Film is not a beauty contest, but if it were, Alain Delon would surely have won the title of most handsome actor of the 1960s.

That's a subjective choice, of course, and as such, Delon is the sort of character about whom writers often fall back on the word "arguably" — as in "arguably the most handsome" — which is a kind of cop-out, because it leaves the discussion for someone else. When it comes to Delon, many have argued that. I loved Anthony Lane's extensive analysis of Delon's appeal in The New Yorker earlier this year. And none other than Jane Fonda, who co-starred with Delon in 1964's "Joy House," described him as "the most beautiful human being."

The French star, who died Sunday, made more than 100 films in a career that spanned 50 years, but for that one transformative decade in cinema history — beginning with the Patricia Highsmith adaptation "Purple Noon" ("Plein Soleil") in 1960 and continuing through his iconic role in Jacques Deray's "La Piscine" — Delon came to represent an unattainable ideal, with his piercing wolf-blue eyes, Elvis Presley cheekbones and fit, ready-to-wrestle physique.

But looks were only part of the equation. Given his own working-class background, Delon possessed a streetwise toughness from the start, but in his earliest roles (the eponymous Italian brawler in Luchino Visconti's "Rocco and His Brothers," the amorous stockbroker in Michelangelo Antonioni's "L'eclisse") he came across as slightly puppyish.