The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947)

"Maybe I'll live so long that I'll forget her. Maybe I'll die trying." 

Introduction

Two years after Citizen Kane, the genius Orson Welles married Rita Hayworth. This was her second marriage lasting three years before they separated – but not before a brief rekindling of their romance on the set of The Lady from Shanghai. It didn't last long and they divorced in 1948. In that regard, Hayworth and Welles relationship is an important factor to consider when analysing this strange mess of a film. Detailed by James Steffen and Rob Nixon on Turner Classic Movies, a rough cut of the film was 155 minutes long and was chopped down by editor Viola Lawrence to a mere 87 minutes - David Benedict, introducing the film at the BFI Retrospective, was under no illusion about the distorted and clunky "short" film we were yet to watch. This is not Orson Welles at 100% - indeed, he is barely at 50% - but amongst the awkward accents, cold (but dull) characters and gossip-fuelled production there lies something brutal and beautiful about filmmaking and art - and the mysterious question raised as to whether Art reveals the Artist; whether intentional or not...

Scene Hopping Story

Orson Welles is Michael O'Hara - or "Black Irish" to his fellow shipmates - a seaman who assists on-board a yacht owned by sneaky lawyer Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane) and his wife Elsa (Rita Hayworth). Elsa falls for Black Irish, but Arthur doesn't intervene highlighting the dangerous game the two are playing - we wonder whether foul-play is at hand. The two lovers slowly realise an opportunity to escape together, but all is not what it seems as friends of the Bannisters become deceitful - whilst even Elsa and O'Hara become distrusting of each other. Can they ever live a life together? Or are they simply not meant to be?

The characterisation is immediately unbalanced, as you try and find your grasp of the narrative out at sea. Orson Welles is putting on an Irish accent as he attempts to woo this upper-class rich woman - a woman who, opposed to the ravishing red-head Rita Hayworth defines, is a short-cut, platinum-blonde. The latter was a choice Welles made without consulting Harry Cohn and consequently added another reason for studios to despise him. The story sporadically jumps from a yacht (owned by Errol Flynn) to a courtroom, before leaping to an empty fairground making you dizzy as you desperately reach for some sort of solid foundation that The Lady from Shanghai simply doesn't have. As if recalling a dream, you question what happened - were we within a Chinese Theatre? Or were we within San Francisco? (We were within both)

The finale is a shoot-out in a room of mirrors and, though the characters look desperately to see what is a mirror and what is not, we realise that the confusing and surrealist edge that is successfully shown here does not reflect the film as a whole - and simply reminds us how confusing the story is. Both holding mirror shoot-out final sequences and Chinese themes, Guy Hamilton's The Man with the Golden Gun clearly realised how effective the finale was by using mirrors and guns within the opening action-sequence too or the maligned 007 adventure. In the repeated-reflections of the mirrored-maze, Welles even nods to The Great Train Robbery as Rita Hayworth shoots to camera.

Controlled Chiaroscuro

Kim Newman writes how The Lady from Shanghai is a "broken mirror of a film, with shards of genius that can never be put together into anything that makes sense", and the mirror truly is shattered into small pieces. Orson Welles frames so many shots in a manner that echoes his incredible film-noir framing in Touch of Evil. A clear use of background and foreground; defined silhouettes of the couple within an aquarium (that has surely inspired every couple-meet-in-aquarium scene ever since); a birds-eye-view shot above the yacht looking down on Hayworth as she sunbathes is geometric in its framing, except for her feminine figure.

But the story itself remains a convoluted confusion. The Irish narration draws our attention to the strange accent Welles is using and, in many instances, voids the entire purpose of narration completely. In the hope that a character explaining the story illuminates elements we're not privy to, instead "Black Irish" seems to ramble on when describing, multiple times, how he won't join the Bannister's on the yacht ... only to be convinced easily enough when he is offered money and Rita Hayworth says she'll "make it worth his while". Why did we even listen to his thoughts in the first instance?

But, there is a reason Woody Allen references The Lady from Shanghai at the end of Manhattan Murder Mystery. A murder within the story and a relationship whereby we are not sure who is playing who. It begs the question between Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles, two stars at the top of their game in 1943 (though Hayworth's Gilda was a couple of years away...), and who may have chosen to be with each other for more financially-motivated purposes. It is a strange beast, but it is unforgettable - and Orson Welles clearly struggling to effectively adapt a novel (Sherwood King's If I Die Before I Wake) is something worth watching unto itself. But this is a Rita Hayworth film - and her refusal to become the cliché vixen that Gilda had sold as her image is fascinating. So calculating and cold, with her wide-eyes become tight and sly, proves how versatile she was. For this, The Lady from Shanghai is a crucial Golden-Age Hollywood viewing necessity.

