"I used to live like Robinson Crusoe; I mean, shipwrecked among 8 million people. And then one day I saw a footprint in the sand, and there you were." - Calvin Baxter
"The Apartment" stars Jack Lemmon as Calvin Baxter, a worker at Consolidated Life, a New York insurance film. Desperate to ascend the corporate ladder, Baxter begins prostituting himself by becoming a kind of pimp; to his superiors he passes around the key to his bachelor apartment so that they may slip into their busy schedules casual sex with women other than their wives.
Directed by Billy Wilder, "The Apartment" contrasts the likability and good naturedness of Baxter with the depravity "necessary" for him to get ahead. In "The Apartment", competency and ambition account for very little. What matters, rather, is one's willingness to degrade and torture oneself, Baxter forced to give up his bed to his superiors, who dangle before him promises of promotion and keys to executive washrooms. Baxter consents to this sexual harassment by proxy. It is, he believes, a good career move.
Wilder introduces us to Fran Kubelik (the delightful Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator at Consolidated Life. Baxter's madly in love with Fran, but she's having an affair with the head of personnel, Jeff D. Sheldrake (the inimitable Fred MacMurray), who keeps promising to leave his wife and marry Fran. Of course Jeff has no intention of doing this. Fran's situation thus parallels Baxter's, though Wilder never treats them as simple victims; for disrupting marriages, both Fran and Baxter are burdened by guilt, and both are always complicit in the behaviour of their bosses.
"The Apartment's" second half finds Baxter becoming preoccupied with becoming a "mensch" - a good man - rather than a financially successful one. One cannot be both, the film implies. It ends with Baxter and Fran eventually turning their backs on Consolidated Life. Futures uncertain, they huddle together on Christmas Eve.
Though overlong, "The Apartment" is elevated by some exquisite production design. Wilder's shots of oppressive corporations, workers dutifully arranged in elongated rows, recall Chaplin's "Modern Times", Lang's "Metropolis" and Vidor's "The Crowd". Elsewhere he sketches a New York awash with gorgeous clubs, theatre-houses and lonely bars. But it's in its titular apartment - designed by Austro-Hungaria-born Alexandre Trauner - that the film spends most of its time. Here Baxter seems to exist in a permanent state of agitation, his home repeatedly violated by his employers, both psychically and literally. When bosses aren't coming and going, all Baxter's free time seems to be spent fretting about promotions, duties and tomorrow's work. Insideously, Consolidated Life has intruded into every aspect of Baxter's life. This inseparability begins to annoy Baxter - when will his real life begin? - an exhaustive state of mind which Wilder alludes to with annoying television advertisements (Baxter never gets to watch the programmes he wishes) and frustrating knocks at doors.
Wilder's known for two of cinema's greatest film noirs. In "The Apartment" he uses a similar aesthetic, voluminous patches of black bleeding their way into beautiful panels of grey and white. The film's subtext and sets - sinister, looming - counterpoint its surface activities, which are comedic, farcical and filled with volleys of wisecracks. Beautifully scored by Adolph Deutsch.
8.5/10 – See "Glengarry Glen Ross".
"The Apartment" stars Jack Lemmon as Calvin Baxter, a worker at Consolidated Life, a New York insurance film. Desperate to ascend the corporate ladder, Baxter begins prostituting himself by becoming a kind of pimp; to his superiors he passes around the key to his bachelor apartment so that they may slip into their busy schedules casual sex with women other than their wives.
Directed by Billy Wilder, "The Apartment" contrasts the likability and good naturedness of Baxter with the depravity "necessary" for him to get ahead. In "The Apartment", competency and ambition account for very little. What matters, rather, is one's willingness to degrade and torture oneself, Baxter forced to give up his bed to his superiors, who dangle before him promises of promotion and keys to executive washrooms. Baxter consents to this sexual harassment by proxy. It is, he believes, a good career move.
Wilder introduces us to Fran Kubelik (the delightful Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator at Consolidated Life. Baxter's madly in love with Fran, but she's having an affair with the head of personnel, Jeff D. Sheldrake (the inimitable Fred MacMurray), who keeps promising to leave his wife and marry Fran. Of course Jeff has no intention of doing this. Fran's situation thus parallels Baxter's, though Wilder never treats them as simple victims; for disrupting marriages, both Fran and Baxter are burdened by guilt, and both are always complicit in the behaviour of their bosses.
"The Apartment's" second half finds Baxter becoming preoccupied with becoming a "mensch" - a good man - rather than a financially successful one. One cannot be both, the film implies. It ends with Baxter and Fran eventually turning their backs on Consolidated Life. Futures uncertain, they huddle together on Christmas Eve.
Though overlong, "The Apartment" is elevated by some exquisite production design. Wilder's shots of oppressive corporations, workers dutifully arranged in elongated rows, recall Chaplin's "Modern Times", Lang's "Metropolis" and Vidor's "The Crowd". Elsewhere he sketches a New York awash with gorgeous clubs, theatre-houses and lonely bars. But it's in its titular apartment - designed by Austro-Hungaria-born Alexandre Trauner - that the film spends most of its time. Here Baxter seems to exist in a permanent state of agitation, his home repeatedly violated by his employers, both psychically and literally. When bosses aren't coming and going, all Baxter's free time seems to be spent fretting about promotions, duties and tomorrow's work. Insideously, Consolidated Life has intruded into every aspect of Baxter's life. This inseparability begins to annoy Baxter - when will his real life begin? - an exhaustive state of mind which Wilder alludes to with annoying television advertisements (Baxter never gets to watch the programmes he wishes) and frustrating knocks at doors.
Wilder's known for two of cinema's greatest film noirs. In "The Apartment" he uses a similar aesthetic, voluminous patches of black bleeding their way into beautiful panels of grey and white. The film's subtext and sets - sinister, looming - counterpoint its surface activities, which are comedic, farcical and filled with volleys of wisecracks. Beautifully scored by Adolph Deutsch.
8.5/10 – See "Glengarry Glen Ross".