Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 6-June-10
Spoiler Rating: Medium

Macao (1952)

Macao belongs to a genre that I wish were more common today, a quieter cousin to big-budget adventures like James Bond's where the action is heavily flavored by location. After the pairing of Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell raised temperatures in His Kind of Woman (1951), the tough-'n'-sexy stars reunited in this film as drifters who meet in the "Monte Carlo of the East." He is a New Yorker experienced in sailing, gambling, and running from the law; she a fellow American experienced in singing, petty theft, and being pawed by men the world over. They arrive on the same boat from Hong Kong with a friendly salesman (William Bendix), and all three immediately head to a prominent casino looking for business or pleasure. À la Pépé le Moko, the casino's owner (Brad Dexter) is a felon who avoids arrest by staying within a small area beyond the jurisdiction of Western authorities. Judging a book by its cover, he takes the manly Mitchum for a cop come to flush him out. His desire to remove this threat is heightened when he gets a load of Russell.

One reason why this type of movie isn't popular anymore may be that the number of exotic locations — places where English-speaking audiences feel as if they could really lose themselves — is dwindling. Just about anywhere outside Antarctica travelers can now eat at McDonald's or stream episodes of their favorite TV show, and even when people don't like or can't afford to travel they recognize images from all over the globe. Yet location alone does not distinguish a picture like Macao. The lifestyle of the characters also adds to its mystique. (This being the case, I recommend that future additions to the genre be set in the past for added exoticism. The 1950s would do nicely.) The notion of men and women adrift in the wide world, flying by the seat of their pants (or tight skirts, in Russell's case) captures some of what makes both traveling and daydreaming a delight. Wanderers suggest that anything is possible, including the reinvention of themselves. On screen they provide a vicarious thrill even in places that might be familiar and even when they decide they want to settle down, as happens when Mitchum and Russell snuggle up in a sampan. Before they can refashion themselves in a romantic mold, however, they must overcome her lingering fear of letting down her guard and the plots of Mitchum's new enemy. The story is largely predictable, but that does not stop Macao and its two seekers from offering a good dose of escapism.

Copyright © 2010 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.