Asher LubertoIf you look up “movie star” in the dictionary, there’s probably a picture of Alain Delon. There’s never been a greater example of star power — the infectious aura that helps the audience not only watch you, but feel you, adore you and admire you the way a little girl admires her favorite boy band. With wonderful infatuation, we watched Delon light up the screen.
The actor passed away on Aug. 18, but his presence lives on through a collection of memorable classics. I’ll never forget when I first saw Delon on screen, laying poolside at a villa while the sun beat down on his chest, the actor’s bronzed skin shimmering in the Riviera sun. Who is this man? I thought. He makes Brad Pitt look average. This is someone whose looks over the years have been described as unparalleled, rapturous, gorgeous, sumptuous, eye-catching and endlessly cool, and quite frankly, he’s the most beautiful actor to ever grace the screen.
It wasn’t always easy for Delon, however. Before he was starring in films like La Piscine, Purple Noon, Le Samouraï and The Leopard, establishing himself as a renowned actor, he was a nobody sent to boot camp by his parents. His looks got him into lots of trouble, so much so that his mother would strap a sign to his chest saying “Look, don’t touch.” But it was those very same looks that got him discovered while walking the streets of France. “It’s him!” cried Luchino Visconti. “It’s my Rocco!” The Italian modernist had been looking for an angelic figure for his next feature, Rocco and His Brothers, the tender, melancholy family drama that put Delon on the map.
Delon, his wife Nathalie and their son Anthony arrive at the premiere of “Tintin et le Temple du Soleil,” on December 14, 1969, in Paris. (Getty)
In a medium shot, Delon stands in the shower while water drips down his face. He wasn’t the only one drenched in the theater — women found Delon to be simply irresistible. In the following years, he cranked out more movies than Nicolas Cage, establishing himself as a sex symbol, a fashion icon and a versatile thespian as deft at playing gangsters as playboys, often embracing complicated figures who wind up doing unspeakable things as a result of those around him. In another breakout film, Purple Noon, he offered a bouquet of beauty that blew Hollywood out of the water.
No offense to Robert Redford or Paul Newman, but if they were at a bar with Delon, they might as well be Willem Defoe or Steve Buscemi. Watching Delon play the original Ripley, a sociopath with a knack for imitating people, you honestly have to ask yourself if you’ve ever seen someone so good-looking. His handsome killer is a paradox — sensitive as a put-upon friend but ruthless as a killer, a versatility Delon displayed better than anyone. Nowadays antiheroes are normal. Directors want audiences to sympathize with their assassins, but they don’t have stars who can sell murder like Delon, with a profound, almost preternatural sadness that makes you root for the murderer.
Delon’s eyes shift from predator to prey in a single blink, especially in his collaborations with Jean Pierre Melville, who made thrillers so icy they could give you frostbite. Le Samouraï is Delon’s most esteemed picture, a chiller in which Delon sulks through life as if diagnosed with cancer. He’s been spotted leaving the scene of a crime in a trenchcoat, giving him not many places to hide. Like a bird trapped in a cage, a metaphor Melville returns to throughout his film, Delon accepts his fate as a prisoner of espionage without putting up much of a fight. His eyes say more than words ever could, hinting at a death we can all assume is inevitable.
Delon arrives at the 72nd Cannes Film Festival on May 19, 2019, to be awarded with an Honorary Palme d’Or. (VALERY HACHE/Getty)
Delon could showcase theatrical emotions as well, but he excelled in quiet gestures that speak volumes. As much as he tears your heart out as Rocco, screaming pitilessly from a moonlit alley, it’s his subtlety that separates him from the acting crowd. His greatest attribute, aside from his looks, is the way Delon can say so much with so few words. It’s what drew some of the biggest names in art house cinema to Delon, including Visconti, Jean-Pierre Melville, and Jacques Deray, who gave Delon his greatest movie star showcase.
Much has been said about his role in The Leopard, in which he plays a count alongside Burt Lancaster in 18th century Italy, as well as his role in Le Samouraï, but there’s never been a greater movie star being a movie star performance than Delon in La Piscine. Maybe he was sexier in Purple Noon, maybe he was more emotionally vulnerable in Rocco. But this is Delon at his most Delon, the ensemble of sex symbol, fashion icon and wildly talented actor meshing to create one of the most intoxicating performances ever conceived. From the first shot of Delon lounging by the pool with his girlfriend, making out under the Riviera sun, to the countless shots of Delon turning his head to the camera, inventing the first ever example of Blue Steel, this is a fashion show turned cinematic masterpiece. It’s the greatest Skinemax movie ever made. Delon, Romy Schnieder and Jane Birkin get hot and bothered in a Riviera heatwave, as the characters get hopelessly entangled in a crime that leads to murder.
Delon doesn’t do much besides swim, saunter and sizzle — but he’s so captivating, dressed in a collection of cool summer outfits, that you can’t help but be glued to everything he does. Like a zoologist studies a rare species, we study the azure of his eyes, the elegance of his walk, the endless appeal of his fashion, the way he moves through life as if someone is watching him at every second, as if every moment on screen is a performance in the art of beauty. He turns nothing into something — tanning, walking and lounging becomes something aesthetically marvelous. It’s what movie stars do, and it’s what Delon did better than anyone.
Delon in the 1960s (Bettmann/Getty)