Orson Welles
head gripped all 'round by shadows
in the full Arkadin Claus getup
glowering down at me
I'm the low angle cameramind, I guess
his eyes glint'n'squint
mouth moves
no sound
his eyes dart away from me
a Proustian something-or-other hooking up out of the moment
lips moving
jumpcut
he's staring at me full-on
I-the cameramind-am repositioned to reframe Welles for a direct address to the audience
still in the full Arkadin Claus getup
but with a skyblue painted backdrop
some kind of goofy glittering ocean effect cast across his body and half his face
maybe he's trying on Moby-Dick as Ahab Arkadin Claus
his eyes slitted, mouth moving
stops
eyes look to a middle distance
then a line comes to him
now he's staring straight into me again
says,
and the sound is just slightly off
says,
"My dear boy, do you know the way to the sardine's funeral?"
no discernible answer
he raises his brows
says,
"I believe your line is, 'Why isn't that in Sardinia, sir?' "
his face mellows into a giddy smile,
audio cuts out
just before his laughter
