This restored version of Billy Wilder's scathing attack on the Hollywood industry by way of the transient nature of celebrity still makes for marvellous entertainment, almost 53 years after its original theatrical run. William Holden plays Joe Gillis, a down on his luck screenwriter, desperate to secure a job or lose his car. In another attempt to evade heavies that his moneylenders have employed, Gillis ends up hiding out in an apparently derelict house on Sunset Boulevard.
Despite its dilapidated appearance, the house belongs to a star of the silent age of cinema, Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). With an ego the size of a small European country (ratio1:1), this faded, delusional beauty is desperate to make a comeback and employs Gillis to edit her pompous screenplay, which she believes will restore her to former glories. Grudgingly, Gillis accepts the job, but soon finds himself a prisoner in Desmond's home and to her insecurities.
A deeply intelligent, insightful look at the nature of fame and the callous double standards of Hollywood (which haven't exactly changed), Sunset Boulevard is one of the finest motion pictures of its era. From the epochal opening shot and the narrative ingenuity employed, there's barely a bum note here as the director manages to marry satire with a defining sense of style, while eliciting marvellous performances from his cast (Swanson is utterly devastating). I could go on, but you should really do yourself a favour and see this marvellous film on the big screen.