Someone said nothing like the "Chimes" battle scene exists in the rest of Welles's work.
Not true. From Simon Callow's Orson Welles: The Road to Xanadu
, pp. 440-1:
"[While the rest of the staging of Welles's 1939 production "Five Kings," a precursor of "Chimes", was problematic,] what certainly did work (as in the film) were the battle scenes. Martin Gabel attended the show [...]: 'Orson had a kind of No Man's Land onstage, a painted canvas looking like churned earth over mounds, and in the centre he had a single, leafless tree...as they began fighting, the stage started to revolve
, and the music came in to support the fight. They fought on this stage as the knights of old must have fought - up hill and down dale
, fighting it out. As the battle became more intense, the revolving stage went faster, the music approached a climax[...] And then, slowly, the revolve was brought round and Hotspur gave his death speech, lying prostrate below the mound. It was an absolutely perfect piece of work.' [Herbert] Drake, too, was thrilled by the fighting: 'the battle scenes are the best I ever saw on any stage
...the scenes in which the Welles flair for spectacle is most adequately exhibited are the battles of Shrewsbury and Agincourt. He has exploding bombards, the usual banners and highly effective, if somewhat terrifying flights of arrows which fly across the stage[...] no pink-tea fencing for his princes and kings. They lay on with roundhouse swings and highly satisfactory clanging of claymores.
The actor mortality will doubtless be high. The property room already had replaced more than a dozen broken swords, but it is worth the expenditure." (Emphases added)
Welles did not direct or cut the "Chimes" battle sequence. Michelangelo did not paint the Sistine Chapel ceiling. And Neil Armstrong was not an astronaut.
Do the fanboys wiping the counters in the video stores read the most relevant materials before "blogging," such as biographies of the main figures whom they are writing about? We shall never know.
As to the "Psycho" shower scene, everyone involved affirms that Alfred Hitchcock directed it - except Saul Bass. Bass is the sole source of the idea that Hitchcock didn't direct it - because, according to Saul Bass, it was directed by Saul Bass. With apologies to Mr. Wilson for going OT, here are a few quotes (from Stephen Rebello's Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho
, pp. 110-4):
Assistant Director Hilton Green: "I read [the Bass claim] somewhere. That really upsets me. That's absolutely ridiculous. Mr. Hitchcock was there every second of the time, I won't even say 'minute.'"
Wardrobe supervisor Rita Riggs: "I was involved daily because it was such a critical experience. The storyboards for that sequence were unbelievable, but Mr. Hitchcock absolutely shot it himself. We shot frame by frame from the storyboards because each of us had to look at them to know exactly what the camera would see[...] Mr. Hitchcock got impatient several times and would say, 'Oh, come
now, we've all seen more than that at the beach.' [...] Mr. Hitchcock sometimes walked away because he became so exasperated by three hours of running water, nudity, and wipe-offs [of (Janet Leigh's) moleskin covering]. He may have turned over a brief shot or two to an assistant. I remember him sitting there twiddling his thumbs clockwise or, when particularly exasperated, counterclockwise. I also remember him trying not to generate any giggles to break the tension."
Janet Leigh: "Saul Bass was there for the shooting, but he never directed me. Absolutely not. Saul Bass is brilliant, but he couldn't have done the drawings had Mr. Hitchcock not discussed with him what he wanted to get. And [anyone else] couldn't have filmed the drawings."
Screenwriter Joseph Stefano: "I know
[Hitchcock] shot it. Because one of my favorite memories of the whole experience was of Alfred Hitchcock standing there talking seriously about camera angles with a naked model."
Stuntwoman Margo Epper ("Mother" for the shower sequence): "Mr. Hitchcock was an odd person to work for. We were working on a kind of raised platform. I can remember him standing just below us looking up and saying exactly what to do and how to do it [...] he'd have you doing the smallest things over and over."
Here is an interesting paragraph indicating whose was the main mind involved in the moment-to-moment grind of shooting, the man who had the ideas and solutions:
"It is not surprising that Hitchcock would have specific notions as to how the 'Psycho' bathroom set should be dressed and photographed. Having once boasted to a baffled interviewer: 'Visit a bathroom after I have been there, you would never know I had been there,' Hitchcock insisted upon dazzling white plastic tiles, gleaming fixtures, and an opaque shower curtain. In 'Spellbound' (1945), Hitchcock and cinematographer George Barnes had conjured up an eerily disorienting brightness for the bathroom scene in which Gregory Peck hoists a straight razor and heads toward the sleeping Ingrid Bergman. Obtaining a similar effect in 'Psycho' created additional headaches for the director and his crew. The high-key lighting created by cinematographer John Russell and the lighting men generated so much reflection that the face of stuntwoman Epper, having been painstakingly backlit to mask her identity, was clearly visible. The problem forced Hitchcock to reshoot Mother's 'entry' and stabbing motions. The second time around, makeup man Jack Barron blackened Epper's face[...] Hitchcock challenged cameraman Russell and his production team by devising a point-of-view shot to heighten audience identification with Janet Leigh. He wanted to show water pulsing out the shower head straight toward the camera. 'It was an old-fashioned shower head,' noted script supervisor Schlom. 'You couldn't control the spray every way you wanted it. Everyone's first and obvious question was, "If we shoot right at it, how are we going to keep the lens dry?" Mr. Hitchcock said, "Put the camera there
with a long lens and block off the inner holes on the shower head so they won't spout water." By using the longer lens, we could get back a little farther, shoot a little tighter and the water appeared to hit the lens but actually sprayed past it. The guys on the sides got a little soaked but, meanwhile, we got the shot.'"
A certain kind of person seeks attention by making juicy but false claims that someone of accomplishment is a phony. Orson Welles was, and is, a special target of this sort of thing (altogether different from recognizing the real and valuable contributions of collaborators). It's a sad phenomenon we've discussed in another context.
But I find the reality of someone's accomplishment much juicier. I'm sure, gentle reader, that you do, too.