F for Fake ★★★★½

A film essay? A docudrama? It doesn't really matter what you call it. What can be said about the film however is how creative and ingenious it truly is.

Capitalizing on the anti-genre concept, F for Fake could have never been what it was without some of the finest editing put to film. With the help of brilliant juxtapositions scattered throughout, the film jumps back and forward through time, connecting each seemingly timeless storyline into one cohesive narrative. The result comes off as a collage of forgery and trickery. And with everything sewed impeccably together, one cannot help but say that this film lives outside of time.

With a story without a genre, with a film without a time period to lay rest, F for Fake ceases to be nothing more than amazing. Effortlessly entertaining, the film contains not one boring splotch of content throughout the 88 minute run time. This can be traced not only to the editing, but to the narration and to the story as well. Welles educates and incites the audience with composure concerning thoughts on the value of art itself. And the thought lingers throughout other parts of the film as well. But really, to appreciate it all one must watch the film.

I leave you with the Rudyard Kipling poem Welles recites from the film:
"When the flush of a newborn sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mold;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves: 'It’s pretty, but is it Art?'"

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