Spotlight | Billy Wilder

I would like to introduce you to one of my Top 5 directors, Mr Billy Wilder.

As opposed to directors such as Orson Welles and Hitchcock who liked to bring attention to creative camera angles and editing, Wilder favoured emphasis on a sharp script and biting dialogue. He never wanted to bring attention to the actual filmmaking process, rather he wanted the audience to lose themselves in the story and characters. This no doubt stemmed from his origins in his native Germany as a screenwriter and he enjoyed a long collaboration with equally sharp-witted writer, I. A. L. Diamond.

It is his ability to “tell a good story” which is why I love him as a director. I’ve always been a firm believer in the theory that it is impossible to make a great film from a bad script (hence my hatred of anything remotely Michael Bay-like), and Billy Wilder felt the same.

Although probably best known for this:

Some Like It Hot (1959)

He is one of my best-loved directors for this:

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

And possibly my alltime favourite…

The Apartment (1960)

A few quotes burned in my brain:

“That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise” The Apartment

Joe Gillis: You're Norma Desmond. You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big.
Norma Desmond: I *am* big. It's the *pictures* that got small.

Sunset Boulevard

“Real diamonds! They must be worth their weight in gold!” Some Like It Hot

“When you're in love with a married man, you shouldn't wear mascara” The Apartment

“Story of my life. I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.” Some Like It Hot

“There's nothing tragic about being fifty. Not unless you're trying to be twenty-five.” Sunset Boulevard

“It’s not how long it takes, it’s who’s taking you” Some Like It Hot

“I'd like to spell it out for you...only I can't spell” The Apartment

“Mr De Mille, I’m ready for my close-up” Sunset Boulevard

“Nobody’s perfect!” Some Like It Hot

Do yourself a favour and rent one of the above films this weekend. You’ll have a couple of hours of wonderful.

Turn on those City Lights

If he had been alive yesterday, Charlie Chaplin would have turned 122 years old.

I usually hate these pointless headlines, invented by the media for no reason other than to fill in a blank on their schedule. However, this is actually quite telling. 122 years is a long time in the entertainment world. When you think that the medium of cinema is only just over 100 years old itself, anything older seems archaic. Even in his forties, Chaplin was considered a bit of a luddite for his insistence on keeping his films silent whilst the rest of Hollywood embraced sound. He resisted for as long as he could, and in so doing, marked himself as a member of the old guard even at a relatively young age.


I fell in love with Chaplin as a child. I was the kid who spent most hot summer days inside, curtains drawn, watching back to back screenings of The Tramp and his flower girl. Like all great friendships, a relationship with Chaplin is one that evolves over the years. The adventures of "The Little Tramp" were some of my favourites from the tender age of 5 or 6. I adored the slapstick comedy, the scenes of drunk characters bumping into lamp-posts or escaping baton-wielding policemen. Show me a child who doesn't find the eating machine scene from Modern Times hilarious and I will declare them certifiably insane.

As I left childhood behind, it was the scenes of love and loss that struck a chord. I couldn't watch the final scene of City Lights without reaching for the Kleenex. There is no sound apart from the swell of sweeping strings; their mouths move, but no words come out. Instead, the emotion comes from the expression of their faces, their eyes, the way they move their hands. There is no script to prop the actors up.


Now when I watch his films, I still love the slapstick and humour, the pathos and heartbreak, but I see something fresh and new. For those who think that silent films are irrelevant and from the dinosaur-age of moviemaking, watch the factory scenes from Modern Times and think again. Chaplin's tramp stands at a production line, working so fast that he doesn't even have time to scratch his nose. If he takes a moment to swat a fly, he has lost the rhythm of his work and must work even harder to make up for lost time. Chaplin seems to be suggesting that in the world of 1936, the pace of technology is moving so fast that we can only ever play catch-up. Now, 75 years later, how many of us struggle to keep up with the constant updates to our iPads, computers and mobile phones? How many times do we take a mini break from Twitter or Facebook, only to then feel like we have a deluge of information to catch up on when we return? Like that production line, it is hard to take a break without feeling like you're falling behind. Chaplin - irrelevant? If anything, as its title suggests, Modern Times is a film for our age too.

Spotlight | Edith Head ~ Designer Extraordinaire

It is impossible to write a blog about vintage film without spending at least one post discussing the merits of Edith Head. Even before the lead actress appears on screen, I can tell I'm in for a couple of hours of sartorial sweetness when I see "Costumes by Edith Head" appear on the opening credits.



She holds the record for being the woman with the most Oscar nominations in history ~ a staggering 35 nominations with 8 wins. Even if you've never heard of her name, you have no doubt seen and recognise several of her creations worn by Audrey Hepburn, Bette Davis and Grace Kelly to name but a few. Studios were keen for their films not to fall out of favour with passing trends, and Edith Head assisted by designing iconic costumes that were classic and timeless. Many modern brides owe their dress designs to this talented lady.

(above left ~ talking to Hitch / above right ~ with Audrey)

I also love her trademark black fringe/chignon and dark glasses, which she had from the 1930s until the end of her life. Like her creations, it made her timeless and almost ageless. I like my designers looking chic ~ if they're expected to make others look good, they should be stylish themselves.

A snippet of her back catalogue:

All About Eve (1951)
A Place in the Sun (1952)
Roman Holiday (1954)
Sabrina (1955)
To Catch a Thief (1956)
Funny Face (1958)


For the best example of her amazing creations, set aside three hours to watch The Ten Commandments. Technicolor knew how to make colours sing, and there are few sights more glorious than that of Anne Baxter in shades of emerald, ruby red and sapphire.



For further inspiration, you might want to buy this book. Or perhaps you want to treat me instead?