the Nurse's
arm; turning to Thompson)
You won't forget, will you, about
the cigars? And tell them to wrap
them up to look like toothpaste,
or something, or they'll stop them
at the desk. That young doctor I
was telling you about, he's got an
idea he wants to keep me alive.
EXT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET IN ATLANTIC CITY - EARLY DAWN - 1940
Neon sign on the roof:
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
glows on the dark screen as in the previous sequence earlier in the script. Behind the lights and through them, we see a nasty early morning. Camera as before, moves through the lights of the sign and down on the skylight, through which is seen Susan at her regular table, Thompson seated across from her.
Very faintly during this, idle piano music playing.
INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - EARLY DAWN - 1940
Susan and Thompson are facing each other. The place is almost deserted. Susan is sober. On the other side of the room, somebody is playing a piano.
How do you want to handle the whole
thing - ask questions?
I'd rather you just talked. Anything
that comes into your mind - about
yourself and Mr. Kane.
You wouldn't want to hear a lot of
what comes into my mind about myself
and Mr. Charlie Kane.
Susan is thinking.
How did you meet him?
I had a toothache.
Thompson looks at her.
That was thiry years ago - and I
still remember that toothache.
Boy! That toothache was just
driving me crazy...
EXT. CORNER DRUG STORE AND STREET ON THE WEST SIDE OF NEW YORK - NIGHT - 1909
Susan, aged twenty, neatly but cheaply dressed in the style of the period, is leaving the drug store. It's about 8 o'clock at night. With a large, man-sized handkerchief pressed to her cheek, she is in considerable pain. The street is wet - after a recent rain.
She walks a few steps towards the middle of the block, and can stand it no longer. She stops, opens a bottle of Oil of Cloves that she has in her hand, applies some to her finger, and rubs her gums.
She walks on, the pain only a bit better. Four or five houses farther along, she comes to what is clearly her own doorway - a shabby, old four-story apartment house. She turns toward the doorway, which is up a tiny stoop, about three steps.
As she does so, Kane, coming from the opposite direction, almost bumps into her and turns to his left to avoid her. His shoulder bumps hers and she turns. As she does so, Kane, forced to change his course, steps on the loose end of a plank which covers a puddle in the bad sidewalk. The plank rises up and cracks him on the knee, also covering him with mud.
(hopping up and down
and rubbing his knee)
Susan, taking her handkerchief from her jaw, roars with laughter.
It's not funny.
He bites his lip and rubs his knee again. Susan tries to control her laughter, but not very successfully. Kane glares at her.
I'm sorry, mister - but you do
look awful funny.
Suddenly, the pain returns and she claps her hand to her jaw.
What's the matter with you?
He has been rubbing his clothes with his handkerchief.
You've got some on your face.
If these sidewalks were kept in
condition - instead of the money
going to some cheap grafter -
Susan starts to laugh again.
What's funny now?
You are. You look like you've
been making mud pies.
In the middle of her smile, the pain returns.
You're no Venus de Milo.
(points to the downstair
If you want to come in and wash
your face - I can get you some
hot water to get that dirt off
your trousers -
Susan starts, with Kane following her.
INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - NIGHT - 1909
It's in moderate disorder. The Mansbach gas lights are on. It's not really a classy room, but it's exactly what you're entitled to in 1910, for $5.00 a week including breakfast.
There is a bed, a couple of chairs, a chiffonier, and a few personal belongings on the chiffonier. These include a photograph of a gent and lady, obviously Susan's parents, and a few objets d'art. One, "At the Japanese Rolling Ball Game at Coney Island," and - perhaps this is part of the Japanese loot - the glass globe with the snow scene Kane was holding in his hand in the first sequence.
Susan comes into the room, carrying a basin, with towels over her arm. Kane is waiting for her. She doesn't close the door.
(by way of explanation)
My landlady prefers me to keep
this door open when I have a
(starts to put the basin down)
She's a very decent woman.
(making a face)
Kane rushes to take the basin from her, putting it on the chiffonier. To do this, he has to shove the photograph to one side of the basin. Susan grabs the photograph as it is about to fall over.
Hey, you should be more careful.
That's my ma and pa.
I'm sorry. They live here, too?
No. They've passed on.
Again she puts her hand to her jaw.
Where's the soap?
In the water.
Kane fishes the soap out of the water. It is slippery, however, and slips out of his hand, hitting him in the chest before it falls to the floor. Susan laughs as he bends over.
(starting to wash
You're very easily amused.
I always like to see the funny
side of things. No sense crying
when you don't have to. And you're
so funny. Looking at you, I forget
all about my toothache.
Her face distorts in pain again.
I can't stay here all night chasing
your pain away.
I know... But you do look so silly.
