Alain Delon! The French James Dean! The male Brigitte Bardot! Was ever there a face more handsome? A Frenchman more debonaire? A prettyboy so manly? Don Draper WISHES he was as cool Alain Delon! He was the dreamiest of all the mid-century cinematic exports. He had the look à la mode, the hauteur of a GOD (or maybe a hustler), and the kind of casual Euro-swagger that reduced women to puddles. His work in Purple Noon is simply beyond the beyond. One of the best movies OF ALL TIME. A breakout performance FOR THE AGES. Sure, he’s a notorious asshole – there was that nasty business with Nico, and the bastard son he never acknowledged, and, yes, he may have grizzled mightily in his golden years, but if you don’t swoon looking at these pictures, there is just something seriously wrong with you. Seriously. Wrong. With you. Many more pics after the jump, including my absolute favorite, the bottom one. In it, he’s seated at some rah-sha-sha dinner party, next to a giddy Marie-Hélène de Rothschild (the unquestioned queen of European high society). He is at the absolute pinnacle of his success – he’s rich, handsome, one of the biggest stars in the world – and yet he looks absolutely lost. Helpless. Like a sad little boy who’s opened all his presents at Christmas and didn’t get that Red Ryder BB gun. It’s a searing portrait of jet-set ennui, of celebrity existentialism. It makes me love him even more, if that’s humanly possible. Oh, to cradle him my arms! I LOVE YOU ALAIN!