Review by Karl Verhoven
At almost three hundred pages The Giant is a heavyweight graphic novel, but Orson Welles was larger than life in many respects. To start with, Youssef Daoudi addresses the idea that Welles’ creative life was somehow a failure as the works for which he’s best remembered began his career. “I’ve written, adapted and starred in some of the greatest works ever made” he states, and apart from being no hollow boast, it’s Daoudi’s statement of not accepting the glib assertion of Welles’ career running in reverse.
Welles narrates his own story, an imposing figure in a thick cloak and thicker cigar enveloping those in his vicinity in smoke. It’s instant atmosphere, increased by a hearty laugh feeding into the idea of Welles presenting his life as if a film script, complete with stage directions and sardonic voiceover interjections. It’s smart trickery, and it quickly becomes apparent how Daoudi takes elements characteristic of Welles’ best known works and applies them to the comics form. The starting point is costuming Welles in the distinctive garments worn for 1973 film F for Fake, at the same time suggesting the artistry behind a successful production of any kind, further emphasised by Welles’ childhood infatuation with magic tricks. The narration and staging also echo the films.
The better known achievements are dealt with in passing, as Daoudi is more interested in Welles as a person and his feelings about his creations, so most are allocated a spread or two, but the projects that didn’t happen are equally part of the man, and they’re frequently given equal space. Within this there are countless nuggets for readers familiar with Welles and his work, but not to the extent of having consumed biographies. Welles referred to Citizen Kane as “a failure story”; he circumvented the horrors of New York traffic by driving an ambulance, siren screaming, and after firing Welles RKO Studios amended their letterhead to include a tagline reading “Showmanship Instead of Genius”. Barely any space is allocated to anything other than creation, and anyone looking for details of Welles’ personal life will find little to pick over.
Daoudi’s method isn’t linear. He’ll leave you wanting more information about a project, then return to it later, sometimes in passing, sometimes more thoroughly, and he peppers The Giant with pithy quotes from Welles himself. “The best way to wreck an original brain is to entrust it to an institute of higher learning” is glib, but “a maverick may go his own way, but he doesn’t think it’s the only way or ever claim its the best one, except maybe for himself” is an insightful summation. It shouldn’t be suggested that the subject dictates, though, as Daoudi brings his own ideas, the most visually startling being Welles as a bull directing a film.
It’s direction that Daoudi prioritises. Films in which Welles only acted, even The Third Man, are dismissed as efforts to raise money. Considering the subject, a few lapses into indulgence are acceptable and don’t derail a thorough extrapolation of how Welles approached his art. It’s individual, insightful and fascinating.