Originally written for Flickering Myth on 30th June 2013

Gilda (Charles Vidor, 1946)

"I thought we agreed that women and gambling didn't mix."

Introduction

In The Shawshank Redemption (titled Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption in Stephen King's Different Seasons) there is a moment whereby we see a scene from Gilda. Andy Dufrane (Tim Robbins) attempts to ask Red (Morgan Freeman) to bring him "Rita Hayworth" but before he can ask, Red tells him to wait so that he - and all the prisoners - can fully appreciate her cinematic introduction: "Gilda, are you decent?" [she throws her hair back] "Me? Sure. I'm decent".

The prisoners cheer in what may be one of the most iconic moments in Hollywood history; a moment that truly established her as a star from the trailer alone. But Gilda carries more than mere eye-candy for the viewers, it is also considered the "gayest, straight film" according to  David Benedict (who introduced the film at the BFI) as the love-triangle seems to be more between Gilda's (Rita Hayworth) husband Ballin Mundson (George Macready) and Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford) ... at last until the final act anyway.

The Dark Alley

Opening on Johnny Farrell rolling the dice and winning a fixed gambling game, we realise that this is a man down on his luck, despite his winnings. Attacked briefly, he is saved by Mundson - carrying a cane with a concealed blade - and the two strike an unlikely friendship. It does beg the question as to why does a high-rolling, Casino-owning Ballin Mundson lurk in the dark alleys and save attractive men? Considering the 1946 time-period, you can leave it to your own imagination as to the subtext raised in these opening moments.

Ballin and Johnny form a partnership, with Johnny as manager of the Casino Ballin owns. After a short holiday, Ballin returns with a new wife: Gilda. Within moments, we realise there is more to her than meets the eye as she has a history that, somehow, involves Johnny. Rather than adhering to a strict generic code, Gilda manages to blend a wide range of filmmaking styles to become unique in its own right. Briefly, Johnny Farrell's immorality and narration firmly root the film in the Film Noir genre, but the romantic edge, musical numbers and comedic touches obscure this simplistic description.

Glenn Ford plays a character who holds unclear motives. Though he had a relationship with Gilda, he is cruel and unkind to her - as if to highlight how she is what has come between himself and Ballin. At one point, Ballin orders Johnny to go home with Gilda - but Johnny refuses, arguing that he should be with Ballin. He reluctantly leaves, but their relationship is clearly hinting at something more than friendship. Johnny Farrell's weak smile, sense of self-loathing and his abusive treatment of Gilda turns him into a character who you find difficult to like - but I think we all know the true challenges he faces and how his actions are all in re-action to his true love of Ballin Mundson, and the conflict of emotions he has towards Gilda.

Eroticism and Class

But Gilda oozes sexuality and the single movement of removing a satin glove, within a dance routine, in a repetitive stroke is considered one of the most erotic scenes in cinema. Her moody, sultry singing of the unforgettable "Put the blame on mame", whether it is front and centre in the middle of a club - or as a late-night private song - still draws you into her animalistic prowess. The strange narrative that twists and turns in a manner that loses a sense of consistency by the end doesn't destroy the performances - and indeed, George Macready plays a villain that wouldn't look out of place in a James Bond movie as he wears a long formal dressing-gown and, akin to Oddjob, a concealed weapon. Even his baldness precedes 007's arch nemesis Ernst Stavro Blofeld.

Like Johnny, we are viewing this world as a visitor. We are introduced and mesmerised by the world Ballin inhabits. They are all despicable characters - Gilda marrying a man for his wealth; Johnny content in his gambling occupation; Ballin as the owner of a Casino that makes money off Nazi's. But we are still drawn to the world and the complex and unlikely relationship between the characters. This explains the love for the film, and why people continue to be drawn to the story. The romantic couple "hate" each other; the villain confesses how he loves his wife - and yet we root for down-and-out Johnny. All these elements ensure Gilda is not forgotton, but I doubt it would remain as unforgettable without the graceful, elegant Rita Hayworth portraying the reckless and wil Gilda, who manages to portray a confident woman - but a woman men love to hate.