Kane, with soaped hands, has rubbed his face and now cannot open his eyes, for fear of getting soap in them.
Where's the towel?
On the chiffonier. Here.
(rubs his face dry)
(on her way to closet)
I've got a brush in the closet. As
soon as the mud on your trousers is
all dry - you just brush it off.
I'll get these streets fixed, if
it's the last thing I do.
Susan comes out of the closet. She holds out the brush with her left hand, her right hand to her jaw in real distress.
(takes the brush)
You are in pain, aren't you, you
Susan can't stand it anymore and sits down in a chair, bent over, whimpering a bit.
I wish there was something I could -
He stops and thinks. Susan, her face averted, is still trying hard not to cry.
I've got an idea, young lady.
(there is no response)
Turn around and look at me.
(there is still no response)
I said, turn around and look at
me, young lady.
Slowly, Susan turns.
Did you ever see anybody wiggle
both his ears at the same time?
It takes a second for Susan to adapt herself to this.
(he wiggles his ears)
It took me two solid years at the
finest boys' school in the world
to learn that trick. The fellow
who taught me is President of
He's still wiggling his ears as Susan starts to smile.
That's it! Smile!
Susan smiles, very broadly.
INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - NIGHT - 1910
Closeup of a duck, camera pulls back showing it to be a shadowgraph on the wall, made by Kane, who is now in his shirt sleeves. It is about an hour later than preceding sequence.
No. But you're close.
You're getting farther away all
the time. It's a duck.
Excuse me, Mr. Kane. I know this
takes a lot of nerve, but - who are
you? I mean - I'm pretty ignorant,
I guess you caught on to that -
(looks squarely at her)
You really don't know who I am?
No. That is, I bet it turns out
I've heard your name a million times,
only you know how it is -
But you like me, don't you? Even
though you don't know who I am?
You've been wonderful! I can't tell
you how glad I am you're here, I don't
know many people and -
And I know too many people. Obviously,
we're both lonely.
Would you like to know where I was
going tonight - when you ran into me
and ruined my Sunday clothes?
I didn't run into you and I bet
they're not your Sunday clothes.
You've probably got a lot of clothes.
(as if defending himself
from a terrible onslaught)
I was only joking!
This evening I was on my way to
the Western Manhattan Warehouses -
in search of my youth.
Susan is bewildered.
You see, my mother died, too - a
long time ago. Her things were
put into storage out west because
I had no place to put them then.
I still haven't. But now I've sent
for them just the same. And tonight
I'd planned to make a sort of
sentimental journey -
- to the scenes of my youth - my
childhood, I suppose - to look again
(he changes mood slightly)
- and now -
Kane doesn't finish. He looks at Susan. Silence.
Who am I? Well, let's see. Charles
Foster Kane was born in New Salem,
Colorado in eighteen six -
(he stops on the word
"sixty" - obviously a
I run a couple of newspapers. How
Oh, me -
How old did you say you were?
I didn't say.
I didn't think you did. If you
had, I wouldn't have asked you
again, because I'd have remembered.
Pretty old. I'll be twenty-two in
(looks at her silently
for a moment)
That's a ripe old age - What do
I work at Seligman's.
Is that what you want to do?
I want to be a singer.
(she thinks for a moment)
I mean, I didn't. Mother did for
What happened to the singing?
You're not in a show, are you?
Oh, no! Nothing like that. Mother
always thought - she used to talk
about Grand Opera for me. Imagine!
An American girl, for one thing -
and then my voice isn't really that
kind anyway, it's just that Mother -
you know what mothers are like.
A sudden look comes over Kane's face.
As a matter of fact, I do sing a
(points to the piano)
Would you sing for me?
Oh, you wouldn't want to hear
Yes, I would. That's why I asked.
Well, I -
Don't tell me your toothache is
bothering you again?
Oh, no, that's all gone.
Then you have no alibi at all.
Susan, with a tiny ladylike hesitancy, goes to the piano and sings a polite song. Sweetly, nicely, she sings with a small, untrained voice. Kane listens. He is relaxed, at ease with the world.
INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - EARLY DAWN - 1940
Susan tosses down a drink, then goes on with her story.
I did a lot of singing after that.
I sang for Charlie - I sang for
teachers at a hundred bucks an
hour - the teachers got that, I
What did you get?
(glares at him balefully)
What do you mean?
Thompson doesn't answer.
I didn't get a thing. Just the
music lessons. That's all there
was to it.
He married you, didn't he?
He was in love with me. But he
never told me so until after it
all came out in the papers about
us - and he lost the election and
that Norton woman divorced him.
What about that apartment?
He wanted me to be comfortable -
Oh, why should I bother? You don't
believe me, but it's true. It just
happens to be true. He was really
interested in my voice.
