Sunset Boulevard: a new avenue for a familiar genreSay no to plagiarism. Get a Custom Essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”?Get the original essay In Billy Wilder's 1950 classic, Sunset Boulevard, an unwitting male protagonist, played by William Holden, falls under the influence of (and is ultimately murdered by) a dangerous and scheming former actress played by the great Gloria Swanson. While this may sound like the setup for a fairly run-of-the-mill film noir, a series of profound tweaks to the genre's well-worn conventions not only save the film from mediocrity, but elevate it to the ranks of the most popular films. enduring and famous cinema classics. Director/writer Billy Wilder, along with fellow screenwriters Charles Brackett and DM Marshman Jr. add a bold meta element to the film by pointing a critical eye at a layer of American society that is unusual for film noir to focus on. examine: the film industry. And with intelligent casting and a protagonist who defies genre stereotypes, they mount a powerful indictment of Hollywood's shaky and ruthlessly superficial foundations. The main goal of film noir has always been to shine a light on the dark crevices of urban life in order to expose a certain form of moral corruption. Sunset Boulevard is no exception to this rule, but while noir typically turns to black markets, police forces, gambling rings, or organized crime rings to expose such corruption, Wilder has instead chosen to interested in corruption in his own backyard: the film industry. . Gloria Swanson plays an exiled actress named Norma Desmond. Norma has fallen into obscurity in part because of the paradigm shift from silent to talkies, but she is just as much a victim of Hollywood's constant need for fresh young starlets to fill the screen. She manages her exile by clinging to the lavish lifestyle built on her dormant career and socializing only with those willing to maintain the illusion of her continued high status. Norma claims to be preparing “a return to the millions of people who have never forgiven her for having deserted the screen”. Such claims are never countered by the enablers she surrounds herself with, and the dilapidated mansion she lives in is at odds with the idea that her vacation from the spotlight is only temporary. Directors whose job it is to suspend disbelief and inflate the truth are partly to blame, but they are only servants of the movie studios, themselves serving the public's need for escape. This web of deception has a complexity that is an essential element of the noir genre, but the fibers with which it is woven are fresh, unusual, and more relevant than ever today, as audiences eagerly devour culture news celebrities. Hollywood studios and mansions may be far from the dark, seedy alleys that noir fans are accustomed to exploring, but they are no less populated by unscrupulous and deceptive characters. Just as Dashiell Hammett's detective novels were legitimized by the fact that he worked for a time as a detective himself, Sunset Boulevard is therefore legitimized for being a product of the industry he critiques. In genre films, casting conventions typically require the use of actors who are familiar as staples of the genre and whose names alone carry a pre-established meaning, thereby helping the audience enter the narrative world. Wilder and Brackett chose tochoosing faces that were indeed familiar and meaningful to the audience, but for different reasons: the directors played the directors and the actors played the actors, both adding an interesting meta element and reflecting reality in an atypical way not only noir, but all genre films. When Max, Norma Desmond's servile butler, turns out to be her ex-husband and the director of the silent films that made her famous, the casting decision takes on a profound new meaning. Max, after all, is played by legendary silent film director and screenwriter Erich von Stroheim. For the public, especially those of the time who were likely familiar with Stroheim's work, this revelation was doubly significant. They knew that he, like his character, had directed Gloria Swanson in her early silent films, so this revelation of his character's past as well as his involvement in the film in general had added weight, as if he, as an artist , had signed the scathing reviews of the film. Equally significant was the casting choice of legendary director Cecil B. DeMille for himself. DeMille had also directed Gloria Swanson in the real world and, in the film, demonstrates genuine sympathy for Norma Desmond's plight, showing her respect and affection, even inviting her to sit in the director's chair when she visits her set. When DeMille notices that a crowd of people have gathered around her, he sees the situation for what it is: nostalgic fans admiring what they consider to be a Hollywood relic. Knowing that attention is the last thing Norma needs and perhaps feeling guilty for helping to build her fame, he disperses the gathered crowd. DeMille, as director, makes his living creating the illusions that have been so damaging to Mrs. Desmond and therefore feels protective of her, but is powerless when it comes to lifting the heavy veil of illusion. In addition to the involvement of Stroheim and DeMille, many small roles were taken on by former silent film actors such as Buster Keaton and HB Warner playing themselves. These bold and progressive casting choices validated the film's message and highlighted the versatility of the noir genre as a mirror of corruption. The main character of Sunset Boulevard, Joe Gillis, played by William Holden, appears at the beginning of the film as a classic noir protagonist. ; he is jaded, witty, unlucky, and pursued by rogue debtors. However, as the film progresses, we realize that the similarities end there. Film noir almost invariably uses protagonists – usually private detectives – with unshakable moral codes who narrowly escape the consummation of the seedy world they investigate. Joe Gillis, however, is not a detective but a screenwriter who becomes so complicit in Norma Desmond's delusions that his own morality, as well as his life, is lost at the end of the film. Shortly after meeting Nora, Joe begins accepting her money in exchange for her companionship and help in putting together his hopelessly crummy screenplay. Realizing that she might be the way out of his financial mess, he stays with her, stoking the fires of his illusory status even long after his debts have been paid. In his voiceover narration, Joe rationalizes his empowerment by saying "You don't yell at a sleepwalker - he might fall and break his neck." He has become accustomed to the good life and Nora's delusions keep him comfortable, so much so that his devotion to her begins to resemble that shown by Max. In the final act of the film, Joe's behavior resembles that of a femme fatale rather than that of.