We'll be on the street soon, Charlie, another 10 minutes.
Three hours and 50 minutes late, but we did it.
-Tired? -A tough day.
-A wasted day. -Wasted?
You only made the paper over four times tonight, that's all.
I've changed the front page a little, Mr. Bernstein. That's not enough.
There's something I've got to get into this paper besides pictures and print.
I've got to make the New York Inquirer as important to New York...
...as the gas in that light.
What are you going to do, Charlie?
My Declaration of Principles. Don't smile, Jedediah.
I've got it all written out here.
You don't want to make any promises you don't want to keep.
These'll be kept.
"I'll provide the people of this city...
"...with a daily paper that will tell all the news honestly.
-"I will also provide--" -That's two sentences starting with "l."
People will know who's responsible...
...and they'll get the truth in the Inquirer, quickly, simply and entertainingly.
No special interests will be allowed to interfere with that truth.
"I will also provide them with a fighting and tireless champion of their rights...
"...as citizens and as human beings."
Signed:
"Charles Foster Kane."
-Can I have that, Charlie? -I'm going to print it.
Solly!
Yes, Mr. Kane?
I want you to run this editorial in a box on the front page.
This morning's front page?
That's right, Solly, that means we'll have to remake again.
-Yes. -Go down and tell them.
All right.
When you're through with that, I'd like to have it back.
I'd like to keep that particular piece of paper myself.
I have a hunch it might turn out to be something pretty important.
-A document... -Sure.
...like the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution...
...and my first report card at school.
I know you're tired, gentlemen, but I brought you here for a reason.
-This little pilgrimage will do us good. -The Chronicle's a good newspaper.
Chronicle's a good idea for a newspaper. Notice the circulation.
495,000. But look who's working for the Chronicle.
-With them, it's no trick to get circulation. -You're right.
You know how long it took the Chronicle to get that staff together?
-Twenty years. -Twenty years?
Six years ago, I looked at a picture of the world's greatest newspaper men.
I felt like a kid in front of a candy store.
Tonight, six years later, I got my candy, all of it.
Welcome, gentlemen, to the Inquirer.
Make an extra copy of that picture and mail it to the Chronicle.
It'll make you all happy to learn that our circulation this morning...
...was the greatest in New York: 684,000.
684,132.
Right.
I hope you'll forgive my rudeness in taking leave of you.
I'm going abroad next week for a vacation.
I've promised my doctor for sometime that I would leave when I could.
I now realize I can't.
Say, Mr. Kane, as long as you're promising...
...there's a lot of pictures and statues in Europe you ain't bought yet.
You can't blame me, Mr. Bernstein.
They've been making statues for 2,000 years.
And I've only been buying for five.
-Promise me, Mr. Kane. -I promise, Mr. Bernstein.
-Thank you. -Mr. Bernstein?
You don't expect me to keep any of those promises, do you?
And now, gentlemen!
Your complete attention, if you please.
Are we going to declare war on Spain?
Oh, mama, here they come. Shoot me while I'm happy.
I said, "Are we going to declare war on Spain, or are we not?"
The Inquirer. already has.
You long-faced, overdressed anarchist.
I'm not overdressed.
You are, too. Mr. Bernstein, look at his necktie.
Let's have the song about Charlie.
-ls there a song about Charlie? -ls there a song about you, Mr. Kane?
You buy a bag of peanuts in this town, you get a song written about you.
I've seen that fellow. He's good.
Good evening, Mr. Kane.
"There is a man, a certain man
"And for the poor you may be sure that he'll do all he can
"Who is this one? This favorite son
"Just by his action has the traction magnates on the run
"Who loves to smoke, enjoys a joke
"Who wouldn't get a bit upset if he were really broke
"With wealth and fame he's still the same
"I'll bet you $5 you're not alive if you don't know his name
"What is his name?
"It's Charlie Kane, it's Mister Kane!
"He doesn't like that Mister He likes good old Charlie Kane"
-Isn't it wonderful? Such a party. -Yes.
What's the matter?
"Who says a miss was made to kiss
"And when he meets one always tries to do exactly this
"Who buys the food, who buys the drinks
"Who thinks that dough was made to spend and acts the way he thinks
"Now is it, Joe, no, no, no"
Bernstein, these men who are now with the Inquirer....
...who were with the Chronicle until yesterday--
Oh, mama, please.
-Give me that. -What? The blonde?
-No, the brunette. -Where did you learn that, Charlie?
Bernstein, these men who were with the Chronicle...
...weren't they just as devoted to the Chronicle policy...
