1. Sunset Blvd.
When washed-up writer Joe Gillis (William Holden) accidentally stumbles across a decaying mansion off Sunset Boulevard, fate throws him into the path of forgotten silent-era queen Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). As soon as Norma hears his line of work, she insists he writes her screenplay idea - one that will mark her return to the screen - and, she insists, her adoring fans. Sniffing out a swift buck and pinning her for a loon, Joe soon moves in and it doesn't take long for him to assume the role of gigalo. Matters get complicated when Joe meets Betty, a staff writer for one of the big studios in Hollywood - enraging Norma's jealousy. Max - Norma's trusty servant and personal driver - turns out to be her former screen director and later, her husband. He's still very much in love with her, but assumes a role of servitude so as to preserve her sense of self-importance. These days, we'd say Norma was suffering from a form of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. The Greeks tell us that Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection; what this film does so deftly is to show the terrible cost of self-love. A Narcissist is beguiled by an impression of self, not of the actual person; it's an idealised, fantasy version. Real life seldom matches up and when conflict arises, matters begin to fall apart. There's a point in the movie where Norma gets Max to drive her to the studio, so she can meet with her old pal Cecile B. DeMille (played by himself). He's humouring Norma, just like everyone old enough to remember her, but she's deluded into thinking she's still the hot ticket. The film ends in tragedy, but by the time Norma Desmond makes her famous descent of the stairs ('All right, Mr. DeMille - I'm ready for my close-up!'), we understand the delusion that's driven her to murder.
Sunset Blvd. captures the pernicious nature of film and success. It also demonstrates the dangers of self-delusion and seclusion - don't we all feel a bit sorry for Norma? It's Swanson's towering performance that puts
Sunset Blvd. at the top of my list, forever encapsulating cinema's ability to dissect the most horrible people.