The Lady from Shanghai (1947)
Directed, produced, and screenplay by Orson Welles
Columbia, 88 minutes, not-rated
★
It has been said that in his prime, Orson Welles never made a bad movie. Yes, he did; it's called The Lady from Shanghai. The title means less than you might imagine. It is set in Mexico, the Caribbean, and San Francisco, the latter’s Chinatown being the closest we get to the Celestial Kingdom other than a bit of travel story babble.
Welles directed, wrote the screenplay, produced, and starred in the film and he didn't do a particularly great job in any of these roles. He plays a free-spirited roustabout known as “Black Irish” Michael O'Hara. The “black” part is it backhanded allusion the legend that survivors of the Spanish Armada washed ashore on Ireland and cohabitated with some of Erin’s lasses–an explanation for why some Irish have darker features. I suppose this helps explain why Welles doesn't look the slightest bit Irish. He doesn't sound Irish either, though he labors through a lousy brogue. I am of Scottish and German ancestry but I'm pretty sure that with a little practice, I'd sound more Irish than Welles. Black also refers to Michael's temperament. He killed a Franco spy during the Spanish Civil War, and though he is well spoken and formal for a sailor, he lets it slip that he could kill again under the right circumstances.
Hubris comes in the form of pursuing a beautiful woman named Elsa, whom he calls “Rosalie” (Rita Hayworth). Too bad she's married, and to a famous trial lawyer Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane) to boot. Against his better judgment, Michael takes a job on Bannisters’ yacht. Given that Bannister is crippled and a contemptible, amoral creep, it’s not hard to see why Elsa might desire someone more robust and kinder. The film is overly seasoned with references to how Michael is attractive, strong, and tough. Too bad he doesn't have a brain to go with the physical package.
The Lady from Shanghai. Hmmm…. Another meaning of “shanghai” is being coerced or tricked into doing some unfavorable task. That's metaphorically true for Michael. All of this movie’s dealings require the adjective “double” to make sense of them. Even then we are not entirely sure we are viewing a WYSIWYG situation. Is Elsa in love Michael? Maybe. Or is it George Grisby (Glenn Anders), her husband’s law partner? Do either of the two Bannisters give a potato for the dense Michael, or is one of them trying to save him?
Sharks are discussed and appear in the film, and it's another ham-handed metaphor. Suffice it to say that no credit accrues to the legal profession in this movie. Bannister is filthy rich and is part of the subspecies of that small class that invites adjectives such as: self-indulgent, misanthropic, sexist, classist, judgmental, and cold- hearted. Michael finds himself a patsy in several schemes. By the time he figures out he's being used, viewers wonder what breed of fool is so deprived of brain cells that he couldn't see that plans presented to him have more holes than a $600 pair of distressed designer jeans. You need not have majored in philosophy to determine that Welles’ screenplay is severely logic impaired.
The Lady from Shanghai is famous for its climactic scene inside a mirrored funhouse at a closed-for-the-season amusement park. It is only here that Welles shines. It may be because he isn't on the screen much during pivotal moments and could pay attention to the sort of detail that won renown: unconventional camera angles, narrative bleeding into surrealism, and shadows so dark you could slice them with a knife.
Cool stuff, but not enough to redeem this badly aged dud. Wells was a consummate mannered actor who sought psychological impact over realistic human actions but with the right script, his flair for melodrama melded with straight drama Not here. “Hokey” is a descriptor that springs to mind. Rita Hayworth is a gorgeous presence, but one with little depth. There are scenes of her and Sloane wearing faux seafaring garb that makes them look like Lovey and Thurston Howell from Gilligan’s Island. In this film, I'd liken Hayworth to a classier version of Marilyn Monroe, but with comparable (non-)acting chops.
The Lady from Shanghai is hailed as a vintage Orson Welles film. Sorry, but the calendar has flipped and it now seems an implausible mess. It should be moved out of the classics file, but cue it the next time you plan a weekend slate of campy movies.
Rob Weir
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