by mteal » Thu Dec 13, 2001 12:41 pm
In the complete 132-minute "continuity cut" version of the film (I'll just call it the "CC"), Welles has George repent earlier (WITHOUT the climactic shot of the mansion in ruins, I should add). Then, apparently to show his repentance has some substance to it, has him try to help Fanny in Bronson's office. Then George gets hit by the car, but gets Lucy back. Then Eugene rejects Fanny at the shabby boardinghouse that George has risked his life to get her.
Now that I think of it, tho, I still like the original script version better. George learns of Fanny's financial ruin, and then asks Bronson for the dynamite job. Then, tightlipped, he lets Jack go at the railroad station, apparently without letting him know of their desperate condition. Then he walks home and repents, with his iron will not only broken, but drifting indifferently towards self-destruction.
So where is Lucy and Eugene's garden scene in all this? After viewing the CC, Welles requested that it and the car accident be eliminated for the first, "Pamona" preview, so the order at Pamona was:
1. George and Jack at the station
2. Walk home and repentance
3. Fanny's breakdown
4. Bronson's office
5. Newspaper insert telling of accident.
6. Boardinghouse
As we all know, the Pamona preview was a complete disaster. Subsequently, the order was changed yet again for the second, "Pasadena" preview and the two scenes Welles ordered cut were reinstated. The Pasadena order:
1. George and Jack at the station
2. Fanny's breakdown
3. Bronson's office scene
4. Walk home and repentance (without mansion in ruins)
5. Lucy and Eugene in the garden
6. Accident
7. Boardinghouse
This is the order they should have left it in, but for the final studio release they changed it yet again, with Eugene and Lucy's garden scene plopped down in the middle of it arbitrarily:
1. George and Jack at the station
2. garden scene
3. Fanny's breakdown
4. Bronson's office
5. Walk home and repentance
6. Accident
7. New Hospital ending with Fanny and Eugene that Welles had nothing to do with.
I think the Vanity Fair article is right when it says that, by this time, probably everyone - including Welles - was just tired of the whole thing.