SUNSET BLVD: NOT HORROR

It's a debate that perplexes me. I balked at the notion decades ago when someone (albeit with decent intent) dared to compare Billy Wilder's 1950 hit, Sunset Boulevard, as being cut from the same dark cloth as Psycho and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? After many years of contemplation (hearing all the pros and cons), I'm even more adverse to the idea now. Shoot, I nearly came to blows with a know-it-all who tried to shove the idea down my throat at a New Year's party, but I settled instead on setting the record straight through a refined, verbal lashing. I'll now recount my pompous position for this post.  

Sunset Boulevard has been categorized as "hag horror," but it's not, let alone does it hold the consequential, warped-clan/incestuous seeds that inevitably seep from such, not by a long shot. It's more in tune with John Brahm/Charles Beaumont/Jerry Sohl's Twilight Zone episode, "Queen of the Nile," but "Queen" has a distinct, supernatural bent, whereas Wilder's movie (which he not only directed, but cowrote) has none. It's about an eccentric recluse who wishes to relive her days of glory. That's not horror. That's not out of the ordinary. If anything, it comes across as a later-day slice of costume drama, empowered by Wilder's excellent execution, Gloria Swanson's over-the-top performance as Norma Desmond and William Holden's charismatic inclusion as Joe Gillis, the eyes through which one experiences the tale. 

Sunset Boulevard isn't wrought with substantial, psychological warfare, either, in the way of Baby Jane, and it doesn't hit the shock value of Psycho or its sequels, let alone its deviations through the "reality-grounded" horrors of the Texas Chain Saw Massacre queue or the likes of Homicidal; Strait Jacket; Hush ... Hush, Sweet Charlotte; Willard; Dementia 13; Spider Baby; Three on a Meathook; Magic; Deranged; and well, the maniacal sub-genre goes on and on. 

Unfortunately, so does the irritating, nonsensical debate. Heck, Sunset Boulevard was even referenced as hag horror in a recent Scary Monsters, but dang it, folks, it's not horror! It's not even a general thriller, though it does hold a few edgy elements. It's no more than a quirky quasi-comedy with a surprise wraparound.  

You know, I'd sooner step forth and say, due to the production's flamboyant margins, it's something that the drag-queen crowd would appreciate, and that crowd doesn't liken its antics to horror, unless one considers Dr. Frank-N-Furter, and he's never been a genuine embodiment of horror, no matter who argues the point. (We all know that Rocky Horror is more of a "pride parade" disguised as a monster movie, and there ain't no shame in that.)

For the record, Sunset Boulevard was also the basis for an Andrew Lloyd Webber/Don Black musical, and all for good cause. Its content meshes with that frilly-dilly sort of thing, and don't be a wiseass and try to compare it to Webber/Charles Hart's Phantom of the Opera, let alone its underrated sequel. Those productions are impassioned animals all unto themselves, and indeed, horror-sprung, regardless of their pretty polish.  

Anyway, there you have my two cents worth on Sunset Boulevard. For me, I hope this puts an end to the banter, at least when it comes to my vexed presence, and opens the door for worthier quarrels, like "Is Robert Eggers' Nosferatu a true-blue, Christmas movie?" Now, that's something worth debating.