Watch the driveway you hide out in...

...because you never know when it's going to be the place you go to die.

Watching the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition) in a calendar year and posting my thoughts about them here.  Rules.  Shorter post this time.

Film 19

19.  "Sunset Blvd."  (AFI Rank #16)
This is one of the films I watched for the first time last year when attempting this little journey.  This year, of course, it feels like old hat, and a familiar story, so I was able to really watch for subtlety, nuance, etc.  I wasn't wholly absorbed in the story.  Yet, this time, the story was somehow different.

If you are one, like me last year, who hasn't seen this film, just watch it.  I'm not going to do a thorough synopsis.

So.  What struck me as unique about this film this year?

I was struck by the character of Joe Gillis (William Holden), and just how truly ill prepared he is to live in the environment in which he has immersed himself.  As a film noir, the entire film is played with Joe in the scene, except for one glorious scene in which Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) is treated like the star she...was.

Back to Joe.  The film starts out with us learning that he's a writer, down on his luck, and unable to sell an idea to any movie studio.  His car is to be repossessed, and he's...well...he's cooked.  We learn immediately that his natural tendency is to try and get things done HIS way.  So, after a chase with some repo men he bullshitted, Joe winds up on Norma Desmond's palatial property.  Seizing an opportunity that is given him, he decides to soak the crazy old film star for all he can.  Except...at no point is Joe in any control.  His every wish is taken care of by Norma and her butler, Max (Erich Von Stroheim).  Thinking he's got a pretty good deal, Joe submits to humiliating scenario after humiliating scenario, culminating with him being Norma's kept gigolo.  Yet throughout all this, one can't help but feel pity as Joe slowly realizes that his life is no longer his.  Everything about him is taken care of by others.  His life is in Norma's hands.  His screenplay idea is in the hands of Betty Schaefer.  Nothing, but nothing is in Joe's control.  Even his car is eventually discovered in her garage.  He's tried to outsmart life, and life beats him every time.

Beyond that, the film is just so damned good, start to finish.  Whether it is the cinematography (including the great shot at the top of this post), or the pace, or the relationships between the characters, Billy Wilder was at the top of his game on this one.  He shows a deft, if sometimes light, touch on most of the "pictures," but a few moments stand out.  Norma's moment bathed in the spotlight on the Paramount Studios set is genius in its composition.  As is the staging of the monkey funeral.  It all is just so expertly executed, one can't help but be in awe.  There's a moment where Norma stands up while watching one of her pictures in the home studio (also pictured above)...there are things that only film can achieve.  This one is stuffed with them.


Of course, the centerpiece of the film is Gloria Swanson's performance as Norma Desmond.  There is so much sadness, so much delusion, that it's hard to see her as what she is...a star.  One who is absolutely capable of decidedly pointed, educated, and wise decisions.  She's seen it all, and while she chooses to ignore a great deal of what she's seen...she is still capable, at times, of remarkable clarity.  Those moments are so decidedly well performed, that they, in my mind, overshadow the over the top acting required of a silent film star.  My favorite moment of hers in the film is when she is playing Chaplin's little tramp.  It is such a refreshing respite from all the dramatics...and it so grounds her at that moment...it's magic.  I've been trying to ponder a year when iconic female film roles, whether Swanson in this, Bette Davis in "All About Eve," or Judy Holliday in "Born Yesterday," mattered more.  I'm not sure I can pick one.  1950 was a hell of a year.


Of note, also, is Erich Von Stroheim as Max.  So subtle, so achingly pained, yet always pulling the strings, Max is a delight.  The scene where we find out that Max is Norma's first husband...if that doesn't get you...you can't be gotten.  We may see the story unfold through Joe's eyes, but Max is our guilty conscience.  He wants Norma to remain all that she remembers she was.  Watching him at the end, escorting her down the stairs for her DeMille close up...damn.  A powerhouse, if largely underappreciated performance.

Beyond that, there isn't a lot to say.  Somewhere in this here blog are my thoughts on this film from last year.  Maybe they make sense that I'm not today.  Ebert's take is here.

Sunset Blvd. is an important, great film.  I'm so glad it's becoming familiar to me as time goes by...and I regret the time I hadn't spent with it before.

Watch it again.  Or watch it for the first time.  It's wonderful.