What are you smiling for? What do
you think he built that opera house
for? I didn't want it. I didn't
want to sing. It was his idea -
everything was his idea - except my
INT. LIVING ROOM OF KANE'S HOUSE IN NEW YORK - DAY - 1913
Susan is singing. Matisti, her voice teacher, is playing the piano. Kane is seated nearby. Matisti stops.
Your job isn't to give Mrs. Kane
your opinion of her talents.
You're supposed to train her voice.
But, it is impossible. I will be
the laughingstock of the musical
world! People will say -
If you're interested in what people
say, Signor Matisti, I may be able
to enlighten you a bit. The
newspapers, for instance. I'm an
authority on what the papers will
say, Signor Matisti, because I own
eight of them between here and San
Francisco... It's all right, dear.
Signor Matisti is going to listen to
reason. Aren't you, maestro?
(he looks him square
in the eyes)
Mr. Kane, how can I persuade you -
There is a silence. Matisti rises.
I knew you'd see it my way.
INT. CHICAGO OPERA HOUSE - NIGHT - 1914
It is the same opening night - it is the same moment as before - except taht the camera is now upstage angling toward the audience. The curtain is down. We see the same tableau as before - the terrified and trembling Susan, the apprehensive principals, the maids and singing teachers, the stage hands. As the dissolve commences, there is the sound of applause (exactly as before) and now as the dissolve completes itself, the orchestra breaks frighteningly into opening chords of the music - the stage is cleared - Susan is left alone, terribly alone. The curtain rises. The glare of the footlights jump into the image. The curtain is now out of the picture and Susan starts to sing. Beyond her, we see the prompter's box, containing the anxious face of the prompter. Beyond that, out in the darkness - an apprehensive conductor struggles with his task of coordinating an orchestra and an incompetent singer. Beyond that - dimly white shirt fronts and glistening bosoms for a couple of rows, and then deep and terrible darkness.
Closeup of Kane's face - seated in the audience - listening.
A sudden but perfectly correct lull in the music reveals a voice from the audience - a few words from a sentence - the kind of thing that often happens in a theatre -
- really pathetic.
Music crashes in and drowns out the rest of the sentence, but hundreds of people around the voice have heard it (as well as Kane) and there are titters which grow in volume.
Closeup of Susan's face - singing.
Closeup of Kane's face - listening.
There is the ghastly sound of three thousand people applauding as little as possible. Kane still looks. Then, near the camera, there is the sound of about a dozen people applauding very, very loudly. Camera moves back, revealing Bernstein and Reilly and other Kane stooges, seated around him, beating their palms together. The curtain is falling - as we can see by the light which shutters down off their faces.
The stage from Kane's angle.
The curtain is down - the lights glowing on it. Still, the polite applause dying fast. Nobody comes out for a bow.
Closeup of Kane - breathing heavily. Suddenly he starts to applaud furiously.
The stage from the audience again.
Susan appears for her bow. She can hardly walk. There is a little polite crescendo of applause, but it is sickly.
Closeup of Kane - still applauding very, very hard, his eyes on Susan.
The stage again.
Susan, finishing her bow, goes out through the curtains. The light on the curtain goes out and the houselights go on.
Closeup of Kane - still applauding very, very hard.
INT. STUDY - KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - DAY - 1914
Some weeks later. Susan, in a negligee, is at the window. There are the remains of her breakfast tray on a little table.
You don't propose to have yourself
made ridiculous? What about me?
I'm the one that has to do the singing.
I'm the one that gets the razzberries.
Last week, when I was shopping, one
of the salesgirls did an imitation of
me for another girl. She thought I
didn't see her, but - Charlie, you
might as well make up your mind to it.
This is one thing you're not going to
have your own way about. I can't sing
and you know it - Why can't you just -
Kane rises and walks toward her. There is cold menace in his walk. Susan shrinks a little as he draws closer to her.
My reasons satisfy me, Susan. You
seem unable to understand them. I
will not tell them to you again.
(he is very close to her)
You will continue with your singing.
His eyes are relentlessly upon her. She sees something in them that frightens her. She nods her head slowly, indicating surrender.
Front page of the "San Francisco Enquirer" containing a large portrait of Susan as Thais (as before). It is announced that Susan will open an independent season in San Francisco in "Thais." The picture remains constant but the names of the papers change from New York to St. Louis, to Los Angeles to Cleveland, to Denver to Philadelphia - all "Enquirers."
During all this, on the soundtrack, Susan's voice is heard singing her aria very faintly and far away, her voice cracking a little.
At the conclusion of this above, Susan has finished her song, and there is the same mild applause as before - over the sound of this, one man loudly applauding. This fades out as we -
INT. SUSAN'S BEDROOM - KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - LATE NIGHT - 1916
The camera angles across the bed and Susan's form towards the door, from the other side of which voices can be heard.
