I want to be Orson Welles when I grow up, honestly. I don’t think there has ever been a more fascinating cinematic figure than Welles, who never fails to surprise me with his exceptional skills, both as a performer and as a filmmaker, being someone whose career helped set the foundations for modern cinema. A figure who was both openly in the public consciousness, being a populist renaissance man of sorts with a penchant for excess and luxury, but yet still an enigmatic artist who created some of the greatest works of all time, Welles was a bundle of contradictions, which is often shown in his films, many of which cover complex themes that serve to be reflections on Welles himself. Something about Welles has stirred up some new fascination in me as of late (perhaps a side-effect of the exciting news that his final film, the uncompleted The Other Side of the Wind, has been completed, restored and will be seen around the world in only a few months), and in order to quench this thirst, I chose to watch one of his most subversive and unique pictures, F for Fake, which was also the final film Welles completed in his lifetime. I don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll state it outright: with F for Fake, Welles made nothing short of a masterpiece, a postmodern extravaganza that blurs boundaries and defies genre in the effort to be arguably the most unique film of Welles’ career. I thought I loved Welles as much as humanly possible before seeing this film – how wrong I was.

F for Fake is…something or the other, I’m not quite sure what precisely. Right now, I’d call it a documentary, but defining it under that genre – or any genre, to be honest – seems unsatisfactory and inappropriate. To assign any film to a particular category means that it inherits certain expectations and conventions with that classification, and while many do abide by these conventions, often very skilled directors are able to subvert them and make them new. However, Orson Welles was not merely “a very skilled director” – he was the epitome of cinematic genius, so not only does he defy expectations and disobey conventions, he brutally manipulates them in fervent playfulness and presents the audience with something that challenges protocol and invokes deep, meaningful thought into the nature of…everything? F for Fake is the kind of film that leaves itself open entirely to interpretation, and Welles provides questions without necessarily giving the answers – he relishes in teasing the audience, provoking certain thoughts and emotions and deriving the story from it. In F for Fake, Welles directs the film, but it is the audience that makes it because so much of what makes this film effective is the relationship between the screen and ourselves. Therefore, it is on this foundation that Welles builds F for Fake, a gloriously subversive piece of postmodern brilliance that resonates louder than most other films, through its earnest frankness and subversive intricacies.

The central story running through F for Fake is that of the truth, or rather, the absence of it. As the title would suggest, F for Fake is a film about fakery, and thus centres on a pair of men who made their careers by liberally dabbling in the skill of forgery. The first is Elmyr de Hory, a Hungarian living in Ibiza who has come to be known as one of history’s most infamous forgers of art. His works had fooled art dealers for centuries, and ended up in museums and galleries, under the guise that they were originals by some of history’s finest painters. The second is Elmyr’s biographer, Clifford Irving, who wrote an exposé on Elmyr, and yet still became an associate of his, and one of his confidants. It is revealed that Irving was a master of forgery of his own, having written a tell-all biography of world-famous tycoon and recluse Howard Hughes, only to have the book dismissed as an effective, but awfully exploitative forgery. However, the stories of these two men are not the only focus of this film, with Welles weaving together many storylines throughout F for Fake, which allows him the opportunity to explore several different concepts and themes. Welles was a great director, and F for Fake is a testament to that – but it is nearly impossible to encompass every idea that is imbued within this film, and to attempt to do so would just be an attempt to rationalize a film that perhaps isn’t a film at all, but rather a living work of art, with an abundance of complexities.

I’m a linguist by profession, and while this is pretty much inconsequential, it does remind me of a famous anecdote that has existed in the linguistics community for aeons and has managed to pervade into the public consciousness through its popular use in various mediums. What I am referring to is the belief that the Russian language was two different words for truth – pravda is a subjective truth, that which can be proven false and can change over time. The second is istina, which is a truth that cannot be manipulated or changed – it goes beyond being factual to the point where anything contradictory is regarded as foolishly ignorant. The reason for bringing up this fascinating anecdote is not superficial – much of F for Fake is concerned with exploring truth, and much like the Russian language, there is not a singular truth, but rather many, with Welles investigating how truthful something can actually be. F for Fake is a very complex film, but we can reduce it to the byline of simply being a journey into the concept of truth, and how we as individuals operate as beings reliant on truth, whether adhering to it through honesty or defying it through manipulation of facts. The film lays its base on this very complex philosophical issue, yet one that never feels heavy-handed or dull in the slightest. Quite the contrary – Welles constructs a thrilling, entertaining caper of a documentary that keeps one captivated and exhilarated throughout.

Truth is the central concept of F for Fake, and Welles understands the broad philosophical implications that can be derived from looking at such a small but complex element of human existence. I’m certainly not an expert on living behaviour, but humans may just be the only beings that have a concept of truth, and as part of that, we are the only species with a concept of untruth. In utilizing this theme and manipulating popular perceptions of it, Welles is able to set forth his internal playfulness in this joyfully nuanced odyssey through morality and honesty. In F for Fake, Welles constructs certain mysteries, and while he doesn’t evade the truth, he uses it as a powerful narrative device, something that he and the other creative forces behind this film wield in order to provoke certain ideas and debates into the mind of even the most passive of viewers. This is a film that dares you to be an active participant in the storytelling, and there are moments where Welles seems to be reaching out to us directly, creating the illusion that there is nothing separating us from the now-deceased Welles, who commands us to not only question reality and what is conceived to be true but to question ourselves and our own beliefs. What is the truth? How do we know when something is factual or not? Most importantly, how do we process the fact that even the most truthful of socially-mediated, sacrosanct beliefs – the aforementioned istina – could be violable in themselves, false information made truthful through general the general belief that this, whatever it is, cannot be false, not because there are facts to prove it, but because someone with authority has deemed it to be true. It is a deliriously surreal concept and one I am still trying to understand myself, with man-made truths existing as a central core throughout the film.

