Me and Orson Welles

Someone needs to tell Zac Efron now that pouting and squinting does not equal acting, never mind expressing emotional turbulence. He might be the leading man here but he's totally overshadowed - as one might hope - by Christian McKay's Orson Welles. The very definition of larger than life, Welles is brilliant, maddening and utterly ruthless, winning over people by sheer force of personality but always using them for his own ends (watch how he takes over the radio broadcast with no regard for his fellow actors) That makes his whispered, unheard, "thank you" to the retreating John Houseman all the more touching. He's had full scale rows with his producer, hurling insults at him, and yet deep down he *does* appreciate all his hard work - even if he can't admit publically. Unfortunately there's far too much time spent on Zac and the immensely annoying Clare Danes and nowhere near enough on the Mercury Theatre company and their groundbreaking production of Julius Caesar. Even in snapshop this comes across as far more interesting than the callow leads' relationship (Joseph Cotten is absolutely spot-on for a start) We're told how innovative this production will be but it's all so fragmentary that it has to be taken on trust, though McKay-as-Welles-as-Brutus gives some indication of the power of the interpretation. This was what I wanted to see. Alas, too much "Me" and not enough "Orson Welles"...