Johnny Deadline: THE LADY FROM SHANGHAI

 by JB

I recently plugged a hole in my film knowledge bucket.

The Lady from Shanghai is justifiably famous as one of films that defined the film noir genre. I venture to guess that if you haven’t seen it, you have seen at least one clip—probably the famous “hall of mirrors” sequence, which is a standard in documentaries about film noir.

I had never seen The Lady from Shanghai, never in my life. I’m just one man! The release of the film on 4K Blu-ray disc two weeks ago was just the excuse I needed to finally give it a watch. Also, the film’s 4K debut is not just my excuse, it’s also my alibi.

“I could not have committed the murder, your honor. I was at home watching The Lady from Shanghai! So there.”

“Excuse me, your honor? ...Ah, exactly who is the lady from Shanghai and why does she need to be watched? Allow me to explain.”

The Lady from Shanghai had a storied production. Writer/director Orson Welles only agreed to make the film with then wife Rita Hayworth if Columbia Pictures head Harry Cohn would provide completion funds for an ill-fated stage version of Around the World in 80 Days. Welles adapted a book that horrormeister William Castle had purchased the rights to, hoping to direct it himself. Castle became assistant director on Welles’ production.

Welles filmed in several different locations (a rarity in those days): Acapulco, Sausalito, and San Francisco, among others. Welles aroused the ire of Cohn by trimming Rita Hayworth’s famous red hair and bleaching it blonde. Hayworth later recalled that Welles delivered his film noir masterpiece to Columbia on time and under budget, and the only thing Harry Cohn could say when he saw it? “He's ruined you—he cut your hair off!”

Cohn ordered reshoots and recutting that caused the film to go over budget and delayed the release of the picture by more than a year. Through the years, many critics and viewers have complained that the film’s plot is confusing. Maybe it would have been less confusing if Cohn hadn’t eliminated more than an HOUR of Welles’ original cut.

THE PLOT IN BRIEF: Itinerant sailor Michael O’Hara (Orson Welles) meets the beautiful Elsa (Rita Hayworth) in Central Park while on shore leave in New York. After stepping in and preventing Elsa from getting robbed by a small group of miscreants, Elsa invites Michael to come and crew her husband’s yacht on a journey to San Francisco via the Panama Canal.

On the voyage west, Michael meets Elsa’s husband, Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane), a famous defense attorney; and his partner, George Grisby (Glenn Anders). Michael suspects that Grisby is secretly in love with Elsa, and Grisby suspects that Elsa is secretly in love with Michael. Only one of the men is right.

One night, Grisby hatches a wild scheme: he will pay Michael handsomely to commit a murder; he’s even figured out a way for Michael to never be charged with the crime. What could possibly go wrong?

Though I never found the film confusing, I did find it weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. That is actually one of the many things I liked about it. From the camera work to the editing to the performances, it's as if Welles engineered the film to seem a little skewed, a little off. The frequent charges of incoherence that the film has faced are merely Welles keeping the audience in the dark. Michael is the audience surrogate—in over his head and never quite comprehending the web of lies he's stepped into. It’s a trope that works surprisingly well and one often employed in films noir.

As Elsa's husband, Everett Sloane sets the film’s strange tone, repetitively and annoyingly calling her "lover" in a slimy, simpering, half-shouted sing-song: “oh, LOOVVEERRR!” (Shudder.) It’s quite odd. Glenn Anders' portrayal of Grisby is also extremely weird. As screenwriter, Welles hands him a suitcase full of personal tics and peccadillos—for instance, Grisby is convinced the world will end at any minute and doesn’t want to be around for it—and Anders plays the part with a sweaty intensity and sincerity that is, to say the least, off-putting. Glenn Erickson, the "CineSavant" over at Trailers from Hell, believes Anders deserved a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination for his performance here. I agree.

Rita Hayworth’s performance is outstanding and subtle. It’s a shame that she was pigeonholed and stereotyped as Columbia’s resident sex bomb after her triumph in Gilda. It’s also a shame that Welles and Hayworth never made another picture together; they divorced soon after The Lady from Shanghai wrapped. Welles turned out to be the best director she ever worked with. Speaking of Welles, I love his performance here too. He is adept at playing the sap, and I love how his soft Irish accent makes him sound like a little boy.

The film’s climactic “Hall of Mirrors” sequence is justifiably famous. Imagine if the 20 minutes of additional footage from this sequence had not been cut by Cohn and lost to the ages. Has ever a filmmaker been more abused by the system than Orson Welles? The mind reels.

I recommend The Lady from Shanghai without reservation. Although I have nothing to compare it to, having just seen it for the first time, the transfer on the new disc is flawless with rich blacks, fine detail, and nice contrast. The soundtrack is super clean, which is nice because I have always loved Welles’ use of dialogue. You can close your eyes and imagine that you are listening to one of his famous radio programs from the Thirties.

Other recommendations? Never crew a yacht to San Francisco for a millionaire weirdo who never calls his wife by her first name. Never agree to kill a lawyer for a fee... or even for free. And absolutely NEVER agree to direct a film for Harry Cohn, even if he promises to help you get the costumes for your big Broadway show out of hock.

Are all of you taking notes on this?