Kings of Comedy

That is called drama--the conflict of two seductive types, like the romantic and the cynic. The cynic gets the best lines, but Wilder made sure that this battle of heart vs. mind was a fair fight. And often he gave the heart every reason to conquer--as in the climax of Some Like It Hot, when a despondent Monroe sings (tremulously, beautifully) I'm Through with Love and Tony Curtis waddles in on high heels to plant the most eerily passionate kiss in film history.

Temperamentally, Wilder was a conservative. As a writer, he partnered with Charles Brackett for 15 films over a dozen years (1938-50) and with I.A.L. Diamond for 12 films over a quarter-century (1957-81). He stayed married to the same woman for more than a half-century. He remained true as well to his mordant muse, both when his movies were acclaimed hits and later, when they tanked at the box office. Fashions changed; he didn't. A Wilder script was always recognizable by its adamantine dazzle, whether in 1931 Berlin (Emil and the Detectives) or 1981 Los Angeles (Buddy Buddy).

Hollywood profited from Wilder's voice, mimicked it in films by lesser artists and finally consigned it to retirement. The old pro watched a new generation--the "kids with beards"--come to power, yet he kept going to the office, planning scripts, dreaming schemes. Only toward the end did he acknowledge that his big carnival ride was over. At a 1997 testimonial he told the story of an old man who informs his doctor that he can no longer pee. The doctor's diagnosis: "You've peed enough."

Today American movies are sadly and irrevocably bereft of Billy Wilder's misanthropic humanism and sparkling wit. Now that's enough to make you cynical.