...as they are now to our policies?
Sure, they're just like anybody else.
They got work to do, they do it.
Only they happen to be the best men in the business.
Do we stand for the same things the Chronicle stands for?
Certainly not.
Listen, Mr. Kane, he'll have them changed to his kind of newspapermen in a week.
There's always a chance, of course, that they'll change Mr. Kane.
Without his knowing it.
Mr. Leland, I got a cable from Mr. Kane!
-I got a cable here from Mr. Kane. -What?
-From Paris, France. -What?
-From Paris, France. -Come on in.
"Who by his action has the traction magnates on the run"
It's a good thing he promised not to send back any more statues.
Look, he wants to buy the world's biggest diamond.
Why didn't you go to Europe with him? He wanted you to.
I wanted Charlie to have fun, with me along....
Bernstein, am I a stuffed shirt?
Am I a horse-faced hypocrite? Am I a New England schoolmarm?
Yes.
If you thought I'd answer you different from what Mr. Kane tells you, I wouldn't.
"World's biggest diamond."
I didn't know Charlie was collecting diamonds.
He ain't.
He's collecting somebody that's collecting diamonds.
Anyway, he ain't only collecting statues.
"Welcome home, Mr. Kane...
"...from 467 employees of the New York Inquirer.."
Here he comes!
Welcome, Mr. Kane.
-I know I've a moustache. -It looks awful.
Have we got a society editor?
-Right here, Mr. Kane. -Miss Townsend is the society editor.
Miss Townsend, this is Mr. Charles Foster Kane.
Miss Townsend, I've been away so long. I don't know your routine.
I got a little social announcement.
I wish you wouldn't treat this any differently than you would any other...
...social announcement.
Mr. Kane, on behalf of all the employees of the Inquirer.--
Mr. Bernstein, thank you very much, everybody, I....
I'm sorry, I can't accept it now.
Goodbye.
Say, he was in an awful hurry.
Hey, everybody, look out here.
Let's go to the window.
-Mr. Leland! Mr. Bernstein! -Yes, Ms. Townsend?
This announcement: "Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Monroe Norton...
"...announce the engagement of their daughter, Emily Monroe Norton...
"...to Mr. Charles Foster Kane."
Come on.
Emily Monroe Norton, she's the niece of the President of the United States.
President's niece?
Before he's through, she'll be a president's wife.
The way things turned out, I don't need to tell you.
Miss Emily Norton was no rosebud.
It didn't end very well, did it?
It ended.
Then there was Susie. That ended, too.
You know, Mr. Thompson, I was thinking...
...this Rosebud you're trying to find out about....
Yes?
Maybe that was something he lost.
Mr. Kane was a man who lost almost everything he had.
You ought to see Jed Leland.
Of course, he and Mr. Kane didn't exactly see eye to eye.
You take the Spanish-American war.
I guess Mr. Leland was right. That was Mr. Kane's war.
We didn't really have anything to fight about.
Do you think if it hadn't been for that war of Mr. Kane's...
...we'd have the Panama Canal?
I wish I knew where Mr. Leland was.
A lot of the time now they don't tell me these things.
Maybe even he's dead.
In case you'd like to know...
...he's at the Huntington Memorial Hospital on 180th Street.
You don't say. I had--
Nothing particular the matter with him, they tell me, just....
Just old age.
It's the only disease that you don't look forward to being cured of.
I can remember absolutely everything, young man.
That's my curse.
That's one of the greatest curses ever inflicted on the human race: memory.
I was his oldest friend, and as far as I was concerned, he behaved like a swine.
Not that Charlie was ever brutal. He just did brutal things.
Maybe I wasn't his friend, but if I wasn't, he never had one.
Maybe I was what you nowadays call a stooge.
You were about to say something about Rosebud.
Do you happen to have a good cigar?
I've got a young physician here who thinks I'm going to give up smoking.
No, I'm afraid I haven't. Sorry.
I changed the subject, didn't l?
What a disagreeable old man I have become.
You're a reporter and you want to know what I think about Charlie Kane.
I suppose he had some private sort of greatness.
But he kept it to himself.
He never gave himself away. He never gave anything away.
He just left you a tip.
He had a generous mind.
I don't suppose anybody ever had so many opinions.
But he never believed in anything except Charlie Kane.
He never had a conviction except Charlie Kane in his life.
I suppose he died without one.
That must have been pretty unpleasant.
Of course, a lot of us check out without having any special convictions about death.
But we do know what we're leaving. We do believe in something.
Are you absolutely sure you haven't got a cigar?
