It's over 30 years since the death of Orson Welles. Mark Cousins starts this like writing a letter to his dead hero. He's looking at his visual styles. He visits the daughter, Beatrice Welles, who kept a treasure trove of his artworks. Through it all, Cousins is doing a narration worthy of Werner Herzog. It's lesser Herzog. It's not as compelling. It drones on. At first, it's hypnotic but it is also rather repetitive. He's following the artwork to locations across the globe and linking it to his filmography. It's a different way to examine an artistic life.
Review of The Eyes of Orson Welles
