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You try and remake Welles, you better hope you're going to do something as innovative as he was when he did it. Because if you don't, there's not much point.
As a kid, I fall in love with Isabel, the daughter, and make a fool of myself one night. Isabel had her choice of many suitors. As far as Eugene is concerned, she makes the wrong choice. We all grew up in the same town together, so I was friends with her brother from the beginning. I come back to town and I kind of pick up where I left off, but I can't with Isabel because she's otherwise engaged.
It's about the disillusion of those old moneyed families that relied on a different kind of income when the automobile came to the States. The Amberson family, with all its old money, is essentially staid and not forward looking. And that's what brings them down. They can't see the future. They're living in the past in a time of great change at the turn of the century. When the automobile comes, it becomes a metaphor for change as well as a real physical element of change. They don't see those elements coming together and it takes them by surprise. Then suddenly they're surrounded by commerce and industry and they can't compete because they're not of that world.
[This role] is challenging in all kinds of ways. It's challenging because it's been done before by a man who is really respected for his performance. You know, they're big shoes to fill. So, that's something to consider, I guess. To make it different enough that it stands on its own. But it's also a lot of fun. This character is essentially full of joy, although at the center of that joy, there's a heartbreaking and unfulfilled love that kind of burns. But essentially, he's a joyous guy, which is nice for me because I've played a lot of bastards.
On some levels, it's almost a shame to have ever made a movie out of it. Because the book is so good.
It's also difficult to ignore Cotten because he was so great.
[Isabel's] son is a product of that rigid, old money upbringing where he believes he's entitled to anything and everything he wants. Anybody who doesn't share his pedigree is thoroughly un-entitled. The idea that his mother, after his father's death, is attracted to a commoner -- along with the fact that his mother was attracted to this man before, well, George sees it as an insult that I'm paying any attention to her, however innocent at all. So he gets in the way of that. Because his mother loves her son so deeply above all other things, he coerces her into leaving town. And the love affair is undone through his blindness and selfishness.
A&E: Eugene has gone through a personal recreation, almost. He was the young, ambitious fellow who made a few mistakes, lost the love of his life, and then went off and became a successful and mature adult. It's almost like playing two characters in one. How do you approach that change in his persona?
A&E: How do the immense changes of this era affect your character Eugene?
In private moments, we sort of hope that Orson Welles is smiling at us. He might be a little pissed off at us, but that's OK, too.
It's a remake. You can't help but it be a remake. I mean it almost doesn't matter how original your vision is. If you're working with a script that's the same script, it's going to be a remake.
It's certainly a lamentation over the way progress inhales things of beauty and belches out ugliness in its wake, while at the same time goes towards something higher. |