Rosebud
In university, I had the chance to take a Film History course with one of Turkey’s top directors, Emin Alper. When I saw his name on the list, I knew I couldn’t pass it up. The course covered some of the most influential films in cinema history. For our second film, we watched Citizen Kane. (And yes, as anyone who’s taken a class like this could guess, our first film was Battleship Potemkin(1925) — a classic choice for film studies.)
When Emin Alper started the discussion, he opened with a bold question: Can a film that isn’t even Orson Welles’s best work still be considered the greatest film of all time?
Not a single person in the room said “yes.” Some of us didn’t like the film; others appreciated parts of it, but no one was especially enthusiastic. Emin Alper seemed to agree, but he asked the question from a different perspective.
So, why has Citizen Kane held the title of “greatest film of all time” for so long?
Emin Alper’s experience as a director helped him see past the story and focus on the technical achievements. In his view, Citizen Kane was the most liberating film in cinema history, breaking new ground with its innovative cinematography. It changed how films were made, pushing boundaries and setting new standards that influenced generations of filmmakers.
One of the film’s most interesting techniques was its use of long, unbroken takes. In many scenes, multiple things would happen at once without a single cut: a character in the foreground might talk to someone in the background, they’d move around, and the camera would follow without breaking. Even when the film did cut, it often overlapped slightly with the previous scene, so you never lost your sense of place. In modern movies, we’re used to seeing conversations broken up with quick, alternating shots of each character’s face. Citizen Kane does almost the opposite, keeping the whole scene grounded in one space.
When it comes to the story, though, Citizen Kane doesn’t quite hit the same level. The screenplay jumps back and forth in time, which doesn’t always serve the narrative well. The film is mainly driven by the mystery of “Rosebud,” the last word of the main character, Charles Foster Kane. It’s a bit like a “MacGuffin,” a plot device that gives a character purpose—just as the stolen rug gives purpose to The Big Lebowski’s Dude. But where the rug in The Big Lebowski pulls us into a colorful, immersive world, Citizen Kane’s “Rosebud” mystery can feel a little flat, especially if you already know the twist.
Maybe Orson Welles was simply ahead of his time. Citizen Kane leaves us with the idea that people don’t really change; they just keep repeating the same mistakes. And in the end, they’re often left with regrets—whether they’re powerful tycoons like Kane or ordinary people.
Despite its flaws, Citizen Kane was groundbreaking. And sometimes, being first matters as much as being perfect.