Qualley shines in sexy neo noir ‘Honey Don’t’

Hollywood’s Golden Age classics have stood the test of time with as many stamina as Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard.

Released on August 10, 1950, it became a closer classic due to the savage depiction of the very industry that produced it, and the savage depiction of the terrifyingly intense performance of the former silent screen goddess Gloria Swanson, embracing the fictional history reflecting herself, as tragically confused former silent screen goddess Norma Desmond. This was one of the biggest “awards season favorites” of the year, a creative victory for the longtime director/writer team of Wilder and Charles Brackett, and as Hollywood has made it to date it still gained a reputation. It continues to become a frequently cited example of the film noir genre. A typical insider story of the film industry, meditations on the dangers of ego and the whims of fame, and awful indictment of shyness within the best and bright system before casting them before they mitigate profitability.

It’s definitely a great film, and while it’s totally worthy of the respect held in the “cinema” community, it’s reason enough to observe and celebrate the 75th anniversary, what’s noteworthy for us here at Blade is its status as one of the most beloved “gay” films of all time.

At least on the surface, it’s not that there’s explicitly “gay” about it. Certainly, when viewed at face value, it more or less adheres to traditional heterosexual “normality” in story details. A struggling screenwriter, Joe Gillis (William Holden), is an image of mid-century American masculinity. It is secular, “pretty” and never oozes out with almost self-righteous masculinity. There’s a “hustler” atmosphere about him, but certainly we Everyone knows that it has appeal to it too. He’s an attractive package enough to make a movie star – although faded, he wants to turn him into a boy with his own private rent. Considering what he looks like on these medieval swimming trunks, we can’t blame her.

Then there’s Norma. To say she is bigger than life is an understatement. Exuding a persona that speaks of what it is necessary to be seen and recognized, she ordered every room (and every movie screen) with her presence to create a place for herself. It is an identity built on the carefully mastered tricks of her trade: the height of her voice, the broad gestures, the engaging presentation that establishes her as… well, the Queen. However, she is rejected and abandoned in a world that no longer recognizes her glory, worships youth and beauty, and sees the unaged people as undesirable and unrelated. How many strange men could have been involved in it, especially during the repressive era of “Sunset Boulevard”?

Naturally, there is some camp here too, but in itself can explain the odd appeal of the film. The exaggerated acting style of silent screens is horribly embodied in Swanson’s iconic performance, adding a certain air of ridiculous and frightening, but also invites us to resonate (like all good camps).

Of course, no matter how flawed, undesirable, how stupid, or how self-serving the nuggets of this classic film are, or how human they are, we may be so human that we cannot help but be moved by them. Yes, it is ultimately a dark comedy, a full-black satirical commentary on vanity, praise and self-delusion, but it also shakes us up in unexpected (and non-ferrous) moments of truth.

It is impossible to see without feeling sympathy for Joe Gillis. He dies in the swimming pool before he can tell his story, and isn’t even an opportunist enough to feel sorry for the woman who will ultimately put him there. It is impossible to consider Norma Desmond’s fate. Years of solitude, year of living in memories, the noisy slave (Elich von Stroheim) of an ex-husband-turned-doctor (Elich von Stroheim), and to find dating only through the proxy of her pet monkey is to find a companion without her presence. Despite the fact that everything else we see in the film ocks it, it’s even impossible to not believe in the idealism of the naive “good girl” Betty (Nancy Olson).

Wilder and Brackett may have been well known for their cynicism, but their joint film work never failed to touch you with their deep sense of humanity. And those moments occur not by chance, but by careful craftsmanship. “Sunset Boulevard” is a film full of iconic quotes. They hit us with recognition of our own pretenses, our own delusional moments of self-importance, and ego embraced surrounding candid self-awareness. They all stab us with wisdom that we cannot ignore, but they also offer nudges towards our own red. Perhaps the most pointed in the climactic observations Joe spoke about in Norma’s rapid appeal to inferior sanity.

It’s in a way a “Sunset Boulevard” paper, and in a way it’s a hard candy truthfulness that the film builds with easily traceable deliberations from the moment of fate that its anti-hero transforms into the driveway of that rotten mansion on the streets that bear the name of its serious metaholic title. It reaches Norma as a lifeline, not as a face slap, but in reality it is aimed at the audience. It may be too late to save any of these two destiny characters, but Wilder and Brackett clearly intended it as a message that it’s not too late We.

Similarly, we don’t even see hints of strange identity depicted on the screen, but the overtones and undercurrents of strangeness are highly recognized – and it’s hard to be certain that by chance they are there, as they were in 1950 as well, for strange viewers. Neither Wilder nor Brackett identified themselves as queer themselves, but they were veteran workers in the Hollywood industry and were well aware that there was a “secret world” behind the scenes that the censors of the time would not portray them directly. But realizing that their film’s strong message is equally relevant to the queer community, they would have known that they could reach them anyway. So, when Joe Gillis watches the harsh nocturnal funeral for the aforementioned monkey through the window, he speaks out his opinion that “it was all very strange.”

Of course, for many strange audiences, understanding “why” is about understanding that they are not really necessary. It is a very enjoyable film, with an evil violation attitude about social norms and structure, and the reverse gender dynamics between its two “romantic” leads will be lost to anyone who may feel vaguely threatened by such a thing. Personality – Film director Cecil B. DeMille and legendary gossip columnist Hedda Hopper appear as himself as Norma’s “bridge circles” as some silent stars (including Buster Keaton, Anna Q. Nilsson and HB Warner).

But ultimately, most importantly, it is a film with universal appeal – despite its aging style and technology contribution, it is a timeless story and remains intact 75 years later, a testament to the universal power of films that speaks to us no matter the time.