Gilda is playing at the BFI this week on June 28th - click here to get tickets!

Originally written/published for Flickering Myth on 23rd June 2013

Only Angels Have Wings (Howard Hawks, 1939)

"I'm hard to get, Geoff. All you have to do is ask me."

Introduction

Recently, Top Gun played at The Prince Charles Cinema and, writing a review of the film, it is clear that the success of Top Gun is in the aeriel sequences of brutal, streamline fighter-jets swooping and speeding across the sky. Both Top Gun and Only Angels Have Wings were nominated for Special Effects at the Academy Awards but are separated by almost 40 years but Only Angels Have Wings still portrays flight sequences that make your jaw drop. Starring Jean Arthur, Cary Grant and - in her first major screen appearance - Rita Hayworth, Only Angels Have Wings was another success under the direction of Howard Hawks. But it is Rita Hayworth that the BFI are celebrating this month, showing a retrospective of her entire career with sold out screenings already for many of her films - and in Only Angels Have Wings she steals every scene she's in.

"Calling Barranca,.. Calling Barranca..."

Showgirl Bonnie Lee (Jean Arthur) arrives at Barranca Airport by boat and is pursued by two flirtatious pilots - denying their advances and showing her independence, they arrive at a bar and we are introduced to their Captain - Geoff Carter (Cary Grant). Carter manages the flights that deliver mail through treachourous terrain but, in an attempt to woo Bonnie, the two pilots both travel through rough weather leaving only one to survive. Bonnie is horrified to find how casually the men take it - laughing and joking and, even repeating "Who's Joe?" when she begs them to think about the deceased pilot. These men are used to such horror and have developed a way to bury it deep down and move on quickly so they can live another day. This carefree attitude - and Geoff Carter - ensure that Bonnie stays for a little longer.

We are also introduced to a pilot who is frowned upon for choosing to parachute from a plane, leaving the remaining mechanic on board to die. This is Bat MacPherson (Richard Barthelmess), married to Judy (Rita Hayworth), a woman who previously had a relationship with Carter. Despite the Golden Hollywood edge, this dark story places Cary Grant in the middle of two women - but with the clear intention of setting up Cary Grant with Jean Arthur. In that regard, Rita Hayworth is the sexy, seductress - the drunken, attractive lady who Grant could have... but chooses not to, because he appreciates the homely Bonnie Lee (Jean Arthur).

Hawkisms

It is interesting to note how Cahiers du Cinema believed Only Angels Have Wings was an example of auteur Cinema. Written, directed and produced by Hawks, it has all the trademarks of the theory but the crucial connection is how it manages to marry together elements of both his pre-1939 career and hints at the future. Dave Kehr writes for The Chicago Reader how Only Angels Have Wings depicts "themes he was developing throughout the 30s [that reach a] perfect clarity ... without yet confronting the darker intimations that would haunt his films of the 40s and 50s".

Howard Hawks is a fascinating figure in cinema through his varied career, directing hit-after-hit to the mainstream while retaining a freedom of creativity and independence when choosing each project. Contemporary directors such as Ang Lee and Danny Boyle could be compared to how eclectic his mix of genre's were including Westerns such as Rio Bravo, Gangster films in Scarface and comedies in Bringing Up Baby and His Girl Friday. Even Only Angels Have Wings can't be easily pigeon-holed into a genre and instead seems to successfully move between drama, romance, comedy - and ultimately adventure shown through the majestic, free-falling planes that drop and curve in the sky.

The airplanes are front-and-centre for many audiences - myself included. Kim Newman writes how the sequences are "remarkable, exciting, stunt-heavy flying sequences" but it is the drama and tension in the airport that dominates - and it does through playful banter, enjoyable sing-a-longs and heartfelt dialogue. Geoff Carter is a man that cannot be tamed and Bonnie soon realises that her love for him needs to tolerate his "need for speed".

Only Angels Haves Wings is all about balance - balancing love and loss; balancing stasis and change; balancing stoicism and grief. It's clear from the start that is is Bonnie who balances Geoff - and Rita Hayworth is the unforgettable, sultry one that got away. Lucky for us, this was only the start of her career...

The next screening of Only Angels Have Wings is on June 14th 2013 at BFI Southbank - click here to buy tickets!

This was written/published for Flickering Myth on 11th June 2013