In Honor of Alain Delon: A Star So Handsome, He Was Obliged to Underplay His Looks

Reflecting upon Alain Delon‘s illustrious career spanning over six decades, I find myself captivated by his enigmatic charm and the indelible impact he left on cinema. As a cinephile who has spent countless hours immersed in the silver screen, I can confidently assert that there was no other actor quite like Delon. His unparalleled beauty, combined with an understated intensity, set him apart from his contemporaries and made him an icon of French cinema.

Movies aren’t about beauty pageants, yet if they were, Alain Delon undoubtedly would have been crowned as the most handsome actor of the 1960s.

It’s generally accepted that determining if Delon is the most handsome man is a matter of personal opinion. However, due to his charm and good looks, many people often use the term “arguably” when describing him, leaving the final decision up to others. There have been numerous arguments made in favor of Delon, with Anthony Lane’s analysis in The New Yorker being particularly compelling this year. Notably, Jane Fonda, who starred alongside Delon in “Joy House” in 1964, even went as far as calling him “the most beautiful human being.”

The renowned French actor, who passed away on Sunday, appeared in over a hundred films throughout a 50-year career, yet it was during a pivotal decade in cinematic history, starting with his role in the adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s “Purple Noon” (“Plein Soleil”) in 1960 and extending to his memorable portrayal in Jacques Deray’s “La Piscine,” that Alain Delon embodied an unreachable standard. His piercing blue eyes, reminiscent of a wolf, his striking Elvis Presley cheekbones, and his muscular, wrestling-ready physique all contributed to this image.

However, appearances were just one aspect. Being from a working-class background myself, I carried an innate street savvy since day one. Yet, in my initial roles like the title character in Luchino Visconti’s “Rocco and His Brothers” or the amorous stockbroker in Michelangelo Antonioni’s “L’eclisse,” I had a puppy-like quality that was evident to some.

It wasn’t long before he effortlessly adopted the cool, nonchalant demeanor that came to define Delon’s persona. From his minimalistic acting approach to his casual cigarette hold, the actor exuded an aura of indifference towards others’ opinions. There’s nothing more appealing than someone who doesn’t seek validation from others.

Delon didn’t seek a career in acting; instead, it was fate that led him there. As Brigitte Auber, a rising French actress at the time following the filming of “To Catch a Thief” with Alfred Hitchcock, recounted in a recent interview, she found him one night, stumbling drunk on a bridge in Paris. She took pity on him and brought him home. This was the start of many romantic encounters between Delon and several sought-after screen goddesses, including Brigitte Bardot, Romy Schneider, Ann-Margret, and Mireille Darc. In 1957, Auber introduced Delon to influential figures at the Cannes Film Festival, which marked his entry into the world of cinema.

The 21-year-old man had an attractively handsome appearance, and soon enough, he found himself working in the film industry. In just a year, he was starring alongside Schneider in “Christine” from 1968. Delon seemed like a real-life Disney prince with his high-collared Austrian military uniform, sharp features, and well-groomed hair. It’s not surprising that the secretive Italian director Luchino Visconti was captivated by him, casting Delon in both “Rocco and His Brothers” and “The Leopard.” He portrayed a generation that would eventually replace Burt Lancaster’s spectral Sicilian aristocrat in these films.

Delon initially exhibited an intense, volatile atmosphere during his early acting stints, radiating both danger and allure that he would eventually control. It’s unclear why Delon chose to tone down the electric screen presence in his subsequent roles, but it’s evident that the charisma he showcased in the 1964 film “The Black Tulip” (a loose adaptation of Dumas where he portrays the daring twins) is strikingly different from the more understated charm he demonstrated when playing Zorro a decade later.

One hypothesis: Every time Delon flashed a smile, he exposed a rugged collection of teeth – what appeared to be his sole flaw. In contrast to today’s standards where stars are predominantly chosen for their physical attractiveness, back in the ’60s, such features could work against one, and Delon endeavored to diminish his boyish charm.

During this period, Hollywood talent agent Henry Wilson, known for discovering Rock Hudson, Tab Hunter, and Guy Madison, presented an opportunity to Delon from American producer David O. Selznick. Interestingly, Delon was already involved in films outside of France at the time. This practice was quite prevalent back then as European directors often cast actors of various nationalities, later dubbing them when necessary, similar to how Visconti handled “The Leopard”.

Despite trying his hand in some English productions, Delon chose to thrive as a prominent figure in the more intimate European cinema scene, rather than getting swallowed up by the vastness of Hollywood. This decision proved wise, given Hollywood’s tendency to stereotype actors with foreign accents into a narrow spectrum of roles. For instance, Louis Jourdan, famously known as “the last French lover,” and Omar Sharif, who worked alongside Delon in 1964’s “Yellow Rolls-Royce,” both experienced this limitation in their careers.

