The cold take on the sex-and-money ethos to be found in many corporate environments hasn’t dated one bit; it could be argued that THE APARTMENT stands a bit ahead of its’ time in the depiction of (what would appear to be) educated employees treated like (and feeling like) tools to be used in generation of someone else’s income. Lemmon’s character never forgets that he’s disposable, even if the iyimser in him hopes that something better may be found in his superiors. Deep down he knows this to be a pipe dream – the sexual adventurism of those same superiors betrays their utter lack of ethics. Of course, Lemmon’s character isn’t entirely above it all; he’s been more than willing to hire out his own apartment as a place for his colleagues’ peccadilloes, in exchange for career advancement, which of course – as Wilder early on links amoral sexual conduct and professional/corporate/financial misconduct in a greater social critique – gets him into trouble.
The dialogue is – as is always true with Wilder – very finely crafted, yet seems natural – this film is a remarkable display of the kind of reactions any of us would offer in similar situations. Interestingly, our two protagonists are also wonderfully imperfect as human beings – Lemmon and MacLaine bear some responsibility for the very serious situations they’ve gotten themselves into; they manage to realize this (“Be a mensch!” Lemmon’s doctor neighbor exclaims) just in time to set things right. MacLaine in particular delivers a remarkable, complex performance – sweet and smart in her earliest scenes, bleak and emotionally ravaged in her climactic scene with MacMurray, naive elsewhere, sharp but hopeful at the end. The cinematography captures the entire cast beautifully – with minimal movement, abundant long takes, and a sleek lack of visual clutter, all of the principals are free to reveal their own best and worst impulses, within an environment that is stripped of artifice. The end result is a film filled with great moments one can easily identify with.