Alain Delon (born November 8th, 1935) is famous in French cinema for his brilliant acting and exquisite appearance. Every now and then, I type the name “Alain Delon” into Google images and sit back in awe. I click through pictures and I stare. I stare at the unbelievable amount of beauty before me. And that beauty is only increased when you watch Alain Delon move and speak in one of his films. The combination of talent and physical beauty is mighty powerful; and girls like me, who have an unhealthy obsession with handsome European men, don’t stand a chance against Delon. But are we who find Alain dangerously attractive the only ones susceptible to his charms? Not so. I propose that men like Alain Delon, rather than being mere eye candy, are actually the driving force behind the captivation of entire audiences.
Some credit, of course, goes to the directors for encouraging actors like Alain, getting great shots with all-important focus on the eyes, the lips, et cetera. However, Alain is a man of many talents, one of those being the natural virility that emanates from him in every role.
Some credit, of course, goes to the directors for encouraging actors like Alain, getting great shots with all-important focus on the eyes, the lips, et cetera. However, Alain is a man of many talents, one of those being the natural virility that emanates from him in every role.
In Plein Soleil - or Purple Noon - (1960), Delon plays Tom, a young man who has travelled to Italy under mysterious circumstances. Tom has, supposedly, been sent to Rome to by a Mr. Greenleaf, in order to bring his son Philippe Greenleaf home to San Francisco. However, Tom’s true intentions are gradually revealed as he commits crime after clever crime, starting with murdering Philippe and stealing his identity. Being a passionate devotee to gorgeous young men, I find myself covering Tom’s crimes with my Alain-obsessed commentary…
“Damn, Alain looks good in that guy’s clothes.”
“Hurry, Alain, pretend he’s drunk instead of dead!”
“I know you’re lying to her, Alain, and that you’re a creepy murderer, but I want you and Marge together anyway.”
You readers who haven’t seen Plein Soleil are probably laughing at or frowning on my foolishness, but my desperation as a single young woman is not the only element at play here. Sometimes, while watching a movie, I will purposely sit back and pretend I’m someone else, - a retired old man, or a middle-aged policewoman, et cetera. And no matter who I am as I watch Plein Soleil, my desire as an audience member stays the same.
I want Alain to win.
What is it about Alain Delon’s depiction of Tom that makes me root for him? Is it his dialogue? Not likely. There isn’t very much significant dialogue in Plein Soleil, and I can’t understand the original French anyway. Cinematography? Music? Both were exceptional, but neither made a lasting impression.
It’s Alain. Alain and the pure magnetism of his acting. I cannot think of a single actor who could take on this role and achieve an identical audience response. Who but Alain, with his lean body and luscious hair, could sit down with the woman he plans to steal from his murder victim, share a conversation full of lies, then walk around Naples as if he were the dragging the city around by the tip of his finger? In this scene from Plein Soleil, the purposefulness of Alain’s every movement creates an impression of importance, so much so that it’s difficult to focus on any part of the setting around him. Alain Delon doesn’t just cooperate with a written scene, he commands his scenery.
We can all see that Alain Delon isn’t simply attractive, he’s compelling. He captures the eye with his presence, overpowering our senses with a captivation that’s almost primal. Is his inherent sensuality of movement the cause of this manly possession of pre-historic power? Or is there more to Alain Delon than the naughty look in those blue eyes?
We can all see that Alain Delon isn’t simply attractive, he’s compelling. He captures the eye with his presence, overpowering our senses with a captivation that’s almost primal. Is his inherent sensuality of movement the cause of this manly possession of pre-historic power? Or is there more to Alain Delon than the naughty look in those blue eyes?