Let's have your keys, Raymond.
The key must be in the other side.
We'll knock the door down, Raymond.
Mrs. Kane -
Do what I say.
The door crashes open, light floods in the room, revealing Susan, fully dressed, stretched out on the bed, one arm dangling over the side. Kane rushes to her.
Get Dr. Corey.
He rushes out. Susan is breathing, but heavily. Kane loosens the lace collar at her throat.
INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - LATE NIGHT - 1916
A little later. All the lights are lit. Susan, in a nightgown, is in bed, asleep. Raymond and a nurse are just leaving the room, Raymond closing the door quietly behind him. Dr. Corey rises.
She'll be perfectly all right
in a day or two, Mr. Kane.
Kane nods. He has a smal bottle in his hand.
The nurse has complete instructions,
but if you care to talk to me at any
time, I should be only too glad - I
shall be here in the morning.
Thank you. I can't imagine how
Mrs. Kane came to make such a silly
mistake. The sedative Dr. Wagner
gave her is in a somewhat larger
bottle - I suppose the strain of
preparing for her trip has excited
and confused her.
I'm sure that's it.
(he starts out)
There are no objections to my
staying here with her, are there?
Not at all. I'd like the nurse
to be here, too.
Dr. Corey leaves. Kane settles himself in a chair next to the bed, looking at Susan. In a moment, the nurse enters, goes to a chair in the corner of the room, and sits down.
INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - DAY - 1916
Susan, utterly spent, is lying flat on her back in her bed. Kane is in the chair beside her. The nurse is out of the room.
(in a voice that comes
from far away)
I couldn't make you see how I felt,
Charlie. I just couldn't - I
couldn't go threw with singing again.
You don't know what it means to feel -
to know that people - that an audience
don't want you. That if you haven't
got what they want - a real voice -
they just don't care about you. Even
when they're polite - and they don't
laugh or get restless or - you know...
They don't want you. They just 0
That's when you've got to fight them.
That's when you've got to make them.
Susan's head turns and she looks at him silently with pathetic eyes.
(he leans over to
pat her hand)
You won't have to fight them anymore.
(he smiles a little)
It's their loss.
Gratefully, Susan, with difficulty, brings her other hand over to cover his.
EXT. ESTABLISHING SHOT OF XANADU - HALF BUILT
INT. THE GRAND HALL IN XANADU - 1925
Closeup of an enormous jigsaw puzzle. A hand is putting in the last piece. Camera moves back to reveal jigsaw puzzle spread out on the floor.
Susan is on the floor before her jigsaw puzzle. Kane is in an easy chair. Behind them towers the massive Renaissance fireplace. It is night and Baroque candelabra illuminates the scene.
(with a sigh)
What time is it?
There is no answer.
Charlie! I said, what time is it?
(looks up - consults
Half past eleven.
I mean in New York.
Half past eleven.
Yes. The bulldog's just gone to
Hurray for the bulldog!
Half past eleven! The shows have
just let out. People are going to
night clubs and restaurants. Of
course, we're different. We live in
a palace - at the end of the world.
You always said you wanted to live
in a palace.
Can't we go back, Charlie?
Kane looks at her smilingly and turns back to his work.
There is no answer.
If I promise to be a good girl!
Not to drink - and to entertain
all the governors and the senators
with dignity -
(she puts a slur into the word)
There is still no answer.
Another picture puzzle - Susan's hands fitting in a missing piece.
Another picture puzzle - Susan's hands fitting in a missing piece.
INT. XANADU - LIVING ROOM - DAY - 1928
Another picture puzzle.
Camera pulls back to show Kane and Susan in much the same positions as before, except that they are older.
One thing I've never been able
to understand, Susan. How do
you know you haven't done them
Susan shoots him an angry glance. She isn't amused.
It makes a whole lot more sense
than collecting Venuses.
You may be right - I sometimes
wonder - but you get into the
It's not a habit. I do it because
I like it.
I was referring to myself.
I thought we might have a picnic
tomorrow - it might be a nice
change after the Wild West party
tonight. Invite everybody to go
to the Everglades -
(throws down a piece of the
jigsaw puzzle and rises)
Invite everybody! Order everybody,
you mean, and make them sleep in
tents! Who wants to sleep in tents
when they have a nice room of their
own - with their own bath, where they
know where everything is?
Kane has looked at her steadily, not hostilely.
I thought we might invite everybody
to go on a picnic tomorrow. Stay
at Everglades overnight.
(he pats her lightly on
Please see that the arrangements are
Kane turns away - to Bernstein.
You remember my son, Mr. Bernstein.
