Welcome to Six Damn Fine Degrees. These instalments will be inspired by the idea of six degrees of separation in the loosest sense. The only rule: it connects – in some way – to the previous instalment. So come join us on our weekly foray into interconnectedness!

“Come think of it, the whole place seemed to have been stricken with the kind of creeping paralysis… out of beat with the rest of the world… crumbling apart in slow motion.” — Joe Gillis, Sunset Boulevard

Last week, Sam did a damn fine job arguing the merits of Billy Wilder’s penultimate film Fedora. I’m very glad he did. I’ve had Fedora on my list of possible subjects to do for a Six Degrees for a long time now but never quite managed it. Every time I thought I would write something I would inevitably come up against a terrible problem, namely that I love Billy Wilder but really, really dislike Fedora. And if you adore a director, why focus on a much-maligned later work if all you’re going to do is malign it some more.

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