"I'd hate to take a bite out of you. You're a cookie full of arsenic!"
There's no shortage of movies depicting the press as irresponsible and sensationalist, but Alexander Mackendrick's Sweet Smell of Success (1957) tops them all. The movie failed to find an audience in the '50s, but its unremitting cynicism remains strikingly resonant.Press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) courts bigshot columnist J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), running seedy errands in exchange for Hunsecker promoting his clients. But Falco fails to bring Hunsecker's sister Susan (Susan Harrison) away from jazz musician Steve Dallas (Martin Milner), whom Hunsecker detests. Unwilling to trust Falco, Hunsecker decides to smear Dallas as a Communist and a criminal, but finds himself unable to overcome Susan's affections.
Based on Ernest Lehman's autobiographical novella, Sweet Smell of Success surely ranks among Classic Hollywood's most darkly cynical works. Hunsecker, a stand-in for Walter Winchell, virtually rules New York, able to make or break artists, politicians and friends with a single column or scathing glance. Falco debases himself to retain his favor, enduring insults and jettisoning dignity for the appearance of success. Despite it all, neither J.J. nor Falco can control Susan, who's unwillingness to sacrifice love to her brother's ambition.
Best-known for his comedies, Alexander Mackendrick casts New York as a bustling, crowded den of inequity, criminals, crooked cops and good time girls mixing with aspiring artists and high-class Senators. Besides James Wong Howe's noir-standard shots of seedy bars and smoky corridors, the film's most iconic shot has Hunsecker looming over Times Square at night, smoking a cigarette, utterly comfortable in his power. Lehman's cutting, quotable script (co-written with Clifford Odetts) and Elmer Bernstein's pounding, insistent jazz score heighten the urban seediness.
Burt Lancaster plays Hunsecker as a coldly arrogant egotist, distant and dismissive behind browline glasses and impeccable suits. There's little to redeem J.J.'s lordly nastiness, with Lancaster showing vulnerability only when he threatens to lose control. Tony Curtis, usually a lighthearted matinee idol, gives an intense, desperate performance as a man fearing failure more than anything. Susan Harrison's sweetly vulnerable, with Emile Meyer stealing scenes as a charmingly crooked detective.
If anything, our era of fake news has made Sweet Smell of Success more timely than ever. J.J. Hunsecker isn't the last columnist who abandons reporting for gossip and trust for power, and certainly Sidney Falco's groveling eagerness for approval strikes a chord. Amidst such a wallow of deceit and power hunger, integrity never had a chance.
