THE APARTMENT

A great number of Wilders’ films revel in the dichotomy between those who are capable of manipulating the system and those who the system manipulates. As Shirley MacClaine notes in her heartbreaking role as Fran Kubilek, “Some people take, some people get took. And they know they're getting took and there's nothing they can do about it”. The Apartment is perhaps the first time Wilder gives us a protagonist who belongs in this second group. C. C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) is a man whose will to succeed in the workplace casts a dark shadow upon his private life. But rather than manipulate the system in order to meet his own ends in the manner of the central figures from Wilder’s Stalag 17, Double Indemnity and Ace in the Hole, Baxter allows himself to be manipulated in the hope that it will eventually lead to happiness. However, given the vein of cynicism which runs through even Wilder’s most optimistic films it is clear from the offset that such a way of living will not end well.

Desperate to ‘get ahead’ in the New York office in which he works, Baxter grants the use of his apartment for extra-marital trysts to his superiors. In doing so he gives up any chance of a happy private life. Baxter’s loneliness pervades through every frame of this film. We see him alone in the cold outside his apartment waiting for its occupants to vacate. We see how he spends the majority of his evenings – working late or companionless in front of the television. This empty private life leads him to focus on his work, where he is just another office drone lost in a sea of desks. Work does afford Baxter some degree of happiness; it is his opportunity to flirt with the pretty elevator operator Miss Kubilek, with whom he is madly in love. This happiness is short-lived as he soon discovers that his boss Mr Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) has reignited an old love affair with Miss Kubilek -- that he himself has sanctioned by allowing them to use his apartment.

This film has many great scenes and moments, but one which stands out is the well crafted way that Baxter makes this discovery. Its genius lies in the organic way in which the audience is kept one step ahead of Baxter – we know that the pocket mirror Baxter finds in his apartment and returns to Mr Sheldrake belongs to Miss Kubilek. Furthermore, we know that in a later scene when Miss Kubilek loans the mirror to Baxter he will put two and two together. This clever piece of scripting is well matched by Lemmon who is reduced from clowning about in his new hat, to subtle sense of disappointment.

There’s no doubt that Lemmon brings it in every scene. Yes, his comedic timing is perfect - but it is his canny ability to communicate Baxter’s isolation and loneliness that gives the film its heart. In many ways Baxter is an unlikeable character. He values his job over everything else, he gives his consent to many acts of infidelity (despite never having the opportunity for infidelity himself) and as shown by his desire for an office and his new hat, he is clearly a materialist; but Lemmon’s performance kept me routing for Baxter. His joy at having Miss Kubilek to stay later in the film (even under such drab circumstances) is a glimpse at the kind of man he could be if only he could get his priorities in order. Perhaps the reason this film is such an enduring classic is that Wilder seems more concerned not with the central romance of the story, but of Baxter’s journey from a contemptible careerist to a ‘mensch’ – a good humanbeing. Lemmon’s performance is a wonderful document of this process. Only in his late career role as Shelley Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross does Lemmon come close to transferring such pathos onto the screen.

This is to say nothing of Shirley MacClaine, who offers a complex multi-layered performance moving from quick witted and amiable to naive and emotionally and psychologically distraught. She is aided by Wilder’s typically brilliant dialogue (in a script co-written by I. A. L. Diamond) which keeps the audience guessing what her feelings towards Baxter really are. There is no doubt she is carelessly and hopelessly in love with the loathsome Mr Sheldrake, but the audience is left guessing what her feelings towards Baxter really are. This ambiguity is held right until the fantastic final line of dialogue in the film. Ultimately, one is left with a somewhat bittersweet taste in one’s mouth, which perhaps contributes to the fact that this is not a popular Christmas film – that and all the infidelity on the screen; but there’s no doubt it should be. This charming, smart film is Wilder’s best and there can scarcely be a better recommendation than that.