SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950) *** Welcome to the Hotel California...weird scenes inside the gold mine. Dictatorship of the spotlight. Dead man talking. Mirrors of reality when Gloria Swanson directs Erich von Stroheim. An accent and contrast angle of Hollywood may never have been more accurately depicted than Billy Wilder's frantic script driving for a big line or scene, Swanson's vainglorious overacting in the Norma Desmond part where it would hardly seem possible, and William Holden's monotonous delivery that borders on pharmacological. Who'd want him around anyway? Or her milieu of glamour shots? But that's the magic of Hollywood, isn't it? No one gets what they want, nobody gets what they need. Despair for the long term contract without options. You can check out any time you like, but it won't get you anywhere, and you can't hold it long enough to understand, and you know you can't take any of it with you. What more could anyone want? In heaven they have tournament productions of this with Joan Crawford and Bette Davis alternating in the lead role.
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