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...
...I 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.
Is 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.
Is 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 vincerò'
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.
Is 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.
Mr. Leland is writing it from the dramatic angle?
And we've covered it from the news end. - And the social.
How about the music notice?
Yes, it's already made up.
Mr. Mowan wrote a swell review.
Enthusiastic? - Yes, sir.
Mr. Kane. This is a surprise.
We've got two spreads of pictures.
The music notice on the front page?
But there's still one notice to come. The dramatic.
The dramatic notice.
Mr. Bernstein, that's Mr. Leland, isn't it? - Yes, we're waiting for it.
Where is he? - Right in there, Mr. Kane.
Mr. Kane.
Mr. Leland and Mr. Kane...
...haven't spoken together for years.
You don't suppose... - There's nothing to suppose.
Excuse me.
Close the door.
He ain't been drinking before.
Never. We would have heard.
What does it say there?
The notice, what's he written?
'Miss Susan Alexander, a pretty but hopelessly incompetent amateur...
'... last night opened the new Chicago Opera House...
'... in a performance of...'
I still can't pronounce that name.
'Her singing, happily, is no concern of this department.
'Of her acting, it is absolutely impossible to...'
Go on.
That's all there is.
Of her acting it is absolutely impossible to say anything except...
...that, in the opinion of this reviewer, it represents a new low.
In the opinion of this reviewer. - I didn't see that.
It isn't here, Mr. Bernstein, I'm dictating it.
Mr. Kane, I... - Get me a typewriter.
I'm going to finish Mr. Leland's notice.
Hello, Bernstein.
Hello. - Hello, Mr. Leland.
Where's my notice, Bernstein? I've got to finish my notice.
Mr. Kane is finishing it for you. - Charlie?
Charlie out there?
I guess he's fixing it up.
I knew I'd never get that through.
Mr. Kane's finishing your review just the way you started it.
He's writing a bad notice like you wanted it to be.
I guess that'll show you.
Hello, Jedediah.
Hello, Charlie.
I didn't know we were speaking.
Sure we're speaking, Jedediah.
You're fired.
Everybody knows that story. Mr. Leland. But why did he do it?
How could a man write a notice... - You just don't know Charlie.
He thought that by finishing that notice he'd show me he was an honest man.
He was always trying to prove something.
That whole thing about Susie being an opera singer.
That was trying to prove something.
You know what the headline was the day before the election?
'Candidate Kane found in love nest with 'singer.'
He was going to take the quotes off the singer.
Hey, nurse.
Five years ago he wrote from that place down there in the South.
What's it called, Shangri-la? El Dorado? Sloppy Joe's? What's the name?
All right, Xanadu, I knew it all the time.
You caught on, didn't you? I'm not that hard to see through.
Well, I never even answered his letter.
Maybe I should have.
I guess he was pretty lonely down there in that coliseum all those years.
He hadn't finished it when she left him. He never finished it.
He never finished anything except my notice.
Of course, he built the joint for her. - That must have been love.
I don't know.
He was disappointed in the world so he built his own, an absolute monarchy.
It was something bigger than an opera house anyway.
Nurse. - Yes, Mr. Leland.
I'm coming.
There's one thing you can do for me. - Sure.
Stop at the cigar store on your way out, and get me a couple of good cigars.
Be glad to. - Thank you.
One is enough.
When I was a young man, there was an impression that nurses were pretty.
Well, it was no truer then than it is today.
I'll take your arm. - All right.
You won't forget about those cigars? - I won't.
Have them wrapped like toothpaste, or they'll stop them at the desk.
You know that young doctor I was telling you about, well...
...he's got an idea he wants to keep me alive.
I'd rather you'd just talk. Anything that comes into your mind...
...about yourself and Mr. Kane.
You don't want to hear what comes into my mind about myself and Charlie Kane.
You know, maybe I shouldn't have sung for Charlie that first time I met him.
But I did an awful lot of singing after that.
I sang for teachers at $100 an hour.
The teachers got that, I didn't. - What did you get?
I didn't get a thing, except music lessons. That's all there was in it.
He married you, didn't he?
He didn't mention anything about marriage until after it was over and...
...until it got in the papers about us...
...and he lost the election, and that Norton woman divorced him.
He was really interested in my voice.
Why did he build that opera house?
I didn't want it. I didn't want a thing. It was his idea.
Everything was his idea...
...except my leaving him.
'Don't forget'
Don't get nervous.
Please. Let's come back.
Look at me, Mrs. Kane, darling.
'Get the voice out of the throat Place the tone right in the mask...
'Diaphragm'
You're out of pitch.
Some people can sing. Some can't.
Impossible.
It's not your job to give your opinion of Mrs. Kane's talents.
You're supposed to train her voice, Signor Matiste. Nothing more.
Please continue with the lesson.
But, Mr. Kane. - Please.
I'll be the laughingstock of the musical world. People will think...
You're concerned what people will think?
Perhaps I can enlighten you a bit. I'm an authority on what people will think.
