Sunset Blvd

I think this stands out among noirs because though it is the stylistic equal of the best of them, it is first and foremost a character study. Three seriously fucked-up but completely believable characters. The silent-era has-been with three failed marriages, two unaccounted-for, and a recently deceased pet chimpanzee, beloved for reasons we don’t want to imagine. The hack screenwriter who’d prefer life as a gigolo to honest work and true love. The butler devoted to keeping his employer’s deranged fantasy of “a return” to Hollywood stardom alive, for quite fascinating and disturbing reasons, but I wouldn’t want to spoil that for you.

I don’t think Sunset can touch it’s coeval, All About Eve, though, and that’s reflected by the rare correct call by the Academy. Still, the Best Actress pick, that’s a tough one (wouldn’t be surprised if I go back on forth on this, but for now you’ll find my choice here). Gloria Swanson’s rightly over-the-top performance, in which every arch of an eyebrow, every extension of a finger, seems carefully modulated? (They all say it’s Keith Richards, but don’t you think Johnny Depp drew a little from Norma Desmond for his role in Pirates of the Caribbean?) Or the inimitable Bette Davis’ self-mocking and snarking portrayal of Margaret Channing, easily one of my ten favorite characters ever recorded on screen? Still, either would be a better choice than Judy Holliday. Blasphemy.