Sweet Smell of Success

This is an ugly movie. It's shot beautifully, black-and-white, lovely use of shadows and ambient light from cars and flashing advertisements, but the story is not a kind one. Tony Curtis plays Sidney Falco, a press agent with big dreams, who runs around doing dirty work for one J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) in the hopes it'll pay off for him. At the moment in time when the film takes place, Curtis is busy trying to break up Hunsecker's younger sister Susan and a guitarist named Steve Dallas. Because until he does, Hunsecker won't mention one of Curtis' clients in his column, which means no press for that guy, which means Curtis isn't doing his job.

Curtis plays Falco as this conniving little shit. Always scheming, always making a smart remark, but only once he's out of arm's reach. He tries blackmail, and when that fails and he gets verbally dressed down by his potential victim, turns to another person with the same information and uses the exact insults the other guy used on him to describe Hunsecker. He's always walking a step behind Hunsecker when they're together, either waiting patiently for permission to do something (like sit down, or speak), or else he's leaning forward eagerly. The little dog that can hardly wait to do his master's bidding so he gets a treat.

There is one moment where Curtis almost displays integrity, where he draws a line as Hunsecker reveals he has more than a little demagogue in him (and they use that lighting technique where Hunsecker's eyes are framed in a band of light, while the rest of his face is in shadow). But it passes, because Hunsecker does know him, just like he says he does. Knows exactly what to dangle.

Lancaster plays Hunsecker as this controlled presence, staring steadily at people through these glasses. He knows how much power he has, and you can see it in how he talks to them, how they sit patiently waiting for his questions, and how bored he seems by it all. They need him, not the other way around. He never has to raise his voice with his sister, just brings her to heel with simple, calm statements. Hunsecker would definitely be one of those guys on the Internet who would insist he's won the argument if you got angry at any point during it.

It does end better than most noir do, as at least one person gets their comeuppance, and one of the few decent main characters gets free. But watching Falco debase himself for 90+ minutes, constantly sinking lower, and doing so almost gleefully, can be rough.