It is a well known truth that sometimes greatness is isn't immediately seen. So often in life, it is only with a second view that people see real talent and true achievement. Cinema is no different. Everyone can think of a film that was a failure upon its release only to be reappraised later, The Shawshank Redemption, Withnail & I and Kingdom of Heaven are obvious examples. Today's flick of the day, Sweet Smell of Success is another. One of the great noir pictures of the 1950's, it was an ignominious failure on release but over the years has come to be seen for what it is, a classic plain and simple.
Tony Curtis is a grasping and oily young press agent named Sydney Falco, a man who spends his nights listening,cajoling and schmoozing in the New York night scene on behalf of his clients. His business lives and dies by the items of gossip and innuendo he can place with the various newspaper columnists who can destroy a career with a single column and make it with an another. Sydney has fallen foul of the most powerful of them all, J.J. Hunsecker played by a brilliant Burt Lancaster. Hunsecker wields his power like a weapon, using it to beat down anyone who crosses him. This now includes Sydney who J.J. had inveigled into attempting to break up the relationship between J.J's sister and an up and coming jazz musician without success. He gives Falco a second chance but asks him to plant marijuana on the musician. How low is Falco prepared to go to please the malignant Hunsecker?
Lancaster is deliciously evil as the columnist without any scruples. One of the all time great cinema villains, the character was modelled on the powerful columnist Walter Winchell which drew his ire and garnered the film unfavourable reviews on its release. Hunsecker is dark and right wing and willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants. The dialogue sparks in short, staccato sentences with some great put downs.
J.J. Hunsecker: Mr. Falco, let it be said at once, is a man of 40 faces, not one - none too pretty, and all deceptive. You see that grin? That's the, eh, that's the Charming Street Urchin face. It's part of his helpless act: he throws himself upon your mercy. He's got a half-dozen faces for the ladies. But the one I like, the really cute one, is the quick, dependable chap. Nothing he won't do for you in a pinch - so he says. Mr. Falco, whom I did not invite to sit at this table tonight, is a hungry press agent, and fully up to all the tricks of his very slimy trade.
The back and forth between the two morally corrupt characters of Curtis and Lancaster is a joy to watch. The other star of the show is of course the shadows and light which colour the city at night. From the glitz and neon of the nightclubs and Broadway to the dimly lit after hours bars.
One of the last great New York noirs, the black and white photography is perfectly suited to the mood of the film which is decidedly downbeat and pessimistic. Hunsecker is not brought low despite his actions though Sydney does partially redeem himself by doing the right thing, proving that their are depths to which even a press agent will not sink.
J.J. Hunsecker: Harvey, I often wish I were dead and wore a hearing aid. With a simple flick of a switch, I could shut out the greedy murmur of little men.
A great dialogue driven script, a fine cast and an Elmer Bernstein score matched with stunning visuals of the city that never sleeps, this is a film that you really have to see. Directed with precision by British director Alexander Mackendrick who had already had quite a career making Ealing comedies like Whisky Galore! and The Ladykillers, this is an underrated film which has become even more relevant as the years go by foreshadowing the degeneration of the American newsmedia.
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