-Sorry, Mr. Leland. -Never mind.
-What do you know about Rosebud? -"Rosebud"?
His dying words: "Rosebud."
I saw that in the Inquirer..
I never believed anything I saw in the Inquirer..
Anything else?
I can tell you about Emily. I went to dancing school with Emily.
I was very graceful.
-We were talking about the first Mrs. Kane. -What was she like?
She was like all the girls I knew in dancing school.
Very nice girl. Emily was a little nicer.
After the first couple of months...
...she and Charlie didn't see much of each other except at breakfast.
It was a marriage just like any other marriage.
-You're beautiful. -I can't be.
Yes, you are. You're very beautiful.
I've never been to six parties in one night before.
-I've never been up this late. -It's a matter of habit.
-What will the servants think? -That we enjoyed ourselves.
Why do you have to go straight off to the newspaper?
You never should've married a newspaperman, they're worse than sailors.
I absolutely adore you.
Charles, even newspapermen have to sleep.
I'll call Mr. Bernstein and have him put off my appointments till noon.
What time is it?
I don't know. It's late.
It's early.
Charles....
Do you know how long you kept me waiting last night...
...when you went to the newspaper for 10 minutes?
What do you do in a newspaper in the middle of the night?
My dear, your only correspondent is the Inquirer..
Sometimes I think I'd prefer a rival of flesh and blood.
I don't spend that much time on the newspaper.
It isn't just the time. It's what you print, attacking the President.
-You mean Uncle John. -I mean the President of the United States.
He's still Uncle John and a well-meaning fathead...
...who's letting a pack of high-pressure crooks run his administration.
-This whole oil scandal-- -He happens to be the President, not you.
That's a mistake that will be corrected one of these days.
Your Mr. Bernstein sent Junior the most incredible atrocity yesterday.
I simply can't have it in the nursery.
Mr. Bernstein is apt to pay a visit to the nursery now and then.
Does he have to?
Yes.
-Really, Charles, people will think-- -What I tell them to think.
Wasn't he ever in love with her?
He married for love.
Love.
That is why he did everything.
That's why he went into politics. It seems we weren't enough.
He wanted all the voters to love him, too.
All he wanted out of life was love.
That's Charlie's story. How he lost it.
You see, he just didn't have any to give.
He loved Charlie Kane, of course.
Very dearly.
And his mother, I guess he always loved her.
-How about his second wife? -Susan Alexander?
You know what Charlie called her?
The day after he'd met her, he told me about her.
He said she was "a cross-section of the American public."
I guess he couldn't help it. She must have had something for him.
That first night, according to Charlie...
...all she had was a toothache.
What are you laughing at, young lady?
-What's the matter with you? -Toothache.
-What? -Toothache.
Toothache?
You mean you've got a toothache.
-What's funny about that? -You're funny, mister.
-You've got dirt on your face. -Not dirt, it's mud.
Do you want some hot water? I live right here.
What's that, young lady?
I said, if you wanted some hot water...
...l could get you some...hot water.
All right, thank you very much.
Do I look any better now?
-This medicine doesn't do a bit of good. -What you need is to get your mind off it.
Excuse me, but my landlady prefers me to keep this door open...
-...when I have a gentleman caller. -All right.
You have got a toothache, haven't you?
-I surely have. -Why don't you try laughing at me again?
-What? -I'm still pretty funny.
I know, but you don't want me to laugh at you.
I don't want your tooth to hurt, either.
Look at me.
See that?
What are you doing?
I'm wiggling both my ears at the same time.
That's it, smile.
It took me two solid years at the best boys' school in the world to learn that.
The fellow who taught me is now president of Venezuela.
That's it!
-ls it a giraffe? -No, not a giraffe.
-I bet it is. -What?
Well, then it's an elephant.
-It's supposed to be a rooster. -A rooster!
You know an awful lot of tricks. Are you a professional magician?
-No, I'm not a magician. -I was just joking.
You really don't know who I am?
You told me your name, Mr. Kane, but I'm awfully ignorant.
I guess you caught on to that. I bet I've heard your name a million times.
You really like me, though, even though you don't know who I am?
I surely do. You've been wonderful.
Without you I don't know what I would have done.
I had a toothache, and I don't know many people.
I know too many people.
I guess we're both lonely.
Want to know what I was going to do before I ruined my best Sunday clothes?
I bet they're not your best Sunday clothes. You probably have more.
I was just joking.
I was on my way to the Western Manhattan Warehouse...
...in search of my youth.
You see, my mother died a long time ago. Her things were put in storage out West.
