There's a brief essay about Orson Welles on my website, if anyone's interested:
'As David Thomson wrote in his superb biography,
Rosebud: ‘Welles was never happier than when looking back and seeing the lovely projection of his hopes.’ This is key: it is a clue to the secret of Orson Welles’s artistic vision. On the surface, it appears that Thomson is merely noting Orson’s vanity, his penchant for nostalgia, the obsessive building and rebuilding of the monument to himself. Certainly, his triumphs were remarkable, memorable, and have ensured the kind of ersatz immortality in which this myopic modern age specialises. But those triumphs were past, Welles’s hopes long dashed – why
did he ruin his reputation?'
The Immortal Story: Orson Welles & the Art of Lying