MACAO (1952)

You are not alone if you think this might be a follow-up to His Kind of Woman, released the previous year, or perhaps its backstory from, The Las Vegas Story released the same year. Robert Mitchum steps into Victor Mature's shoes for the male lead to absolve any additional confusion. The film opens with a voice-over introduction about Macao being its own Las Vegas. Coincidence? Of the three RKO Radio Pictures, “Woman” was superior to this box office failure. Jane Russell seemingly uses a slightly altered script and wardrobe of a nightclub singer looking for a gig while snarling a few lame comebacks to any advancing male. Despite its star power, this eighty-one-minute film plays out slower than a one-person rickshaw. That responsibility falls heavily on director, Josef von Sternberg, who had few fans among the cast. The screenplay by Bernard Schoenfeld and Stanley Rubin did not make this a memorable experience, either. Everyone’s low-key performance is sleep-inducing and it takes nearly sixty minutes to get enough energy to overcome narcolepsy. Producer, Alex Gottlieb, hired the uncredited Nicholas Ray to step in and revitalize the climactic fight scene between Robert Mitchum and Brad Dexter. The result is not noteworthy, so I can only imagine how Sternberg originally planned it.

Memorable is Mitchum's chemistry opposite Russell, his kind of woman. He always earns his salary but glides through this film to ensure his house payment is on time. His trademark walking, as if his knees bend fore and aft, skims across floors with a manikin's upper body. He plays a laid-back drifter avoiding authorities in America. Russell is the only detail that he and Dexter have in common.

Painted into a familiar white strapless performance gown, Russell could never be called diminutive at 5’ 7” plus heels. Once again, a fabulous necklace fills the vacant trapezoid below her neck. Despite a limited vocal and acting range, Russell was blessed with a fine alto voice. Though she appears to be belting out some notes, there is not an equal amount of sound coming out. The curse of early lip-syncing. Also limited is her vocal dynamic, never rising past mezzo-forte for these easy-going numbers. True enough, she was popular just standing still. Russell’s role is not precisely defined, yet she is good enough to pickpocket Mitchum’s wallet in the early going without him immediately noticing. The script subjects both to clichéd misunderstandings, making waves even in port.

Also from that “Vegas” movie is Dexter, again in his stereotypical, mid-century role. He plays the conniving casino owner and underworld boss who hires Russell to sing at his club. He appears to lack sleep for most of the film, perhaps thinking of her night and day. Though wanted by the authorities, he remains safe inside the three-mile limit of international waters. Doing his dirty work is knife-throwing Philip Ahn, one of the great voices this side of George Takei. Gloria Grahame, with the permanent “fever-blistered” upper lip appearance because of her towering Philtrum ridges and pronounced Cupid's Bow, has a small supporting role as a casino dealer and companion of Dexter. Also on Dexter’s leash is slimy police lieutenant, Thomas Gomez, who informs him that one of the new male arrivals is an undercover cop. Jealous over Russell, Dexter tries to bribe Mitchum into leaving Macao with the additional intention of ridding himself of the assumed detective.

William Bendix is introduced as a salesman. Not completely legit, he offers Mitchum a commission if he helps sell a stolen diamond from a necklace to Dexter, who is not interested because it is the same necklace he recently tried selling in Hong Kong. Later, mistaking Bendix for Mitchum from behind, Ahn sends a knife into an obvious protective square patch under his suit coat. The knife barely sticks into the cushioning “corkboard” as it nearly drops from his back—Bendix has to hold it in place—before he falls. Ahn is disabled—possibly killed—improbably fast quicker than a Vulcan nerve pinch by Mitchum’s arm around his throat. Bendix shares his final “sales pitch” with Mitchum.

Note: The three leads all have a turn at potentially funny quips. Rarely do they work all that well. However, there are a couple of noteworthy instances best suited for Mitchum. He asks Bendix what the “C” in his middle name stands for. He quietly replies, “Cicero. But keep it under your hat.” Understanding the obvious, Mitchum says matter-of-factly upon leaving the room, “What else would I do with it?” Mitchum is given another zinger after he delivers Dexter to the authorities in international waters. Drenched from going overboard, Mitchum climbs aboard where Russell awaits. They start to embrace but she cautions him, “You’re all wet!” to which he replies, “You better start getting used to me fresh out of the shower.” Their future is anchored with a kiss.