Macao (1952), directed by Josef von Sternberg and then, uncredited, by Nicholas Ray, is a visually stylish but ultimately somewhat lackluster entry in the post-war film noir cycle. While it boasts a star-studded cast, striking cinematography, and a sultry atmosphere, the film feels oddly disjointed, lacking the narrative coherence and emotional depth that would have elevated it to a truly memorable work. It’s a movie that hints at intrigue but often settles for a more generic level of crime-thriller.
The plot, set in the exotic Portuguese colony of Macao, follows Nick Cochran (Robert Mitchum), an American adventurer who arrives in the city on the run from the law. He soon finds himself caught in a web of deceit involving a glamorous nightclub singer, Margie (Jane Russell), a ruthless gangster, Halloran (Brad Dexter), and a corrupt cop, Inspector Braga (Thomas Gomez). Each character seems to be playing their own angles, leading to a series of double-crosses and betrayals. While the film implies a complex interplay between the characters, the narrative is ultimately quite straightforward, lacking the psychological intricacies of the finest noirs.
The primary draw of Macao is its visual style. Von Sternberg, a master of creating evocative atmospheres, imbues the film with a sense of exoticism and danger. The dimly lit back alleys, smoky casinos, and bustling marketplaces of Macao are beautifully captured by cinematographer Harry J. Wild, whose work is a definite highlight of the film. The costumes and set designs, with their elaborate details and rich colors, further enhance the film’s visual appeal. The visual flair is undeniable, and for the time it had a level of gloss that many other noirs of the period did not reach.
However, the film’s narrative lacks the same level of sophistication. The plot feels rather generic, relying on familiar noir tropes without adding any significant twists or originality. The characters, while well-acted, are ultimately underdeveloped and somewhat predictable. Mitchum, as usual, exudes a cool, laid-back charm, and Russell brings a sultry allure to her role as the nightclub singer. However, the chemistry between the two is surprisingly muted, and the film fails to create any significant tension or emotional investment in their relationship. This is largely due to the uneven tone and the lack of direction that likely occurred with the change of directors, causing a loss in narrative consistency.
The film’s production was tumultuous, with Josef von Sternberg being replaced by Nicholas Ray mid-shoot. This change in direction is noticeable in the film’s inconsistent pacing and tone, with the first half, under Sternberg, seeming more artfully composed than the more straightforward and action-oriented second half. The abrupt shifts in focus do hamper the narrative flow and suggest why, although well-known, the film has never risen to a classic status.