There wasn't any other place to put them.
I thought I'd send for them now. Tonight I was going to take a look at them.
A sort of sentimental journey.
I run a couple of newspapers. What do you do?
Me?
-How old did you say you were? -I didn't say.
If you had, I wouldn't have asked you.
-How old? -Pretty old.
-How old? -Twenty-two in August.
That's a ripe old age. What do you do?
I work at Seligman's. I'm in charge of the sheet music.
-ls that what you want to do? -No, I wanted to be a singer, I guess.
-That is, I didn't. My mother did for me. -What happened to the singing?
Mother always thought, she always talked about grand opera for me.
Imagine.
But my voice isn't that kind. It's just, you know what mothers are like.
Yes.
-Have you got a piano? -A piano?
Yes, there's one in the parlor.
-Would you sing for me? -You wouldn't want to hear me sing.
Yes, I would.
Don't tell me your toothache is bothering you.
No, that's all gone.
All right.
Let's go to the parlor.
"Yes, Lindor shall be mine
"I have sworn it
"For weal or woe
"Yes, Lindor
"Lo giurai
"La vinceṛ"
There is only one man who can rid the politics...
...of this state of the evil domination of Boss Jim Gettys.
I am speaking of Charles Foster Kane, the fighting liberal...
...the friend of the workingman, the next governor of this state...
...who entered upon this campaign....
...with one purpose only:
To point out and make public the dishonesty...
...the downright villainy of Boss Jim W. Gettys' political machine...
...now in complete control of the government of this state.
I made no campaign promises...
...because, until a few weeks ago, I had no hope of being elected.
Now, however, I have something more than a hope.
Jim Gettys has something less than a chance.
Every straw vote...
...every independent poll shows that I will be elected.
Very well.
Now I can afford to make some promises.
The workingman and the slum child...
...know they can expect my best efforts in their interests.
The decent, ordinary citizens know that I'll do everything in my power...
...to protect the underprivileged, the underpaid, and the underfed.
-Mother, is Pop governor yet? -Not yet, Junior.
I'd make my promises now...
...if I weren't too busy arranging to keep them.
But here's one promise I'll make...
...and Boss Jim Gettys knows I'll keep it.
My first official act as governor of this state...
...will be to appoint a special district attorney to arrange for the indictment...
...prosecution and conviction of Boss Jim W. Gettys.
If the election were held today, you'd be in by 100,000 votes.
-Gettys isn't even pretending. -Pop.
-Hello, son. -He isn't just scared, he's sick.
It's beginning to dawn on Jim Gettys I mean what I say.
-Did you like your old man's speech? -I could hear every word.
-Hello, Emily. -Hold it.
-Great speech, Mr. Kane. -Wonderful.
Will you get us a taxi?
I'm sending Junior home in the car with Oliver.
Good night, Father.
Goodbye, son.
Why did you send Junior home in the car? What are you doing in a taxi?
There's a call I want you to make with me.
-It can wait. -No, it can't.
What's this all about, Emily?
It may not be about anything at all. I intend to find out.
-Where are you going? -I'm going to "185 West 74th Street."
If you wish, you may come with me.
I'll come with you.
I had no idea you had this flair for melodrama, Emily.
Come right in, Mr. Kane.
Charlie.
He forced me to send your wife that letter. I didn't want to.
He's been saying the most terrible....
Mrs. Kane.
I don't suppose anybody would introduce us.
I'm Jim Gettys.
Yes?
I made Miss Alexander send you the note, Mrs. Kane.
She didn't want to at first. But she did it.
Charlie, the things he said to me.... He threatened to--
I won't wait until I'm elected. To start with, I think I'll break your neck.
Maybe you can do it, and maybe you can't.
Your breaking this man's neck would scarcely explain this note:
"Serious consequences for Mr. Kane, for yourself and for your son."
-He wanted to get her to come here-- -What does this note mean?
I'm Susan Alexander. I know what you're thinking--
-What does this note mean, Ms. Alexander? -She don't know.
She sent it because I told her it wouldn't be smart not to.
-Emily, this gentleman-- -I'm not a gentleman.
Your husband is only trying to be funny calling me one.
I don't even know what a gentleman is.
You see, my idea of a gentleman....
If I owned a paper and didn't like the way somebody was doing things...
...some politician, I'd fight him with all I had.
I wouldn't show him in a convict suit...
...so his family could see his picture in the paper.
-You're a cheap, crooked grafter-- -We're talking now about what you are.
I'm fighting for my life, not just my political life.
