Narrating From the Great Beyond

I remember my first encounter with a dead narrator. It was at a screening of Sunset Boulevard at a revival house in Greenwich Village. Anyone who’s seen Billy Wilder’s classic film noir will remember the opening shot of a suited man floating face-down in Nora Desmond’s swimming pool, as the voiceover intones (slyly and cynically, as befitting a film noir narrator): “Yes, this is Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. It’s about five o’clock in the morning. That’s the Homicide Squad — comp...