Review of Sunset Boulevard

"Sunset Boulevard," Billy Wilder's barbed take on the Hollywood studio system during its heyday is by turns volatile, funny, suspenseful, and--at its core--more than a little creepy. By today's standards, this 1950 film still takes some relevant shots at an industry that seldom acknowledges its superficiality, but is also just as dated in other regards. Wilder takes a truly original concept, bending Film Noir, satire, comedy, and pathos in the telling of Joe Gillis (William Holden), a down-on-his-luck screenwriter (the repo men are threatening to take his car, for Pete's sake!), who winds up all but imprisoned in the lonely, secluded mansion of Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), a washed-up silent-film starlet harboring delusions of a comeback. When drafted to revise Desmond's self-scripted version of "Salome," Joe becomes very aware of his unhinged provider, and quickly begins a collaboration with the young, rhinoplasty-friendly Betty Schaefer (Nancy Olson). While Holden and Olson are--in the midst of this send-up--fresh-faced stars, "Sunset Boulevard"'s axis of madness hinges squarely on Swanson's full-bore performance, a blend of incestuous sexuality and mid-life crisis (she makes Baby Jane seem warm and cuddly by comparison) that makes her advances on Holden genuinely unappealing. The performance is a bit more tricky than one might give credit--as a woman whose fame has declined, her sustained hunger for it fuels her delusion, therefore rendering Norma Desmond an actress who literally acts out her everyday reality, to the point where any semblance of humanity is absent (her actions and words possess the overt dramatics of a woman seeking the Best Actress Oscar). While the film is beautifully photographed and performed, the sheer ambition of the project is something of a flaw--with so many genres represented, "Sunset Boulevard" is problematic in synthesizing a coherent vision. But what is here is quite influential, and certainly worth a look.