The newspapers for example.
I run several newspapers between here and San Francisco.
It's all right, darling.
Signor Matiste is going to listen to reason.
How can I persuade you... - You can't.
It's all right, darling, go ahead.
I thought you'd see it my way.
No, no, no.
'Ah. Cruel...
'Tu m'as trop entendue...
'Les Dieux m'en sont témoins...
'Ces Dieux qui dans mon flanc...
'Ont allumé...
'Le feu fatal...
'A tout mon sang...
'Dites-moi comment j'expie...
'Ce péché si fort...
'Toujours remplie...
'Je ne peux pas résister encore...
'Oh Dieux. Arrachez-moi...
'Ces feux fatals'
I think it's dreadful.
'Allument ma mort...
'Voilà mon cœur...
'C'est Ià que ta main doit frapper...
'Voilà mon cœur...
'Frappe...
'Prête-moi ton épée...
'Frappe'
Stop telling me he's your friend.
A friend don't write that kind of review.
All these other papers panning me, I could expect that.
But for the Inquirer to run a thing like that, spoiling my whole debut.
Come in.
I'll get it.
Friend. Not the kind of friends I know...
...but I'm not high class like you.
And I never went to any swell schools.
That'll be enough, Susan.
From Mr. Leland, sir.
He wanted me to make sure you got this personally.
Is that something from him?
Charlie.
As for you, you ought to have your head examined.
Sending him a letter telling him he's fired...
...with a $25,000 check in it.
What kind of firing do you call that?
You did send him a check for $25,000, didn't you?
Yes.
I sent him a check for $25,000.
What's that?
Declaration of Principles.
What?
What is it?
An antique.
You're awful funny, aren't you?
I'll tell you one thing you're not going to be funny about, and that's my singing.
I'm through.
I never wanted to do it in the first place.
You'll continue with your singing, Susan.
I don't propose to have myself made ridiculous.
You don't propose to have yourself made ridiculous.
What about me? I'm the one that has to sing.
I'm the one that gets the raspberries.
Why don't you leave me alone?
My reasons satisfy me, Susan.
You seem unable to understand them.
I will not tell them to you again.
You'll continue with your singing.
Get Dr. Corey.
Susan.
She'll be perfectly all right in a day or two, Mr. Kane.
I can't imagine how Mrs. Kane came to make such a foolish mistake.
The sedative Dr. Wagner gave her was in a somewhat larger bottle.
The strain of preparing for the new opera has excited and confused her.
Yes, I'm sure that was it.
No objections to my staying with her are there?
No, not at all. I'd like the nurse to be here, too.
Good night, Mr. Kane.
Charlie.
I couldn't make you see how I felt, Charlie.
But I couldn't go through with the singing again.
You don't know what it means to know that people...
That the whole audience doesn't want you.
That's when you got to fight them.
All right.
You won't have to fight them anymore.
It's their loss.
What are you doing?
Jigsaw puzzles?
Charlie, what time is it?
11:30.
In New York?
I said what time is it in New York?
11:30. - Night?
The Bulldog's just gone to press.
Well, hurray for the Bulldog.
Gee, 11:30. Shows are just getting up.
People are going to nightclubs and restaurants.
Of course, we're different because we live in a palace.
You always said you wanted to live in a palace.
A person could go crazy in this dump.
Nobody to talk to, nobody to have any fun with.
49,000 acres of nothing but scenery and statues.
I'm lonesome.
Until yesterday, we've had no less than 50 of your friends at any one time.
I think if you look in the west wing...
...you'll probably find a dozen vacationists still in residence.
You make a joke out of everything.
Charlie, I want to go to New York. I'm tired of being a hostess.
I want to have fun. Please, Charlie.
Charlie, please.
Our home is here, Susan.
I don't care to visit New York.
What are you doing?
One thing I can never understand:
How do you know you haven't done it before?
It makes a whole lot more sense than collecting statues.
You may be right.
I sometimes wonder...
...but you get into the habit.
It's not a habit, I do it because I like it.
I thought we might have a picnic tomorrow.
Invite everybody to spend the night at the Everglades.
Invite everybody. Order everybody, you mean, and make them sleep in tents.
Who wants to sleep in tents when they've got their own room...
...with a bath, where they know where everything is?
I thought we might have a picnic tomorrow.
You never give me anything I really care about.
'It can't be love...
'For there is no true love...
'I know I've played at the game...
'Like a moth in a blue flame...
'Lost in the end, just the same...
'All these years...
'My heart's been floating around in a puddle of tears...
'I wonder what it is'
Sure, you give me things, but that don't mean anything to you.
You're in a tent, darling, you're not at home.
I can hear you very well if you speak in a normal tone of voice.
What's the difference between giving me a bracelet or giving someone $100,000...
...for a statue you'll keep crated up and never look at?
It's just money. It doesn't mean anything.
You never really gave me anything that you care about.
I want you to stop this.
I'm not going to stop it.
