It's the pictures that got small

At a time when the Classical period of American film was coming to an end, and the foreign concepts of film noir and the 'auteurship' of movies had begun their invasion of Hollywood, Billy Wilder was already making post-modern studies of how the industry affected people. Right out of the box-office, Sunset Boulevard, was considered an instant classic as well as a fetching look at the lives of a culture that was just embracing it's second phase; the post-war, post-studio time when the big stars who had been treated like American Royalty from the very beginning were realising that their time had come and gone.

We don't need any more self-reflexive movies about fallen stars dripping with narcissism, middle-aged angst and a misplaced sense of time. Not when we have the brilliant Gloria Swanson, who was playing herself, under the name of Norma Desmond; a 53 year old former queen of the silent era, unimaginably rich yet unemployed for at least 2 decades. Desmond lives in a massive mansion, filled with photos, portraits and trinkets dedicated to herself, with an utterly, loyal butler, and nothing else.

Nothing, that is, until Joe Gillis, a 'burning-out' cynical screenwriter unable to sell his stories, accidentally walks into Norma's house. It's easy to imagine what happens next, and Wilder, who had already perfected his noir style with the standard-setting Double Indemnity, a few years earlier, quickly takes us down the path were Joe thinks he's got himself an easy job rewriting a script for Norma's 'return to fame'. Instead, he gets entrapped by the convenience of rich living while also acting as a plaything for Norma.

Things seem to be going on in this way, but it's never okay, never normal, this awkward relationship is always on edge, teetering on the edge of Norma's obsessiveness. And soon enough, Norma's claw like hands grab Joe's hair as she responds to his claim that he hadn't done anything, with a trite, "I know. I wouldn't let you." By the time Norma arranges an entire New Years party just for the two of them, Joe tries to make his first escape, back into the life with people of the same age, but is brought back by the news of Norma's attempted suicide.

Wilder directs in that early realist noir style, when excessive stylization hadn't become the norm yet and the film focused on erasing the form and simply telling the story, except for Joe's voice over narration. Several periods of melodrama in the film almost seem 'cute', in the same way that teenagers can talk about their grandparents as being sweet, and some of the supporting actors hail back to that representational time when one actually raised one's hand to the brow in anguish.

At the same time, we're also given a nice little look at 50's Hollywood, with plenty of name dropping and a significant cameo from Cecil B Demille (and smaller ones from silent stars Buster Keaton, Anna Nilsson and old Mr. H.B. Warner). The supporting cast, primarily Norma's butler Max, played by Eric von Stroheim, and Betty Schafer, a wannabe screenwriter who falls in love with Joe, put in very interesting performances, and fill out fascinating characters. Max alone, with a twist of a back story (I don't want to ruin it for you), as far as I'm concerned, seems to be the sort of person I would make a film about rather than yet another look at a self-obsessed, limelight seeking actor, but of course that belies a weariness of the sub-genre that might not have been present in 1950.

Hailed by many critics, including Roger Ebert, as 'the best film about films', Sunset Boulevard definitely deserves one viewing, and if you're as geeky about film as me, that first viewing would follow a quick google regarding the real stories behind the characters who are said to be combination of various early era film personalities, followed by, of course, another viewing. If you have the opportunity to watch it, especially on the big screen, please do.

My favorite lines from the movie, and naturally the ones most quoted (although there are plenty of gems in this classic), are from the following conversation;

Joe: You're Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big.
Norma: I *am* big. It's the *pictures* that got small.
Joe: I knew there was something wrong with them.

(Oh, Drew Casper would be proud)

(Obviously, there's plenty more to be said about this movie. The pacing is great, the acting if i didn't make it clear is spot on, there's a lot of comfort to be had in friendly narration, and the references to the early Hollywood era goes past just the characters and extends to various shots and montages, and that brilliantly surrealistic ending, but I'll leave that to better and more knowledgeable writers. Here's Ebert's review)