-He said unless you-- -That's what I said.
Here's the chance I'm willing to give him. It's more of a chance than he'd give me.
Unless he decides by tomorrow that he's so sick he has to go away for a year...
...Monday morning, all papers in the state, except his, will carry the story I'll give.
What story?
-The story about him and Ms. Alexander. -There isn't any story!
Shut up.
We've got evidence that would look bad in the headlines.
Do you want me to give you the evidence?
I'd rather he withdrew without having the story published.
Not that I care about him, but I'd be better off that way.
So would you, Mrs. Kane.
What about me?
He said my name would be dragged through the mud. That everywhere I went--
There seems to be only one decision you can make, Charles.
I'd say that it'd been made for you.
You can't tell me the voters of this state--
I'm not interested in the voters of this state right now.
I am interested in our son.
-Charlie, if they publish this story-- -They won't.
Good night, Mr. Gettys.
Are you coming, Charles?
No.
I'm staying here.
I can fight this all alone.
If you don't listen to reason, it may be too late.
Too late? For what?
For you and this public thief...
...to take the love of the people away from me?
You got other things to think about. Your little boy.
You don't want him to read about you in the papers.
There's only one person in the world to decide what I'll do. And that's me.
You decided what you were going to do, Charles, some time ago.
You're making a bigger fool of yourself than I thought.
-I've got nothing to say to you. -You're licked--
Get out. If you want to see me, have the warden write me a letter.
If it was anybody else, I'd say what's going to happen to you would be a lesson to you.
Only you're going to need more than one lesson.
-And you'll get more than one lesson. -Don't worry about me, Gettys.
Don't worry about me!
I'm Charles Foster Kane!
I'm no cheap, crooked politician trying to save himself...
...from the consequences of his crimes!
Gettys! I'm gonna send you to Sing Sing.
Sing Sing, Gettys.
-Have you a car, Mrs. Kane? -Yes, thank you.
-Good night. -Good night.
Paper. Read all about it. Extra, extra.
-Paper? -No, thanks.
With a million majority already against him...
...and the church counties still to be heard from...
...I'm afraid we got no choice.
This one?
That one.
Good night again.
-ls there anything I can-- -No, thanks, Mr. Bernstein.
You better go home and get some sleep.
You, too.
Good night, Mr. Kane.
-Hello, Jedediah. -I'm drunk.
If you've got drunk to talk to me about...
...Ms. Alexander, don't bother.
I'm not interested.
I've set back the sacred cause of reform, is that it?
All right.
If that's the way they want it, the people have made their choice.
It's obvious the people prefer Jim Gettys to me.
You talk about the people as though you owned them.
As though they belong to you. Goodness.
As long as I can remember, you've talked about giving the people their rights...
...as if you could make them a present of liberty...
...as a reward for services rendered.
-Jed. -You remember the workingman?
I'll get drunk, too, Jedediah...
...if it'll do any good.
It won't do any good. Besides you never get drunk.
You used to write an awful lot about the workingman--
Go on home.
He's turning into something called "organized labor."
You won't like that one little bit when you find out...
...it means your workingman expects something as his right, and not your gift.
When your precious underprivileged really get together....
Oh, boy....
That'll add up to something bigger than your privilege...
...then I don't know what you'll do.
Sail away to a desert island probably and lord it over the monkeys.
I wouldn't worry about it too much.
There'll probably be a few of them there to tell me when I do something wrong.
You may not always be so lucky.
You're not very drunk.
Drunk, what do you care?
You don't care about anything except you.
You persuade people that you love them so much that they ought to love you back.
Only you want love on your own terms.
It's something to be played your way, according to your rules.
-Let me work on the Chicago paper. -What?
You said you were looking for someone to do dramatic "crimitism," criticism.
I am drunk.
I want to go to Chicago.
You're too valuable here.
-There's nothing left for me to do-- -All right, you can go to Chicago.
Thank you.
I guess I'd better try to get drunk anyway.
I warn you, Jedediah, you won't like Chicago.
The wind comes off the lake, and they've probably never heard of Lobster Newburg.
Will Saturday after next be all right?
-Anytime you say. -Thank you.
A toast to love on my terms. Those are the only terms anybody knows:
His own.
Mr. Kane, I'm from the Inquirer..
-What's that, young man? -Are you through with politics?
Am I through with politics? I would say vice versa.
We're going to be an opera star.
Are you singing at the Metropolitan?
We certainly are.
Charlie said if I didn't, he'd build me an opera house.
That won't be necessary.
No, no, no!
Places, please!