On the soundtrack we hear the following lines of dialogue:
Oh, yes. How do you do, Mr. Kane?
During this, camera holds on closeup of Susan's face. She is very angry.
EXT. THE EVERGLADES CAMP - NIGHT - 1928
Long shot - of a number of classy tents.
INT. LARGE TENT - EVERGLADES CAMP - NIGHT - 1928
Two real beds have been set up on each side of the tent. A rather classy dressing table is in the rear, at which Susan is preparing for bed. Kane, in his shirt-sleeves, is in an easy chair, reading. Susan is very sullen.
I'm not going to put up with it.
Kane turns to look at her.
I mean it.
(she catches a slight
flicker on Kane's face)
Oh, I know I always say I mean it,
and then I don't - or you get me so
I don't do what I say I'm going to -
You're in a tent, darling. You're
not at home. And I can hear you
very well if you just talk in a
normal tone of voice.
I'm not going to have my guests
insulted, just because you think -
(in a rage)
- if people want to bring a drink
or two along on a picnic, that's
their business. You've got no right -
I've got more than a right as far
as you're concerned, Susan.
Oh, I'm sick and tired of you
telling me what I must and what I
You're my wife, Susan, and -
I'm not just your wife, I'm a
person all by myself - or I ought
to be. I was once. Sometimes you
get me to believing I never was.
We can discuss all this some other
time, Susan. Right now -
I'll discuss what's on my mind when
I want to. You're not going to keep
on running my life the way you want it.
As far as you're concerned, Susan,
I've never wanted anything - I don't
want anything now - except what you
What you want me to want, you mean.
What you've decided I ought to have
- what you'd want if you were me.
But you've never given me anything
Susan, I really think -
Oh, I don't mean the things you've
given me - that don't mean anything
to you. What's the difference
between giving me a bracelet or
giving somebody else a hundred thousand
dollars for a statue you're going to
keep crated up and never look at? It's
only money. It doesn't mean anything.
You're not really giving anything that
belongs to you, that you care about.
(he has risen)
Susan, I want you to stop this.
And right now!
Well, I'm not going to stop it. I'm
going to say exactly what I think.
You've never given me anything. You've
tried to buy me into giving you
something. You're -
(a sudden notion)
- it's like you were bribing me! That's
what it's been from the first moment I
met you. No matter how much it cost
you - your time, your money - that's
what you've done with everybody you've
ever known. Tried to bribe them!
She looks at him, with no lessening of her passion.
You're talking an incredible amount
of nonsense, Susan.
Whatever I do - I do - because I
Love! You don't love anybody! Me
or anybody else! You want to be
loved - that's all you want! I'm
Charles Foster Kane. Whatever you
want - just name it and it's yours!
Only love me! Don't expect me to
love you -
Without a word, Kane slaps her across the face. They look at each other.
You - you hit me.
Kane continues to look at her.
You'll never have another chance to
hit me again.
I never knew till this minute -
Susan, it seems to me -
Don't tell me you're sorry.
I'm not sorry.
I'm going to leave you.
No, you're not.
They look at each other, fixedly, but she doesn't give way. In fact, the camera on Kane's face shows the beginning of a startled look, as of one who sees something unfamiliar and unbelievable.
INT. KANE'S STUDY - XANADU - DAY - 1929
Kane is a the window looking out. He turns as he hears Raymond enter.
Mrs. Kane would like to see you,
Raymond waits as Kane hesitates.
Is Mrs. Kane -
(he can't finish)
Marie has been packing since morning,
Kane impetuously walks past him out of the room.
INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - XANADU - DAY - 1929
Packed suitcases are on the floor, Susan is completely dressed for travelling. Kane bursts into the room.
Tell Arnold I'm ready, Marie. He
can get the bags.
Yes, Mrs. Kane.
She leaves. Kane closes the door behind her.
Have you gone completely crazy?
Susan looks at him.
Don't you realize that everybody
here is going to know about this?
That you've packed your bags and
ordered the car and -
- And left? Of course they'll
hear. I'm not saying goodbye -
except to you - but I never
imagined that people wouldn't know.
Kane is standing against the door as if physically barring her way.
I won't let you go.
You can't stop me.
Kane keeps looking at her. Susan reaches out her hand.
Don't go, Susan.
Let's not start all over again,
Charlie. We've said everything
that can be said.
Susan, don't go! Susan, please!
He has lost all pride. Susan stops. She is affected by this.
You mustn't go, Susan. Everything'll
be exactly the way you want it. Not
the way I think you want it - by your
way. Please, Susan - Susan!
She is staring at him. She might weaken.
Don't go, Susan! You mustn't go!
You - you can't do this to me,
It's as if he had thrown ice water into her face. She freezes.
