The Other Side of the Wind

It's impossible to say whether the resulting product is what Welles would have created, but what exists certainly provides much food for thought.

Sure to be wildly overpraised and cursorily dismissed, The Other Side of the Wind is often awful and frequently great, occasionally at the same time. The main thing is that it gives Welles the last word.

Overall, Wind magnificently displays Welles' filmmaking brilliance while baring the aging auteur's frailties and frustrations.

Welles and his collaborators have made an almost weightless film of ellipses and shards; as the camera ricochets at surprising angles and scenes slide into one another, the project recalls the energy and dynamism of Jean-Luc Godard.

Orson Welles' final film is an infuriating, brilliant, personal sign off, filled with stunning images, wit and bravura to spare. In short it's everything you hoped it would be.

Having seen it, my overwhelming feeling is not exaltation but sadness. I look at this maddening pastiche and think of all the great movies he might have made.

Ultimately, it is guesswork by outsiders to determine Welles’s true intention for execution, and knowing that always prevents a barrier from becoming truly engaged with the storytelling.

Episode 18: The Danse Macabre

Orson Welles' final film is a staccato, bitter [skewering of] modernity, standing highest when it falls into itself à la Godard and Vertov.

The Other Side of the Wind is a fascinating, seriously flawed product of its time. With all its faults, it is important viewing for anyone concerned with the fate of art and society.