You never gave me anything in your life.
You just tried to buy me into giving you something.
'It can't be love'
Whatever I do, I do because I love you.
You don't love me.
You want me to love you.
Sure.'I'm Charles Foster Kane.
'Whatever you want, just name it and it's yours.
'But you gotta love me.'
Don't tell me you're sorry.
I'm not sorry.
Mr. Kane?
Mrs. Kane would like to see you, sir.
Marie has been packing for her since morning.
Tell Arnold I'm ready, Marie. Tell him he can get the bags.
Yes, madame.
Have you gone completely crazy?
Don't you know that our guests, that everyone will know about this?
Packed your bag, sent for the car...
And left you?
Of course they'll hear.
I'm not saying goodbye, except to you.
But I never imagined people wouldn't know.
I won't let you go.
Goodbye, Charlie.
Susan.
Please don't go.
Please, Susan.
From now on, everything will be exactly the way you want it to be.
Not the way I think you want it, but...
...your way.
You mustn't go.
You can't do this to me.
I see.
It's you that this is being done to.
It's not me at all.
Not what it means to me.
I can't do this to you?
Oh, yes, I can.
In case you haven't heard, I lost all my money and it was plenty.
The last 10 years have been difficult for many.
They haven't been tough on me. I just lost all my money.
You're going down to Xanadu? - Monday, with boys from the office.
Mr. Rawlston wants the whole place photographed.
We run a picture magazine.
If you're smart, you'll get in touch with Raymond. He's the butler.
You'll learn a lot from him.
He knows where all the bodies are buried.
You know, all the same, I feel kind of sorry for Mr. Kane.
Don't you think I do?
What do you know, it's morning already.
Come around and tell me the story of your life sometime.
Rosebud?
I'll tell you about Rosebud.
How much is it worth to you?
$1,000?
Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Thompson.
He acted funny sometimes, you know? - No, I didn't.
Yes, he did crazy things sometimes.
I've been working for him 11 years now...
...in charge of the whole place, so I ought to know.
Rosebud. - Yes.
Like I tell you, the old man acted kind of funny sometimes...
...but I knew how to handle him... - Need a lot of service?
But I knew how to handle him.
Like that time his wife left.
Rosebud.
I see.
And that's what you know about Rosebud?
I heard him say it that other time, too.
He just said:
'Rosebud.'
Then he dropped the glass ball and it broke on the floor.
He didn't say anything after that, and I knew he was dead.
He said all kinds of things that didn't mean anything.
Sentimental fellow, aren't you?
Yes and no. - That isn't worth $1,000.
You can keep on asking questions if you want to.
We're leaving tonight...
...when we're through taking pictures.
Allow yourself plenty of time.
The train stops at the junction on signal, but they don't like to wait.
I can remember when they'd wait all day...
...if Mr. Kane said so.
Better get going.
Can we come down? - Yes, hurry up. We're leaving.
How much do you think this is all worth, Mr. Thompson?
Millions.
If anybody wants it.
Well, at least he brought all this stuff to America.
What's that? - Another Venus.
$25,000.
A lot of money to pay for a dame without a head.
The banks are out of luck?
They'll clear all right. - He never threw anything away.
'Welcome home, Mr. Kane, from 467 employees of the New York Inquirer.'
'One stove from the estate of Mary Kane, Little Salem, Colorado. Value: $2.'
We're supposed to get everything, junk as well as art.
He sure liked to collect things.
Anything and everything.
A regular crow, eh?
Hey, look, a jigsaw puzzle. - We got a lot of those.
A Burmese temple and three Spanish ceilings down the hall.
Part of a Scotch castle...
...that needs to be unwrapped.
Put all this stuff together:
The palaces and the paintings, and the toys and everything.
What would it spell?
Charles Foster Kane? - Or Rosebud.
How about it, Jerry? - What's Rosebud?
That's what he said when he died.
Did you ever find out what it means?
No, I didn't. - What did you find out about him?
Not much, really.
We'd better get started.
What have you been doing all this time?
Playing with a jigsaw puzzle.
If you'd discovered what Rosebud meant, I bet it would've explained everything.
No, I don't think so.
No.
He was a man who got everything he wanted, and then lost it.
Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get or something he lost.
It wouldn't have explained anything.
I don't think any word can explain a man's life.
No. I guess Rosebud is just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
A missing piece.
Come on, everybody...
...we'll miss the train.
Throw that junk in.
Maybe I was what you nowadays call a stooge.
Everything was his idea...
...except my leaving him.
I've got his trunk all packed.
I've had it packed for a week now.
Sometimes I think I'd prefer a rival of flesh and blood.
You're gonna need more than one lesson.
And you'll get more than one lesson.
Who's a busy man, me?
I'm chairman of the board. I got nothing but time.
What do you want to know?
We thought... If we could find out what he meant by his last words as he was dying...
Sentimental fellow, aren't you?
Yes and no.
'I think it would be fun to run a newspaper.'