Sweet Smell of Success (1957)
Movie rating: 8/10
“Sleaze” is the first word that comes to mind when watching Sweet Smell of Success, but especially the machinations of New York press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis). Straining to gain publicity for his clients in the influential newspaper column of J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), Falco will resort to any means to advance his interests, from lies and smears to blackmail and bribery. When Falco gets involved in Hunsecker’s efforts to break up the relationship between his younger sister Susan (Susan Harrison) and jazz guitarist Steve Dallas (Martin Milner), he finds himself in over his head.
Directed by Alexander Mackendrick and written by Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman based on the latter’s 1950 novelette Tell Me About It Tomorrow!, originally published in Cosmopolitan magazine, Sweet Smell of Success shows how much power a nationally syndicated newspaper columnist wielded at this time. The media environment has changed drastically since then, but trading favourable coverage for access remains a mainstay of the bourgeois press. Meanwhile, sex scandals continue to be the favourite means for bringing down politicians and other public figures—a fact Hunsecker makes plain in his first scene, speaking to a U.S. senator:
J.J. Hunsecker: Look, Manny, you rode in here on the Senator's shirt tails, so shut your mouth!
Sen. Harvey Walker: Now, come, J.J., that's a little too harsh. Anyone seems fair game for you tonight.
J.J. Hunsecker: This man is not for you, Harvey, and you shouldn't be seen with him in public. Because that's another part of a press agent's life - he digs up scandal among prominent men and shovels it thin among columnists who give him space.
Sen. Harvey Walker: There is some allusion here that escapes me...
J.J. Hunsecker: We're friends, Harvey - we go as far back as when you were a fresh kid Congressman, don't we?
Sen. Harvey Walker: Why does everything you say sound like a threat?
J.J. Hunsecker: Maybe it's a mannerism - because I don't threaten friends, Harvey. But why furnish your enemies with ammunition? You're a family man. Someday, with God willing, you may wanna be President. Now here you are, Harvey, out in the open where any hep person knows that this one...
[points at Manny Davis]
J.J. Hunsecker: [points at Linda James] ... is toting THAT one...
J.J. Hunsecker: [points at Senator] around for you.
The dialogue in this dialogue-heavy movie crackles with wit. It’s not naturalistic, but more literary and stylized. A.O. Scott noted in a 2002 review for The New York Times that screenwriters Lehman and Odets provide for their characters “a high-toned street vernacular that no real New Yorker has ever spoken but that every real New Yorker wishes he could.” Like Marty, released a couple years before, Sweet Smell of Success leans heavily on its New York setting. But where Marty focused on an Italian-American butcher smitten by a high school science teacher, Mackendrick’s film looks to the elite world of members of Congress and national media celebrities Falco is desperately trying to break into.
Visually, the movie is full of beautiful cinematography that’s a great example of effectively using shadow in black and white films. The filmmakers make good use of Lancaster in particular, who despite being a newspaper columnist brings a strong physicality to the role. Wikipedia notes:
Mackendrick and composer Elmer Bernstein both found Lancaster intimidating, with Bernstein later recalling, "Burt was really scary. He was a dangerous guy. He had a short fuse".[17][18] Mackendrick decided to use Lancaster's volatility to work for the character of JJ, asking that Lancaster wear his own browline glasses, which Mackendrick felt gave him the presence of "a scholarly brute".[18] Mackendrick smeared a thin layer of vaseline on the lenses, preventing Lancaster from focusing his eyes and giving him a perpetually blank gaze. Assisted by cinematographer James Wong Howe, Mackendrick intentionally filmed scenes with JJ from a low angle using a wide-angle lens and with overhead lighting directly above Lancaster, so that the spectacle frames cast shadows on his face.[18]
The American Film Institute in 2003 named J.J. Hunsecker number 35 in its list of the top 50 movie villains of all time. Lancaster exerts a magnetic charisma onscreen, helped of course by his movie-star good looks. But even though the character shows up relatively late in the film, he steals every scene he’s in with an aura of quiet menace. While the supporting cast is strong—Harrison is particularly effective in the climax, and Milner holds his own in a confrontation we believe Hunsecker would brood on—Lancaster and Curtis dominate this movie. For Curtis, previously known for more lightweight pretty-boy roles, Sweet Smell of Success represented his chance to show he could really act, and he fought hard for the role. His Falco is despicable, yet always compelling.
One scene stands out: when Falco tricks cigarette girl Rita (Barbara Nichols) into providing sexual favours for one of Hunsecker’s rival columnists, who Falco hopes will run a very 1950s “smear” of Steve Dallas—that the guitarist smokes marijuana and is a card-carrying member of the Communist Party. He encourages Rita to drink until she loses her inhibitions enough to accept the columnist’s leering advances. It’s a pretty racy scene for a Hollywood movie of this era, and feels just as gross today. This is where the audience realizes how much of a slimeball Falco really is.
Finally, I have to highlight the film’s jazzy soundtrack. Elmer Bernstein offers a top-notch score and the scenes of Dallas’s jazz band playing in the club are great to watch. Jazz and the big city seem to go well together, but especially New York City. Good music is the icing on the cake that is a good movie and that’s very much the case here.