Thursday, November 21, 2019

Noirvember, 2019: Sunset Boulevard (1950)



Is Billy Wilder the most versatile director that's ever lived?   It's quite possible.  The man has made films across a multitude of genres and, not just films, but masterpieces at that.  Films that make the AFI top 100 list.  Those type of films.  He's got three films in the top 30 alone ("Double Indemnity" at 29,  "Some Like it Hot" at 22, and this one at 15).  That's kind of amazing.  Only two other guys have two in the top 30 (Hitchcock and Coppola).  Note: I scanned the list...I didn't study it so don't get angry if I missed a guy (another note: After scanning the list a 2nd time I missed Spielberg and Capra who both also have two films in the top 30).  Anyway, the point is that this guy Wilder probably deserves to be on the short list for greatest film director of all time.  And this film, "Sunset Boulevard", while deservedly recognized as a classic, might be just a bit too high on that list?  I don't know this is a good one.  Hell, wait, check that.  It is a great one.  Not many films open the way this one does...with a dead man in a pool narrating, from beyond the grave, how he came to be the dead man in that pool.

The film opens in Hollywood with a struggling screenwriter (William Holden as Joe Gillis, future dead man in pool) trying to sell a screenplay while saving his car (also, his home -- some things haven't really changed all that much?).  His script is rejected by a script reader (gal named Betty) and that's as far as it will go on the Paramount lot ("it's trite and flat" she says matter-of-factly).  So, Gillis upset at having his script rejected by the lowest level of the studio system (a script reader -- a glorified secretary is what I'm sure he must have been thinking and -- as he would later think and know -- someone in bed with the producer -- though to be honest, this seems more like a gatekeeper-ish type position so maybe Gillis -- and I -- are wrong in our assessment) becomes increasingly desperate as he flees some repo men (his car is his home, after all) into the Hollywood hills (Is Sunset Boulevard in the hills?  I honestly have no clue, felt like it to me -- might as well have been on another planet -- felt isolated anyway) where he conceals his car in some bushes near what appears to be a long-ago-abandoned mansion.  Turns out, not abandoned at all.  It's occupied by the once famous star of the Silent Film era, Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson -- once famous star of the Silent Film era) and her butler Max.  Max leads Gillis inside.  Swanson urges him to help her with her own script (some terrible religious epic), her attempt to reclaim the prestige she once held.   Gillis takes a job, a live-in job, with her as a script doctor and well, her would-be lover, "would-be" being the proper phrasing.  He doesn't sign up for that part.  Max, himself (played by another Silent Film legend, director Erich Von Stroheim) holds some interesting secrets.  Here's a hint, the casting in this thing is really fucking meta.  So, desperation all around I guess.

I don't have much of a connection to the Silent Film era, to be honest.  Who does these days?  What little I've seen was seen in class.  King Vidor's "The Big Parade", "The Cabinet of Dr. Calgari", "Nosferatu".  Bits and pieces of others.  Some Chaplin.  It's an era that's slowly but surely with few exceptions disappearing.  Now let's talk about how Marvel is the culprit here.  Ok, now that I have your attention....the style of acting (big and broad, over-emoting so the guy sitting in the back of the theater would get it, just like stage acting, actually) didn't really translate to sound pictures that well.  And who knew if their voices were even acceptable to general audiences once we knew what they actually sounded like?  Well, thankfully this was not really an issue with Swanson who gives a big, bold, and ultimately sad performance as Norma.  There is a scene where she crashed the set of a new film by Cecil B. Demille (played by himself) that will break your heart by cringe-ing it to pieces.  After having sent the edited script of her religious drama to a Paramount producer and being constantly rebuffed by that producer, Norma and Max drove to the lot where Demille was filming another picture.  She barged onto the set, not rudely exactly...more in the way of actually belonging...and confronted Demille who respectfully demurred talk of her script.  It's clear Demille revered her, loved her pictures, had no plans on putting her in one of his films or even looking at her script.  Turns out Paramount did want to use her car in a picture though.  I mean, it's a pretty cool car.   To his credit (and maybe discredit), Demille exclaimed "Tell (the producer) to forget the car, I'll get another".  It's not worth causing such heartache in even asking.

Things proceed to get sadder.  Norma has a big New Years bash, with a lush orchestra, champagne, rows of tables, wait staff, etc.  Gillis is the only guest to show.  Also, Max.  There's allusions to suicide attempts by Norma as well.  Gillis leaves.  Called back by Max (another suicide attempt).  Norma's desperation to be loved turns into love for Gillis.  She becomes dependent on him, not just him, but his presence.  It could be anyone.  I've got to wonder how old Max feels about all this?  As Gillis slowly begins to put his life back together, things only get worse for Norma who fears, more than anything, being used up and left behind.  As Gillis, William Holden is great in transforming from the desperate sad-sack we meet as the picture begins to the "shit, this might really happen for me" guy he becomes...before ultimately becoming the dead guy in the pool.  He starts a thing with the script reader from the beginning ("I don't want to be a script reader for the rest of my life"), steals her from the producer.  Ok, "steals" may be a bad choice of words.  It's her decision too and all.  Conned her from?  Holden's voice-over narration is probably the noir-est thing about this picture.  Also, the dead guy in the pool.  Like a lot of these noirs, everything is so god damned sad.  Flights of happiness, ultimately destroyed by waves of depression, anxiety, murder, etc.  So, this is a great one, definitely a masterpiece.  Knowing where the thing ends was initially the reason I considered docking this a few spots from #15 on the AFI list (yes, I have that power apparently).  Why?  Because I wasn't surprised by the outcome?  That's a product of an overabundance of 21st century films in my diet...and also being an idiot at times.  Of course, a good-to-great movie is never about what happens...it's almost always about how it happens (to paraphrase Roger Ebert).  And this one covers the "how" in spades.

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