You were called the French James Dean and the male Brigitte Bardot, and in intensity and range, you were both, while at the same time, you remained your own person, doing an upright job covering several genres, but excelling most in high adventure and lone-wolf, gumshoe noir.
For the record, I actually discovered you in the Poe anthology, Spirits of the Dead, in Louis Malle's "William Wilson" segment, opposite Bardot. From there, I recognized you in other fine productions, which only ensured my lifelong admiration.
As such, I took pleasure in Purple Noon, The Red Circle, Red Sun, Farewell Friend, Texas Across the River, Notre Histoire, Scorpio, The Leopard, Three Murderesses, The Black Tulip, Lost Command, Christine (1958), Indian Summer (1972), Send a Woman When the Devil Fails, Be Beautiful But Shut Up, A Cop, For a Cop's Hide, There Was Once a Cop, Cop's Honor, The Swimming Pool, Actors, Le Choc, Le Toubib, Le Passage, Le Gang, La Retour Casanova, Carum Shots, Dancing Machine, Mr. Klein, Madly, Day and Night, Three Men to Kill, One Hundred and One Nights, Is Paris Burning?, The Concord ... Airport '79, The Yellow Rolls Royce, Have I the Right To Kill?, Girl on a Motorcycle, Dirty Money, Joy House, Boomerang (1976), The Eclipse, The Last Adventure, Someone is Bleeding, Famous Love Affairs, Love at Sea, Swann of Love, The Gipsy, Creezy, The Professor, The Hurried Man, Half a Chance, Shock Treatment (1973), Women are Weak, Easy, Down There!, Way of Youth, The Fighter, Any Number Can Win, Asterix at the Olympic Games, Armeguedon, The Burned Barns, Teheran 43, Big Guns, The Assassination of Trotsky, Boralino and Co., Jeff, The Teddy Bear, The Sicilian Clan, Rocco and His Brothers, and the hearty list goes on.
Jeane-Pierre Melville's Le Samourai was a big one for you, though, maybe your defining role. Known in some circles as The Godson (to imply a link to Coppola's The Godfather), Le Samourai is the epitome of brooding, European cool. As Jef Costello, you merge with your audience (and vice versa), establishing a poignant persona that's impossible to shake.
In addition to Le Samourai, you hold the lead in Duccio Tessari's Zorro, where you give my favorite portrayal of the crusader, in what is my favorite adaptation of Johnston McCulley's iconic fable. Your nimble balance of Don Diego de la Vega and the masked avenger is amazing to watch (coming from opposite ends of the spectrum, but all with seamless flair), and to see you champion the oppressed to Oliver Onions' terrific, theme song is nothing short of divine. (For those who've not caught the uncut edition of this splendid movie, it's available for viewing on Amazon. I can't praise it enough.)
You brought me a lot of joy, Monsieur Delon, a lot of joyous escapism, and I know that I'm not alone in that sentiment. For as long as fans embrace the upper echelon of cinema, you will sit among its royalty: an actor, an artist ... a luminary of imperishable clout.
No comments:
Post a Comment