Melancholy and Infinite Sadness, by Tyler Smith

CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (1965)
Written and Directed by: Orson Welles
Starring: Orson Welles, John Gielgud, Keith Baxter

“Melancholy.”

This is a word we’ve all heard before, I’m sure, often in association with different works of art; a song or a painting. But, what exactly does it mean?

Speaking as a person so often described as “melancholy” that, years ago, I just had to look it up, I can give you the basic ideas behind this concept.

Melancholy, first and foremost, is a sort of temperament. The melancholy is a person so in touch with his emotions, positive and negative, that he is often in danger of being controlled by them. At times, this can be great. When the melancholy is happy, he is energetic, almost euphoric. The melancholy, often being a artistic sort, will sometimes create something great when feeling like this. He can be very magnetic; everybody wants to be around him, as he often funny and welcoming.

However, when the melancholy’s mood turns, it goes very much to the other extreme. Prone to depression, which gives way to self-pity and, in extreme cases, paranoia, the melancholy can be a very unpleasant person to be around. Not to worry, though, when in this foul mood, the melancholy will seldom seek out the company of others. The melancholy is very sensitive to any feelings of betrayal and disloyalty, but will turn this bitterness inward, feeling that he deserves this.

Now, then, that brings us to the Shakespearean character of Falstaff. Falstaff was one of Shakespeare’s more popular characters, appearing in a number of his plays, most memorably in “Henry V.” In these plays, Falstaff is a sort of comic relief, a fat, cowardly drunk who, nonetheless, attracts people to him. In spite of their admiration, Falstaff is frustrated with himself, upset at his cowardice and hedonism. Self-hating, but still unable to change; that’s a description of melancholy, if I ever heard one.

Among Falstaff’s fellow revelers is Prince Hal, who looks up to this jolly father figure. However, Falstaff and Hal both know that, when the time comes for Hal to inherit the throne, he will have to give up his childish, carefree activities; Falstaff fits under this heading. In the meantime, though, they enjoy each other’s company and get in all sorts of adventures.

Eventually, though, it is time for Hal to become the king. In a heart-wrenching scene, Hal says to Falstaff, “I know thee not, old man.” Falstaff feels betrayed, and dies soon after.

Throughout his life, Orson Welles was fascinated with Falstaff. Perhaps because there was a definite twinge of the melancholy in him, but perhaps there was another reason.

Welles’ relationship with his father was a very turbulent thing. His genius and creativity was more a product of his ambitious mother. He felt that his father contributed nothing to the brilliant prodigy that was beginning to emerge; except, of course, for embarrassment, as his father was a raging drunk.

After his mother died, Welles chose not to cultivate his relationship with his father. Instead, he chose to ignore him completely, refusing to return his letters, and ducking him whenever he made a visit to Welles’ boarding school. He didn’t want any part of his father.

He wouldn’t have to worry about it much longer, however, as Welles’ father passed away when Welles’ was only 15. The boy was overwhelmed with guilt ever since, as is evident in later interviews.

It was only a few years later, while working on Broadway, that Welles decided to play Falstaff on the stage. His idea was to take all the scenes from the different plays that Falstaff appeared in and tie them together, creating a play in which Falstaff was the lead, rather than just a supporting character.

The play was called “Five Kings,” and proved to be more than Welles could handle. The play was a disaster, but that didn’t stop Welles’ interest in the tragic character of Falstaff, a joyous, flawed man, denounced by his young ward.

Chimes at Midnight is Welles’ film of “Five Kings,” albeit shortened from the four-plus-hour length of the stageplay. Like in the play, Welles plays Falstaff himself.

It is a brilliant performance, capturing everything we expect the character to be. He is dynamic and exciting. Sporting a large belly and a white beard, he comes off as a world-weary Santa Claus.

Welles’ plays him as a man who, like Welles himself, is keenly aware of his flaws, and regrets them. More than that, he knows that they will eventually be his ruin. After all, what king would ever associate with a drunken coward?

The film features Welles’ trademark visual flare and audio tricks. It is fun, then turns around and becomes haunting, then twists around and becomes sad, then back to fun. It never seems uneven, because the film takes on the personality of its lead character.

As much as I love Orson Welles, I’ve always felt that his films are fairly cold, emotionally. While Citizen Kane is my favorite film of all time, and Touch of Evil not far behind, I never felt emotionally drawn into the films. That’s not to say that I don’t sympathize with the characters, just a bit distanced from them.

Chimes at Midnight is, in my view, the one exception to this rule. In the scene where Falstaff is rejected by Prince Hal, we feel what he is feeling. We see the intense hurt and confusion in his eyes, and we just want to reach into the screen and hug him. This kind of sympathy is rarely found in Welles’ films (or films in general, for that matter).

Welles always said, at the end of his life, that, of all of the films that he had made, this was his favorite. It’s easy to see why. The parallels between Falstaff and Welles’ own father are very striking, as are those between Prince Hal and Welles.

Perhaps, years after his father’s death, Welles felt that he finally understood his father’s outlook. Eat, drink, be merry, make everybody happy, don’t worry too much, enjoy life. Just maybe, both in making the film and in playing Falstaff himself (perhaps his best screen performance), Welles was embracing who his father truly was, rather than who he wanted him to be. Maybe not, of course. Either way, the passion that Welles feels for the character of Falstaff is obvious in every frame of the film.

And so we come back to this whole notion of melancholy. The reason that I brought it up is that, in my view, few films, if any, capture the true feeling of melancholy better than Chimes at Midnight. To watch this film is to know what it means to be melancholy.