To answer our question, let’s talk L’Eclisse (1962). I have to admit, my first viewing of this Michelangelo Antonioni film was not met with a standing ovation. I was tired and a little impatient with the artistic vision behind the film, driven mostly by extensive shots of buildings and trees, and those frustratingly satirical scenes where society forces people to converse in cryptic half-speak, if they ever speak at all. Not only that, but Alain Delon is absent from the first fifteen minutes of the film (which is far too long for me to wait to see him), and throughout the film Alain’s beautiful voice is dubbed by an Italian actor. Watching L’Eclisse, I was struggling to maintain my normal powers of resigned concentration, and, quite frankly, I just wanted to see Alain make out with someone. However, once I smothered the flames of my Alain Delon attraction and looked at his performance objectively, I was held by that same animalistic captivation, in spite of this character’s being so different from that of Plein Soleil.
While being slightly more romantic in overall intention than Plein Soleil, L’Eclisse is very intentionally subdued, so much so it’s almost dull. Alain’s character Piero is a stockbroker, who first appears on screen making phone calls and shouting to stockholders in a sea of insane modernist money bags. Even in this Bedlam of ambition, the collectively volatile behavior of the men and women is idle, meaningless, something for which we can credit Antonioni’s direction, as well as his calculating eye for truth. One can easily confuse Piero as a distraction from the tediousness, since he’s definitely easy on the eyes in his suit and tie. But, in spite of his beauty, Alain Delon doesn’t detract from the scene. In fact, he enhances it by being emotionally unavailable to Vittoria (played by Monica Vitti). Even in this monumental scene where, at last, there’s some great, great physical contact happening between Piero and Vittoria, the intention of the picture requires a frustrating amount of restraint. So, how is Alain still so captivating?
In spite of my initial distaste after finishing L’Eclisse, I found myself thinking about it for days. I sat at work reading internet critics' opinions on the film, remembering Alain Delon’s hand almost, but not quite, twining with Monica Vitti’s in an awkward, suspenseful dance. Everyone seems to agree on the message of L’Eclisse - namely, that intimacy with another human is difficult, perhaps impossible, in our modern world (a message with which I can completely relate). In reviewing sections of the film, this meaning came upon me very intensely, particularly in scenes like the one above; and, if I’m forced to picture those scenes with another actor, that message simply does not deliver. I don’t think any other man, in this deliberately bland part, could kiss an equally bland woman and convey that complex combination of passion and reticence. Alain Delon doesn’t just kiss a woman, as some actors (many of them American) tend to do. He consumes them, he is responsive to them, he's calculating, mindless, vulnerable, powerful, - all these things at once. And that is what carries the moral past the screen and into the psyche. He is the struggle of modern romance, the social confusion L’Eclisse seeks to discuss, personified. He makes the film what it, at its best, should be.
‘Wait, Ashley,” I hear some of you saying. ‘Are you saying movie wouldn’t be good without Alain Delon?”
Well… Yeah, I am saying that.
Alain Delon isn’t just a moving dummy you stand up in front of a cardboard backdrop, he’s a household name of French cinema. He’s so dynamic that he, not the scenery or the dialogue, creates the desired mood of the picture. Films like Plein Soleil and L’Eclisse, which are already fortunate enough to have been created by some highly intelligent people, is enhanced exponentially by Alain’s presence, causing the film to adjust in order to match his exuberance and natural talent. By being the man that he is, Alain Delon inspires a chameleon effect to take place on the screen, changing the emotional response of the picture in the same way a camouflaging animal changes colors. What might have been a straightforward crime film, or a bleak existential satire, becomes a jungle of human experience as bright and lively as Alain Delon’s eyes.
So, when you watch a film starring Alain Delon, don’t just swoon and choke on your hormones. Well, okay, you can still die a little inside. But get it all out of the way early:
His hair.
His eyes.
His style.
His abs.
His everything.
Still alive?… Okay. Now, - watch this man act.
Pick out a movie, sit back, and observe a master human being at work. Look inside yourself as you observe Monsieur Delon captaining ships of cinematic mastery, leading them into sparkling waters of audience enthrallment. Mark my words, you will never forget a journey led by Alain Delon. Not in a million years.
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