Directed by: Alexander Mackendrick

Released: July 1957

Cast: Tony Curtis, Burt Lancaster, Susan Harrison, Martin Milner, Sam Levene, Lawrence Dobkin, Barbara Nichols, Joe Frisco, Emile Meyer, Edith Atwater, Jeff Donnell, the Chico Hamilton Quintet, and Jay Adler as Manny Davis.

Spoilers? Yup.

If there is a better movie than Sweet Smell of Success, you’ll have to forgive me for not catching its name. I was too busy cheering.

In the early 80s I watched a few essential films for the first time. The ones that caught me the most were the films with scenes that just blended into one another, each scene as good as the last. Carrying you off into the plot and the world of the film, where time stands still. Films like Casablanca, Double Indemnity, The Roaring Twenties, Notorious. But, for me there was one that stood a little bit higher than the others. And still does. Sweet Smell of Success is that film where each scene is a gift, one right after the other.

In 1984, CITY-TV in Toronto aired Sweet Smell of Success on their 8:00pm Great Movies. I’d never heard of it, but it starred Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, it’s in black and white. Let’s go. The movie had me right from the opening credits.

After the credits there is hardly a line of dialogue. Rush hour, New York City, 1957. A newspaper guy makes a crack to Press Agent Sydney Falco (Tony Curtis), who grabs the early edition of the Globe, ignoring the newspaper guy. Sydney enters a hot dog stand, and we’re in there with him. Crowded, trying to read the paper, lit by the florescent lighting. That was it. The scene in that hot dog stand, with the natural looking lighting, was the most beautiful black and white image I had ever seen.

If you’re funny James, I’m a pretzel! Drop Dead!

Act One we follow Sydney, metaphorically under the watchful, intimidating eye of J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), to whom we have yet to be formally introduced. But J.J.’s presence is felt, as an ominous figure, to be both respected and feared. Mostly feared, and it makes Sydney confidently ‘run a 50-yard dash with his legs cut off’. We’ve spent all our time with Sydney, but this is clearly J.J.’s world.

It’s a brilliant first act building anticipation of who is this J.J Hunsecker that has everyone so impressed and rattled. When we finally meet J.J., he does not disappoint. The relationship between J.J. and Sydney begins to fall into place.

At the 21 Club, J.J. is surrounded by ‘a senator, an agent, and a thing with blond wavy hair’. The objectification is horrifying. But it’s the 50s, New York City, where every Broadway, Madison Ave. type is a foul minded, creep in a nice suit. The scene is perfect for Sydney, and a great way to find out what a press agent actually does.

Match me, Sydney.

J.J. is a superior being who can flick you away like an annoying bug. ‘Oh, J.J.-?’ ‘Say god-bye Lester.’ Lester sheepishly walks away. But J.J. can’t be so dismissive of Sydney. J.J., the powerful New York columnist has been using Sydney to break up a relationship between J.J.’s sister, Susie (Linda Harrison) and jazz musician Steve Dallas (Martin Milner). Sydney hasn’t been successful, so J.J. has shut Sydney out of his column. However, Sydney has learned of a new development. Steve has proposed to Susie, and Sydney has a plan.

Sydney and J.J.’s scheming to destroy Susie and Steve’s relationship is the core of Sweet Smell of Success. The environment is a bonus, and captured so well that you feel like you are there. Helped immeasurably by a myriad of supporting characters with their own individual personalities.

The agent with the senator, and the blonde starlet is Manny Davis (Jay Adler), and Manny has one and a half lines of dialogue, yet with one line from J.J. we learn exactly who Manny is, ‘Everybody knows Manny Davis. Accept Mrs. Manny Davis.’ It’s a small, but brilliant moment that illustrates how much this movie cares about portraying this now lost to the age’s world. Coupled with the music supplied by Elmer Bernstein, and the Chico Hamilton Quintet, the smoke-filled night clubs, The Elysian, Toots Shor’s, 21, Robard’s Jazz Club come alive.

I’d hate to take a bite out of you. You’re a cookie full of arsenic.

Some scenes are an evolution of mood. While preparing for a broadcast of J.J.’s TV show, J.J. and Steve meet for the first time. Steve is here at J.J.’s request, to get his approval before Steve and Susie can get married. It’s all part of Sydney’s plan, where everything starts cordial and friendly. However, things gradually begin to turn until it becomes downright nasty. This gradual disintegration is courtesy of a careful portrayal of a clash of personalities. Brilliantly written and performed. J.J. powered by control and hate, crushing Steve’s integrity, and his love for Susie.

There is a lot of deviousness going on in Sweet Smell of Success, and fortunately these deeds do not go unpunished, with ultimately Sydney and J.J. paying the highest price. That’s the way it must be, there is no point otherwise. There is a winner, but there’s no last laugh.

You’re dead son. Go get yourself buried.

Sweet Smell of Success is a movie I vividly remember watching for the first time. Reveling in James Wong Howe’s cinematography. The sharp, cynical dialogue. The kind which I had never heard before, thanks to Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman. Anticipating each new scene, not knowing what’s coming next. I can still watch it today with the same excitement.

So, why don’t you go make yourself a holiday, and if you haven’ t seen Sweet Smell of Success, it’s only just great. Like a pocket full of firecrackers. Waiting for a match.

Sweet Smell of Success is available on DVD and Blu Ray from the Criterion Collection. And streaming on Tubi.