Stalag 17 (1953)

“I’ll find work for you, Bill.” This was director Billy Wilder’s promise to one of his favourite young stars and protégés, William Holden. Bill had proven himself more than the jaunty young WASP of his early years through his painfully alluring performance in Wilder’s classic Sunset Boulevard (1950), and when Wilder, eager for a hit, chose to make a screen version of the popular play Stalag 17, he chose Holden.

This was a controversial casting choice, as Holden was known for his singular good looks and boyish charm. The role Wilder proposed in Stalag was that of J.J. Sefton, a cantankerous, selfish, and possibly murderous POW who may or may not be in cahoots with the Nazis. Further, it was particularly shocking that one of Hollywood’s greatest young heart-throbs would be wasted in a film without a romantic subplot.

Who wanted to see Bill Holden, of all people, grubby and unkissed in the middle of a POW camp?

However, Billy Wilder stuck to his choice, and William Holden ended up turning in a well-modulated and affective performance. The sense of his alienation from his barrack-mates as they grow to suspect that he is a Nazi spy becomes palpable as the movie progresses, and we suddenly have what was born in Sunset Boulevard come to full maturity: That strange mixture of beautiful American maleness corrupted to the point of unexpected cynicism that would become the Holden trademark.

Holden proved Wilder’s instincts absolutely correct by his fine turn as the crook Sefton. It seems that Hollywood agreed, because that year Holden won the profession’s other Golden Boy. He took home the Oscar that had eluded him, and it marked him, finally, as one of Hollywood’s most talented leading men.

(For a longer review of Stalag 17, see my review at Clapboard Jungle.)

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