New Year's Eve...

...was mild, but fun.

Here we go on the next step of the journey into the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).

Last of a bloc of films I've seen before, then on to 5 of the last 10 I haven't seen before this year (ish).  So.  There are 30 films left.  20 of them I've seen before.  I think I may get through this.

Film 70

70.  "The Apartment" (AFI Rank #80)

I think I wrote this one up last year in my aborted quest to do this the first time.  Doesn't matter.  This is about this year's reaction, and that is sometimes quite different.

Some personal trivia related to this quest:

1.  27 of the 100 films on the AFI Top 100 are Best Picture Oscar winners.  For some reason, I tended to watch these films in clumps.  This is the third Best Picture I've watched in a row.  I did/will do 3 blocs of 3, one bloc of 4, and 2 pairings, which means that 17 of the 27 were being watched back to back with other Best Picture winners.  That wasn't intentional.

2.  This is the first of 4 films in a row that I have watched that are filmed in black and white by choice, despite color films really being established as the norm when it was made.  That's a tad odd.

3.  Once again, I find myself in love with a film that has a clearly defined "act break."  That's a spoiler of what's coming, I suppose.

In this film, our third visit (of four) to the list by director Billy Wilder, we are struck by something often missing in today's filmmaking:  brilliant writing.  Yes, acting in this film is great.  Locations/pictures tend to be good to great.  What makes this film so damned good, however, is the writing.

We (Julie and I) watched this film on New Year's Eve, joined by some friends of ours, Sean, Sande, and their son, Fletcher.  Sean brought the DVD, because this is one of his favorite films.  As the film has New Year's as a major plot point, it seemed like the right time to watch it.  I have enjoyed watching these films communally, when available, and watching it with people that I care about was great.  Sean and I are detail oriented, but we see them from different perspectives.  As such, our discussions often vary widely on what is great and what isn't, but we have a mutual respect for the other's passion that supersedes our often opposite views on things.  This film, however, I think transcends differences, and I think we both feel similarly about it.

This was only my second viewing of this classic, and watching it this time, I was gobsmacked by the abrupt shift this film takes in a moment.  It starts as an absurdist comedy, rife with terrific bits of comic genius, and biting satire.  It ends as something quite different, and it all changes in one moment.  I'll get to that.

I want to talk about one scene, that, upon viewing, is an example of a bit that seems entirely too long, but when fully realized, only makes sense at the exact length that it is.  Without giving away too much of the plot, "The Apartment" is the story of an ambitious young man working in a massive insurance company as an accountant.  He wishes to advance, quickly, and as such, he has allowed a quartet of management types to use his apartment for extramarital trysts.  The young man, played by Jack Lemmon, got caught in the rain one cold evening in November while his apartment was being used, and he has taken ill as a result.  Knowing that his apartment space was reserved that night, he goes to great lengths to rearrange the schedules of four different men so that he may just get a night's rest IN HIS OWN HOME.  As the scene progresses, C.C. Baxter (Lemmon), is constantly looking up numbers in a Rolodex, calling people, asking them to swap nights, then calling other contingencies that have to happen.  It seems to go on forever.  And it does.  And every single frame, every second of it, is vital to the story, and to the film.  It's a tremendously well written scene, and it is executed to perfection by Lemmon.  In less skilled hands, be they writer, director, or actor, the scene bombs.  In these hands, it is a symphony, blending all the right notes to create a stirring conclusion.  It's brilliant, and it sums up the opening of the film so well.

What I had forgotten about, and what hit me like a truck, was a scene that flips the entire film over from wild comedy to sentimental, poignant, bittersweet heartbreak.  As Baxter advances, he continuously flirts (and asks on a date, where he is stood up) with cute as a button elevator attendant Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine).  Having grown his lend/lease business to include the head of personnel, Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) in the posse of cheaters using his home.  Arriving home one night, he finds a compact with a broken mirror on the inside.  Returning it to Sheldrake to give to his girl, Baxter is done with it.  Then, while showing off his new hat (to go with his new job as a Junior Executive) to Fran at an office Christmas party, she lends him her compact so he may see himself.  Then, like a truck slamming into us, we see Baxter use her broken-mirrored compact to study himself.  The truth is out about the woman he desperately wants, and the truth is out about Sheldrake.  From that moment on, everything in the film shifts.  It's so profound that you can actually feel it.

The conclusion of the film, I won't get into, but lots of bad things happen to Kubelik and Baxter, but eventually, everything turns out all right.  We are left with hope.

Having premiered in the same year as "Psycho," it's hard to imagine this film winning Best Picture against that masterpiece.  Yet, "Psycho" wasn't even nominated, and Billy Wilder beat out Hitchcock for Best Director.  I suppose, if pressed, I'd say "Psycho" is the better film, but I can completely understand the Academy's decision, and even applaud it for choosing this one.  It's that good.

Jack Lemmon was a dynamo, capable of wild humor, yet he was so heartbreakingly good in his dramatic moments.  He also has a hell of a drunk scene in this.  A hell of a drunk.  MacLaine was at the top of her game.  She is given a great deal to show us in this film, and she hits all the right notes.  During the scene with the broken mirror above, when Baxter tells her, "The mirror, it's broken."  Her response, crushingly delivered is "Yes.  I know.  I like it that way.  Makes me look the way I feel."  It's one of those moments that makes one wonder just what the hell happened to the wacky comedy I'd been watching.  All the men playing the executives are spot on, and their dialogue is so beautifully written that it's kinda hard to imagine them screwing it up.  Of particular note is the character of Kirkeby, who has his own corporate bullshit speak so expertly crafted that rather than say "October," he says "October-wise."  It's the perfect corporate-speak language for those who prefer not to be definite about anything, and again, it's brilliant fucking writing.  MacMurray is to be lauded as well for his performance as a cad...who has absolutely zero ability to recognize his own foibles.

Also of note is a fantastically horrifying scene involving Baxter's next-door neighbor, Dr. Dreyfuss.  I've given away one amazing moment in the film, I'm not giving away any others.  Suffice it to say that it feels real, and again...makes one go "Where's my rom-com?  What the fuck happened to my easy love story?"

Ultimately, though, "The Apartment" is great because it is so many films all in one, and none of them misses.  Details are detailed.  Sets are right.  Acting is right.  Writing is amazing.  Pictures are right.  It's a great film, because...it's a great film.  If you haven't seen it, you need to.  If you have, I have no doubt that a great deal that I've written here will ring true with you.

That's probably all I should write.  I've got 4 more films that I've watched that I need to write up, and if I gush about this one too long, I'll never get them done.  Just watch it.

Ebert's take is here.  He liked it a bit, too.