Mank

On the surface, David Fincher’s Mank is an entertaining romp through the backstage of Hollywood’s Golden Age, designed to titillate classic movie buffs. At its core, the film is a story of a man who might as well be literally burning all of his bridges down behind and in front of him. Whatever the reason you come for, you’re going to enjoy the ride.

Gary Oldman takes up Herman Mankiewicz— the man who co-penned Citizen Kane, one of the most daunting movies in cinematic history, but also helped make The Wizard of Oz a masterpiece. In short, we can’t hate the real man completely.

These movies are usually not uttered in the same sentence, but there is one similarity I can’t help but notice now. They both involve a twister that kicks up a lot of dust. In the case of Citizen Kane, the storm in question isn’t on screen. Mankiewicz is the twister, and the mud is slung across the silver screen for all to witness.

And that’s where Fincher places us, right in the center of the whirlwind Mankiewicz and Orson Welles conjured up.

I should have no interest in watching Mank, a movie about another film, which I have never been able to bring myself to watch in its entirety. And yet, here I am writing about it as my first Slacker’s Guide to the Oscars entry this year. What can I say? We are still living in odd times.

Having watched Citizen Kane is thankfully not a pre-requisite to watching and subsequently enjoying Mank. It was good enough I made another run at watching Citizen Kane. Enthusiastic as the effort was, I still have yet to summit AFI’s Greatest Movie of All Time.

Casting the uber-talented Gary Oldman to portray him on screen was a brilliant no-brainer. I’m not sure who else in Hollywood could have pulled off the balance between abrasive drunk and charismatic genius better than Oldman.

Amanda Seyfried and Tuppence Middleton’s subplot, with assists from Lily Collins and Monika Gossmann, humanizes Mank and his descent into obscurity. Having Charles Dance step into the role of William Randolph Hurst added the perfect measure of cold, calculated sophistication to the picture.

As impressive as all of the cast is, the devil is always in the details. Using black and white film to cement the film’s era in the audience’s mind is one thing. Adding cue dots to frames was a tip of the hat to classic cinema. There is no need to do that. No one is sitting in the projector room, ready to change a reel.

Sadly, as much as I enjoyed Mank, I don’t think it’s going to be a true contender for any of the main award categories. It is a Netflix project, and it’s a pat on the back to Hollywood. Having only one of those would be enough to disqualify it from significant contention. With two smudges to its name, Mank’s got an uphill battle for sure.