I see - it's you that this is
being done to! It's not me at
all. Not how I feel. Not what
it means to me.
I can't do this to you!
(she looks at him)
Oh, yes I can.
She walks out, past Kane, who turns to watch her go, like a very tired old man.
INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940
Susan and Thompson at a table. There is silence between them for a moment.
In case you've never heard of how
I lost all my money - and it was
plenty, believe me -
The last ten years have been tough
on a lot of people.
They haven't been tough on me. I
just lost my money. But when I
compare these last ten years with
the twenty I spent with him -
I feel kind of sorry for him, all
the same -
Don't you think I do?
You say you're going down to Xanadu?
Monday, with some of the boys from
the office. Mr. Rawlston wants the
whole place photographed carefully -
all that art stuff. We run a picture
magazine, you know -
I know. If you're smart, you'll
talk to Raymond. That's the butler.
You can learn a lot from him. He
knows where the bodies are buried.
She shivers. The dawn light from the skylight above has grown brighter, making the artificial light in the night club look particularly ghastly, revealing mercilessly every year of Susan's age.
Well, what do you know? It's morning
(looks at him)
You must come around and tell me the
story of your life sometime.
INT. GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940
An open door shows the pantry, which is dark. Thompson and Raymond are at a table. There is a pitcher of beer and a plate of sandwiches before them. Raymond drinks a glass of beer and settles back.
Yes, sir - yes, sir, I knew how to
handle the old man. He was kind of
queer, but I knew how to handle him.
Yeah. I guess he wasn't very happy
those last years - he didn't have
much reason to be -
INT. CORRIDOR AND TELEGRAPH OFFICE - XANADU - NIGHT - 1929
Raymond walking rapidly along corridor. He pushes open a door. At a desk in a fairly elaborate telegraph office sits a wireless operator named Fred. Near him at a telephone switchboard sits a female operator named Katherine (not that it matters).
Mr. Charles Foster Kane announced
today that Mrs. Charles Foster Kane
has left Xanadu, his Florida home,
under the terms of a peaceful and
friendly agreement with the intention
of filing suit for divorce at an
early date. Mrs. Kane said that she
does not intend to return to the
operatic career which she gave up a
few years after her marriage, at Mr.
Kane's request. Signed, Charles Foster
Fred finishes typing and then looks up.
Exclusive for immediate transmission.
Urgent priority all Kane papers.
There is the sound of the buzzer on the switchboard. Katherine puts in a plug and answers the call.
Yes ... yes... Mrs. Tinsdall -
(turns to Raymond)
It's the housekeeper.
She says there's some sort of
disturbance up in Mrs. Alexander's
room. She's afraid to go in.
INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - NIGHT - 1929
The housekeeper, Mrs. Tinsdall, and a couple of maids are near the door but are too afraid to be in front of it. From inside can be heard a terrible banging and crashing. Raymond hurries into scene, opens the door and goes in.
INT. SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - 1929
Kane, in a truly terrible and absolutely silent rage, is literally breaking up the room - yanking pictures, hooks and all off the wall, smashing them to bits - ugly, gaudy pictures - Susie's pictures in Susie's bad taste. Off of occasional tables, bureaus, he sweeps Susie's whorish accumulation of bric-a-brac.
Raymond stands in the doorway watching him. Kane says nothing. He continues with tremendous speed and surprising strength, still wordlessly, tearing the room to bits. The curtains (too frilly - overly pretty) are pulled off the windows in a single gesture, and from the bookshelves he pulls down double armloads of cheap novels - discovers a half-empty bottle of liquor and dashes it across the room. Finally he stops. Susie's cozy little chamber is an incredible shambles all around him.
He stands for a minute breathing heavily, and his eye lights on a hanging what-not in a corner which had escaped his notice. Prominent on its center shelf is the little glass ball with the snowstorm in it. He yanks it down. Something made of china breaks, but not the glass ball. It bounces on the carpet and rolls to his feet, the snow in a flurry. His eye follows it. He stoops to pick it up - can't make it. Raymond picks it up for him; hands it to him. Kane takes it sheepishly - looks at it - moves painfully out of the room into the corridor.
INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - 1929
Kane comes out of the door. Mrs. Tinsdall has been joined now by a fairly sizable turnout of servants. They move back away from Kane, staring at him. Raymond is in the doorway behind Kane. Kane looks at the glass ball.
Close the door, Raymond.
(he closes it)
Lock it - and keep it locked.
Raymond locks the door and comes to his side. There is a long pause - servants staring in silence. Kane gives the glass ball a gentle shake and starts another snowstorm.
(he is almost in a trance)
Yes, sir -
One of the younger servants giggles and is hushed up. Kane shakes the ball again. Another flurry of snow. He watches the flakes settle - then looks up. Finally, taking in the pack of servants and something of the situations, he puts the glass ball in his coat pocket. He speaks very quietly to Raymond, so quietly it only seems he's talking to himself.
