Alain Delon 1935-2024

The unbelievably handsome actor Alain Delon, 1935-2024.

The French actor Alain Delon died yesterday at the age of 88. Delon was an icon of European cinema, and a towering figure in French culture. True to his reputation as a lover of animals, the announcement of Delon’s death mentioned his dog as well as his children.  

Thanks to his striking good looks, Delon was offered a contract by producer David O. Selznick in 1957, but he turned it down. Delon forged his own path through cinema, and it did not often involve Hollywood. He quickly became a star in France, and 1960’s Plein Soleil (released in the United States as Purple Noon, even though the French translates to Full Sun) established Delon as an international star. Delon’s performance as Tom Ripley was a perfect blend of charm and danger. The contrast between Delon’s angelic looks and Ripley’s immoral actions was highly effective.  

No summary of Alain Delon’s life and career would be complete without mentioning his looks. To say that Alain Delon was handsome is not enough—it’s like saying the Louvre is just a museum, or the Beatles were just a band. Delon was often described as the most handsome man in the movies, and I would agree with that. Delon had a full head of black hair, piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and arched eyebrows that made his face very expressive. The camera loved Delon, and directors quickly figured out that he was an actor capable of delivering expressive performances even with minimal dialogue. A perfect example is the 1967 film Le Samourai. There’s no dialogue until about 10 minutes into the movie, and you don’t need any dialogue—Delon’s face tells the story and gives you all the information you need.  

Delon made several American films, starting with a role in the 1964 anthology film The Yellow Rolls-Royce. In 1965 and 1966, Delon made his biggest push in Hollywood, as he starred in Once a Thief, with Ann-Margret, Lost Command, with Anthony Quinn, George Segal, and frequent Delon co-star Maurice Ronet, and Texas Across the River, a Western with Dean Martin. None of these films were especially successful, partially because mid-1960's Hollywood didn’t know what to do with Alain Delon. So, Delon went back to France, and I don’t blame him. He wasn’t going to find a movie like Le Samourai or La Piscine in Hollywood.  

Delon kept churning out the hits in France, stylish crime thrillers like The Sicilian Clan, and Borsalino with fellow French heartthrob Jean-Paul Belmondo. One of Delon’s finest performances came in 1976’s Monsieur Klein, which features the theme of being someone’s double—also a key element in Plein Soleil and La Piscine. Delon was also a producer of many of his 1970’s films, and he eventually branched out into other ventures, such as men’s cologne.  

Controversy followed Delon numerous times. In 1968, Delon’s bodyguard Stevan Markovic was found dead in a garbage dump. Delon was questioned, but never charged with any crime. The case turned into a lurid tabloid scandal, as allegations were made that Markovic had photos of Prime Minister George Pompidou’s wife in compromising positions, and that Markovic was planning to blackmail Pompidou. The case only increased the French public’s fascination with Delon, and his career was unscathed. The Sicilian Clan and La Piscine were the third and fourth highest-grossing films in France for 1969. Even late in life, Delon still made headlines, as earlier in 2024 his children were pursuing legal actions against each other, regarding their father’s health and care. The life of an icon is not always an easy one.  

In the United States, Delon never became a household name, but more of a cult figure of cool. I first encountered Delon’s films when I saw Le Samourai at a revival movie house in 1997. It was a new print of the film, and upon seeing Le Samourai I immediately thought that Alain Delon was the coolest, most handsome guy I had ever seen. All these years later, I’d say that 16-year-old me hit the nail on the head.  

Thanks to DVD’s and streaming services, it’s never been easier for American fans to watch the masterpieces of Alain Delon’s lengthy career. Delon’s films continue to find audiences—in 2021, La Piscine was held over for 18 weeks at the Film Forum in New York City, a testament to that film’s beauty, and the performances by Delon, Romy Schneider, Maurice Ronet, and Jane Birkin.  

Delon’s romantic relationship with Romy Schneider had been over for years by the time they filmed La Piscine together in 1968. But watching the film, you see the deep emotional connection Delon and Schneider shared. One of my favorite extras of the Criterion Collection DVD of La Piscine is the footage of Delon greeting Schneider at the airport just before filming of the movie began. You can see the sheer joy and delight on their faces upon seeing each other again. And Delon speaks so highly of Schneider’s talent as an actress, and how he convinced director Jacques Deray that she was the perfect choice for the role.  

Alain Delon was always much more than a pretty face. Delon was a fantastic actor, and his performances are masterpieces of naturalism. Delon was also an avid art collector—much of his collection was sold in 2023 in an auction by Bonhams Paris, with the proceeds amounting to $8.8 million. Like his fellow French star and sex symbol Brigitte Bardot, Delon was a lover of animals, and he was especially devoted to his dogs. Alain Delon was truly a Renaissance man, and he will be missed by fans of cinema throughout the world. But I feel confident in saying that Delon’s legendary performances will live on through many generations.  

Book Review: Milkweed, a novel by Jerry Spinelli (2003)

The cover of  Milkweed, a novel by Jerry Spinelli, 2003.

Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli might seem to have an unlikely plot for a young adult novel. It is set in the Warsaw Ghetto during World War II. The narrator is a young Gypsy (Roma) boy who thinks his name is “Stopthief,” since that is what people yell after him. Eventually his friend Uri gives him the name of Misha.  

Misha is an orphan and doesn’t remember much about his family. He lives with other orphan boys, who are all Jewish, and they steal whatever they need to survive. At the beginning of the novel, World War II has begun, but the Jewish ghetto in Warsaw has not been established yet.  

Misha is ignorant of the political situation brewing around him, and he swings from admiring the Nazis, whom he calls Jackboots, to wanting to be Jewish, and eventually he voluntarily enters the ghetto. Misha befriends a Jewish girl named Janina, and once he finds a place where he can sneak under the ghetto wall, his thievery of food helps her family survive.  

The novel succeeds in large part because of Spinelli’s ability to channel Misha’s voice. Every new experience stirs wonder in Misha, and Spinelli communicates this very well. Although the reader knows what the terrible fate of the Warsaw Ghetto will be, Misha has no idea. The mounting tension and dread are supplied not by the narrative itself, but by the reader’s own engagement with the text.  

Milkweed is a beautiful and haunting novel about a sad and difficult subject. Spinelli ably conjures up a bleak world where the most pressing concern is where your next meal is coming from.