The film shows how truth and lies are not binary, and rather exist on a spectrum – one could argue that the truth does not necessarily entail fact in all instances. Rather, some truths can come out of the combination of subjectivity and authority – all Elymr needed for his works to be considered was “one nod” from an art historian or dealer. Their opinion, as subjective as it may be, works in conjunction with their prestigious reputation, and thus regardless of their internal ignorance, their external, socially-mediated expertise defines the truth. It is a beautifully terrifying concept and one that Welles explores perfectly, taking us on a journey into the world of artistic forgery, using a simple concept as a platform for exploring the flaws that exist within the specific industry, as well as society as a whole, where certain individuals are hoisted onto a pedestal of knowledge, not because they have knowledge or insight, but because their perception of reality is perceived as far superior to that of others. Elmyr’s works are accepted into these galleries, and their position as forgeries is not noted, because they are skilful, masterful works themselves – surely then they are not forgeries, but works of art on their own? Was Elmyr really a forger, or was he a bona fide artist in every sense of the word? Welles’ approach to this film was nothing short of magnificent, and he manages to deftly blend the main theoretical concepts and existential questions with that of the broadly social, as well as the deeply intimate. F for Fake is a film about individuals, and Welles gives these people, particularly his central subjects, the majority of the focus, allowing them to tell their sides of their stories. Whether what they are saying is true or not is not clear, but isn’t that the entire purpose of this film?

F for Fake has a lot of central concepts beyond that of the truth – subjects include art, the notion of celebrity gossip and fame, literature, politics and society as a whole. Yet, this film also looks at perhaps Orson Welles’ favourite subject of all: Orson Welles. F for Fake is not a film that sees Welles passively recording history and talking to fascinating subjects – a large part of this film is about Welles himself, and whether it be in him chronicling his own youthful years as a naive young man, or in his twilight years where he has amassed a certain reputation, F for Fake is a fascinating portrait of the artist as an old man (the fact that his testimony includes a memory of his youthful artistic endeavours in Ireland doesn’t help either). Welles was so endlessly charming, and his easy-going, confident position as both creator and subject of this work is exceptional, and portions of this film see the director lamenting on his own past, testifying to his own artistic aspirations and experiences, and curating his own personal history. A fascinating individual, Welles was the pinnacle of an unconventional literary Don Juan – suave, elegant and armed with an arrogance that is far more endearing than it is repulsive. There are few individuals who could carry themselves with such blatant self-adoration and yet still make the audience swoon with adulation than Welles. Despite F for Fake not being autobiographical or even centrally focused on Welles, the stark similarities between the director and the story are quite remarkable. F for Fake is a film that proves that everything is connected – there are clues scattered throughout, loose threads of storylines that all come together spectacularly in the incredible climax. Welles’ own connection to the central themes is made quite overt and makes an indelible impact. This is not a vanity project on behalf of Welles – it is a nuanced, intricate exploration of society and the one belief that can be said as an undeniable fact: everything is somehow connected in the vast network of coincidence, chance and simple human existence.

In F for Fake, Welles promised to tell the truth, and he abides by this, as evident in the assertions that bookend this film. Yet, considering this film manipulates the concept of honesty, what is to say that Welles’ asserting his own truthfulness is actually true? I find this to be perhaps the most fascinating concept underlying this film, and one that speaks to my utter adoration of postmodernism. It is almost becoming a recurring theme, but it would be amiss for me not to mention the core of postmodern thought is rooted in the complete dismissal of grand narratives – we exist in a world where truth is seen as the ultimate entity – why else would the Orwellian concept of untruth be so resonant, as well as the more recent spread of “alternative facts”? Welles deconstructs the notion that what is perceived to be factual is actually so, showing how there are many possible alternatives to the truth, and perhaps even a promise of truthfulness in itself is not necessarily truthful – and if someone promises to tell the truth, but subsequently lies, they were being dishonest about their honesty, which thus renders the initial promise redundant, but this isn’t important, because there wasn’t any intention to adhere to this promise in the first place, thus making their dishonesty quite possibly the most truthful of all: to lie about lying is not in itself a lie, but rather a warped truth within itself. The circularity is wonderful and possibly inducive of a minor existential crisis. An artistic trickster himself, I doubt Welles would have felt too badly about his brilliant use of deception and the philosophical underpinnings that go along with it.

Fakery is the main focus of this films, and Welles explores this theme wonderfully. He does this through an intricate investigation into the art of professional deceit, looking at the forgery of a painting, a book or in the instance of the final part of this film, an entire human being’s personal history. The final act of this film has to be one of the most simultaneously brilliant and frustratingly anger-inducing sequences in cinema history, particularly the penultimate moments, where Welles reveals that much like is subjects, he himself is a master of forgery, and that the audience were not just watching a documentary about individuals who built careers out of deception, but being very actively involved as victims of Welles’ own fakery. An enormously satisfying film, a documentary that balances complex philosophical and existential themes with lighthearted humour and playful warmth, F for Fake is a masterpiece, and certainly amongst the very best works Welles ever produced in his lifetime. Almost entirely without flaws as a film, I can’t help but reaffirm my belief that Welles was quite simply the greatest that ever was, and as F for Fake lays testament, no one could captivate an audience better than him. F for Fake is a true work of art, and the realization that it may be a forgery itself is devilishly clever and brilliantly subversive. This is an absolutely terrific film, a delightful artistic romp with heavy overtures of the profoundly terrifying and the terrifyingly profound nature of society, and the uniquely human to categorize something as fact or fiction. F for Fake dares to challenge this, and begs the question: if lies didn’t exist, would there be any use for truth at all?