Not long after, Delon encountered Jean-Pierre Melville, a filmmaker he regarded as his primary creative partner. Melville stood out in French cinema as an original thinker – a war hero who established his own production studio and found ways to work independently from the closed-off French film industry. Melville’s boldly independent productions preceded (and influenced) the French New Wave, and Delon was keen on collaborating with this director, who had a professional disagreement with his competitor, Jean-Pierre Belmondo.

I’ve extensively discussed the movie “Le Samouraï” (1967), a minimalist, talkative-light depiction that showcases a self-sacrificing criminal protagonist. This masterpiece by Melville is not only renowned for Delon’s most powerful performance, but it could very well be the epitome of coolness in cinema (I lay out my reasoning in this piece).

Delon portrays Jef Costello, a covert assassin dressed in a tailored trenchcoat and gray hat, who seamlessly navigates the bustling streets of Paris. We watch intently as he painstakingly creates an alibi, followed by the cold-blooded murder of a high-profile nightclub owner. However, his stealth is put to the test when a jazz musician spots him at the crime scene. It’s quite impressive how Delon manages to make such a charismatic actor appear inconspicuous. Remarkably, he toned down the charm he displayed in “Purple Noon” (an alluring precursor to “The Talented Mr. Ripley”), transforming into a blank slate upon which viewers can project motives and emotions.

“The movie is a gripping, suspenseful piece, yet it moves at a speed quite contrasting to the fast-paced action of modern Hollywood blockbusters such as “The Thomas Crown Affair,” “Point Blank,” or the stylish “Bonnie and Clyde.” Unlike Steve McQueen, Lee Marvin, and Warren Beatty who exuded charm in those films, Delon chose a different approach for “Le Samouraï” (and many subsequent roles), opting to eliminate that charismatic aspect.”

In that movie, Delon’s almost emotionless countenance resembled a mysterious Noh mask from Japan. For those who speak French, his monotone line delivery, rough and devoid of inflection, concealed his motives effectively, adding to the characters’ tough and menacing demeanor. This technique was also adopted by American stars like Clint Eastwood and Steve McQueen, who famously reduced dialogue in their scripts. However, neither of them had the chiseled good looks to compensate for this approach. Delon took the lesson from “Le Samouraï” to heart, particularly in his subsequent collaborations with Melville on “Le Cercle Rouge” and “Un Flic.” Interestingly, he considered Melville as a sort of spiritual mentor (which is ironic since “Le Samouraï” was titled “The Godson” in the U.S., hoping to cash in on the success of Francis Ford Coppola’s film).

To truly understand the distinctiveness of Delon’s acting style compared to other stars, consider contrasting his calm portrayal in the 1970 lighthearted gangster film “Borsalino” with that of his co-star Belmondo, a former boxer who appears ready for a brawl at every turn. By this time, Delon had already established himself as a major star, just like Belmondo, but their pairing was inevitable – even though their careers had a rocky path as Delon (who also produced the film) placed himself in the leading role.

Looking back, it’s clear that both actors chose to star in high-paying films, mostly action flicks that, with the passage of time, can feel a bit cringeworthy. However, “Red Sun” and “Scorpio” are exceptions worth revisiting. In those movies, you’ll find me shining brightly, much like when I arrived in style on set, stepping out of my personal helicopter – a luxury item that even graced the scenes of Agnès Varda’s “One Hundred and One Nights,” where I made a grand entrance aboard my private chopper.

Fame never flickered for Delon, who was beloved in France till the end. But looks don’t last forever. As Lane wrote in The New Yorker, “Alain Delon, in his prime, was the most beautiful man in the history of the movies.” I’d put the end of his prime — or the beginning of his decline — at 1969, when he made “La Piscine” with Schneider. It’s a hot, sticky erotic thriller set on the French Riviera, in which Delon’s character drowns a rival (Maurince Ronet, reunited from “Purple Noon”) after corrupting his daughter (Jane Birkin).

Over the years, I’ve frequently expressed that if I could magically become a character in any movie ever made, it would be in “La Piscine.” This atmospheric masterpiece excels more in creating an ambiance than in building suspense, portraying languid, idle afternoons spent by the pool. The palpable chemistry between Delon and Schneider sets the tension soaring. Although the plot becomes less gripping near its conclusion, dwelling excessively on the murder scene, Delon remains the focal point. With a sun-kissed glow and signs of aging evident (he portrays an unsuccessful writer whose best days are past, and the same can be felt for the actor), he shares the screen with two of European cinema’s most beautiful actresses, yet it is Delon who steals the show.

Reflecting on it more closely, perhaps cinema could be likened to a beauty pageant. One of its captivating aspects is the ability to preserve the most attractive individuals in a timeless state, allowing us to recall their prime visage long after they’re gone. For instance, even though Alain Delon has departed, through films like “Purple Noon,” “Le Samouraï” and “La Piscine,” he will continue to exude an alluring warmth in perpetuity.

2024-08-19 22:47

In Honor of Alain Delon: A Star So Handsome, He Was Obliged to Underplay His Looks

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