Keep it locked.
He slowly walks off down the corridor, the servants giving way to let him pass, and watching him as he goes. He is an old, old man!
INT. KANE'S CHAPEL - XANADU - LATE AFTERNOON - 1939
As the dissolve completes itself, camera is travellling across the floor of the chapel past the crypts of Kane's father and mother - (marked: James Kane - 18- TO 19-; Mary Kane - 18- TO 19-;) - past a blank crypt, and then holding on the burial of Kane's son. A group of ordinary workmen in ordinary clothes are lowering a very expensive-looking coffin into its crypt. Kane stands nearby with Raymond, looking on. The men strain and grunt as the coffin bangs on the stone floor. The men now place over it a long marble slab on which is cut the words:
CHARLES FOSTER KANE II.
1907 - 1938
ONE OF THE
Sorry, Mr. Kane, we won't be able
to cement it till tommorrow. We -
Kane looks right through him. Raymond cuts him short.
The men tip their hats and shuffle out of the chapel. Kane raises his head, looks at the inscription on the wall. It is a little to one side of Junior's grave, directly over the blank place which will be occupied by Kane himself.
Do you like poetry, Raymond?
Can't say, sir.
Mrs. Kane liked poetry -
Raymond is now convinced that the old master is very far gone indeed - not to say off his trolley.
Yes, Mr. Kane.
Not my wife - not either of them.
He looks at the grave next to his son's - the grave marked "MARY KANE."
Oh, yes, sir.
(looking back up
at the wall)
Do you know what that is?
(more his keeper than
his butler now)
It's a wall you bought in China,
Persia. It belonged to a king.
How did you get him to part with
it, Mr. Kane?
He was dead... That's a poem. Do
you know what it means?
No, I don't, Mr. Kane.
I didn't used to be afraid of it.
A short pause. His eyes still on the wall, but looking through it, Kane quotes the translation.
The drunkeness of youth has passed like a fever,
And yet I saw many things,
Seeing my glory in the days of my glory,
I thought my power eternal
And the days of my life
Fixed surely in the years
But a whisper came to me
From Him who dies not.
I called my tributary kings together
And those who were proud rulers under me,
I opened the boxes of my treasure to them, saying:
"Take hills of gold, moutains of silver,
And give me only one more day upon the earth."
But they stood silent,
Looking upon the ground;
So that I died
And Death came to sit upon my throne.
O sons of men
You see a stranger upon the road,
You call to him and he does not step.
He is your life
Walking towards time,
Hurrying to meet the kings of India and China.
O sons of men
You are caught in the web of the world
And the spider Nothing waits behind it.
Where are the men with towering hopes?
They have changed places with owls,
Owls who have lived in tombs
And now inhabit a palace.
Kane still stares at the wall, through it, and way beyond it. Raymond looks at him.
INT. GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940
Thompson and Raymond. Raymond has finished his beer.
That's the whole works, right up
Sentimental fellow, aren't you?
Yes and no.
(getting to his feet)
Well, thanks a lot.
See what I mean? He was a little
gone in the head - the last couple
of years, anyway - but I knew how
to handle him.
That "Rosebud" - that don't mean
anything. I heard him say it.
He just said "Rosebud" and then he
dropped that glass ball and it broke
on the floor. He didn't say anything
about that, so I knew he was dead -
He said all kind of things I couldn't
make out. But I knew how to take care
Thompson doesn't answer.
You can go on asking questions if
you want to.
We're leaving tonight. As soon
as they're through photographing
the stuff -
Thompson has risen. Raymond gets to his feet and goes to the door, opening it for him.
Allow yourself plenty of time. The
train stops at the Junction On signal
- but they don't like to wait. Not
now. I can remember when they'd wait
all day ... if Mr. Kane said so.
Raymond ushes Thompson into
INT. THE GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940
The magnificent tapestries, candelabra, etc., are still there, but now several large packing cases are piled against the walls, some broken open, some shut and a number of objects, great and small, are piled pell mell all over the place. Furniture, statues, paintings, bric-a-brac - things of obviously enormous value are standing beside a kitchen stove, an old rocking chair and other junk, among which is also an old sled, the self-same story. Somewhere in the back, one of the vast Gothic windows of the hall is open and a light wind blows through the scene, rustling the papers.
In the center of the hall, a Photographer and his Assistant are busy photographing the sundry objects. The floor is littered with burnt-out flash bulbs. They continue their work throughout the early part of the scene so that now and then a flash bulb goes off. In addition to the Photographer and his Assistant, there are a Girl and Two Newspaperment - the Second and Third Men of the projection room scene - also Thompson and Raymond.
The Girl and the Second Man, who wears a hat, are dancing somewhere in the back of the hall to the music of a phonograph. A flash bulb goes off. The Photographer has just photographed a picture, obviously of great value, an Italian primitive. The Assistant consults a label on the back of it.
ASSISTANT NO. 9182
The Third Newspaperman starts to jot this information down.
"Nativity" - attributed to Donatello,
acquired Florence 1921, cost 45,000
lira. Got that?
All right! Next! Better get that
statue over there.
The Photographer and his Assitant start to move off with their equipment towards a large sculpture in another part of the hall.
What do you think all that is
worth, Mr. Thompson?
Millions - if anybody wants it.
The banks are out of luck, eh?
Oh, I don't know. They'll clear
"Venus," Fourth Century. Acquired
1911. Cost twenty-three thousand.
(patting the statue
on the fanny)
That's a lot of money to pay for a
dame without a head.
(reading a label)
No. 483. One desk from the estate
of Mary Kane, Little Salem, Colorado.
A flashlight bulb goes off.
We're all set to get everything. The
junk as well as the art.
Thompson has opened a box and is idly playing with a handful of little pieces of cardboard.
It's a jigsaw puzzle.
We got a lot of those. There's a
Burmese Temple and three Spanish
ceilings down the hall.
Yeah, all in crates.
There's a part of a Scotch castle
over there, but we haven't bothered
to unwrap it.
I wonder how they put all those
(reading a label)
Iron stove. Estate of Mary Kane.
Put it over by that statue. It'll
make a good setup.
Who is she anyway?
Venus. She always is.
He sure liked to collect things,
He went right on buying - right up
to the end.
Anything and everything - he was a
I wonder - You put all this together -
the palaces and the paintings and the
toys and everything - what would it spell?
Thompson has turned around. He is facing the camera for the first time.
Charles Foster Kane.
Another flash bulb goes off. The Photographer turns to Thompson with a grin.
Or Rosebud? How about it, Jerry?
(to the dancers)
Turn that thing off, will you? It's
driving me nuts! What's Rosebud?
Kane's last words, aren't they, Jerry?
(to the Third Newspaperman)
That was Jerry's angle, wasn't it, Jerry?
Did you ever find out what it means, Jerry?
No, I didn't.
The music has stopped. The dancers have come over to Thompson.
Say, what did you find out about him,
Well, what have you been doing?
Playing with a jigsaw puzzle - I
talked to a lot of people who knew him.
What do they say?
Well - it's become a very clear picture.
He was the most honest man who ever
lived, with a streak of crookedness
a yard wide. He was a liberal and a
reactionary; he was tolerant - "Live
and Let Live" - that was his motto.
But he had no use for anybody who
disagreed with him on any point, no
matter how small it was. He was a
loving husband and a good father -
and both his wives left him and his
son got himself killed about as
shabbily as you can do it. He had a
gift for friendship such as few men
have - he broke his oldest friend's
heart like you'd throw away a cigarette
you were through with. Outside of that -
What about Rosebud? Don't you
think that explains anything?
No, I don't. Not much anway. Charles
Foster Kane was a man who got everything
he wanted, and then lost it. Maybe
Rosebud was something he couldn't get
or lost. No, I don't think it explains
anything. I don't think any word explains
a man's life. No - I guess Rosebud is
just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle - a
He drops the jigsaw pieces back into the box, looking at his watch.
We'd better get along. We'll miss
He picks up his overcoat - it has been resting on a little sled - the little sled young Charles Foster Kane hit Thatcher with at the opening of the picture. Camera doesn't close in on this. It just registers the sled as the newspaper people, picking up their clothes and equipment, move out of the great hall.
INT. CELLAR - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940
A large furnace, with an open door, dominates the scene. Two laborers, with shovels, are shovelling things into the furnace. Raymond is about ten feet away.
Throw that junk in, too.
Camera travels to the pile that he has indicated. It is mostly bits of broken packing cases, excelsior, etc. The sled is on top of the pile. As camera comes close, it shows the faded rosebud and, though the letters are faded, unmistakably the word "ROSEBUD" across it. The laborer drops his shovel, takes the sled in his hand and throws it into the furnace. The flames start to devour it.
EXT. XANADU - NIGHT - 1940
No lights are to be seen. Smoke is coming from a chimney.
Camera reverses the path it took at the beginning of the picture, perhaps omitting some of the stages. It moves finally through the gates, which close behind it. As camera pauses for a moment, the letter "K" is prominent in the moonlight.
Just before we fade out, there comes again into the picture the pattern of barbed wire and cyclone fencing. On the fence is a sign which reads:
"PRIVATE - NO TRESPASSING"