Le Paradis des mauvais garçons

Bob Mitchum and Jane Russell make for a rugged romantic duo in this crime film set in the Far East, directed by Josef Von Sternberg. In this rather light, watered down noir Russell, as a streetwise nightclub singer matches Mitchum with world weary put down after put down.

Director Von Sternberg, whose visual style of the 30's was the envy of Hollywood but had fallen on tough times and was nearing the end of his career, occasionally captures the magic that displayed Marlene Dietrich with such allure and mystery in films like Shanghai Express and Morrocco. The problem is that Dietrich and Russell are different animals. Russell has never looked more glamorous but she doesn't move like Dietrich and her singing scenes make her look a bit like Gilda on steroids. Still, there is a chemistry between her and Mitchum that keeps the film entertaining. The supporting cast offers a comically hammy turn by William Bendix and a somewhat strange, semi-comatose performance by Gloria Grahame.

Von Sternberg borrows heavily from his last good film, The Shanghai Gesture in many scenes, but Macao's main strength rests squarely on the broad shoulders of its two stars.

Cheeky, compact crime-drama in an exotic locale off the southern coast of China. Former Army Lieutenant Robert Mitchum, on the run from the law, winds up in the gambling and jewel-smuggling town of Macao without his wallet--seems pack-up-and-go lounge singer Jane Russell has fleeced him on the boat coming over from Hong Kong! Luckily, Mitchum becomes friendly with 'salesman' William Bendix, who is actually working to bring in the crime boss responsible for the death of an international police officer. Very tight and entertaining piece doesn't waste any time getting started. Some of the sloppy editing in the early stages fails to shape the scenes, but director Josef von Sternberg makes up for this with quick pacing and colorful asides. As for Russell, she's a stitch either working some very sarcastic dialogue or warbling seductive tunes down at the local gambling house. Gloria Grahame, as the boss's girl, wants Jane outta town fast--and it's easy to see why! *** from ****

Hooray, Hollywood had the good sense to pair up Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell in another movie! After the sizzling magic between them in His Kind of Woman, they made Macao, which is incredibly similar and also very entertaining.

Added into this one-which is not a sequel, by the way, even though it's similar-are two sidekicks: William Bendix always adds character to a cast, and Gloria Grahame tries to take Bob away from Jane. Sorry, Gloria, but when Jane and Bob are together, there's just no stopping them. They banter, but there's something sweet underneath it all, showing that although both stars are big and tough, they'll always find time for romance. And, since they were lifelong friends, it helps knowing they had fun filming together!

Instead of Mexico, the leads are transported to China, but there's still intrigue, mystery, action, and fun quips mixed in amongst the romance. It's hard to decide whether His Kind of Woman or Macao is better; give them a whirl and try to decide for yourself!

Josef von Sternberg began Macao (and copped the directorial credit), but Nicholas Ray finished it. Nonetheless, it abounds with Sternberg's branded flounces and fetishes. As in Shanghai Express and The Shanghai Gesture, he trowels on the Orientalism in thick impasto (Sternberg could have made the best Charlie Chan movie of them all).

A nighttime chase through the Macao docks opens the movie (to be rhymed near its conclusion): A white-suited European is pursued by knife-throwing Chinese thugs; he falls in the water when one blade finds its mark. A badge filched from him pocket shows him to be a police detective.

Into this world of Asian intrigue sails a boat from Hong Kong, just 35 miles up the coast. On it is the motley crew of salesman William Bendix, drifter Robert Mitchum and mysterious woman Jane Russell, who lifts Mitchum's wallet. Sans passport, Mitchum comes to the attention of the Macao police chief (Thomas Gomez), who reports the suspicious stranger to gambling kingpin Brad Dexter. Dexter assumes Mitchum is a cop he knows to be on his way to extradite him back to Hong Kong....

It's a playfully plotted adventure story. Russell gets a gig singing at Dexter's club in eye-popping gowns which actually aren't any more provocative than the black-and-white daytime outfits she traipses around in, wielding a parasol. She fares better than Gloria Grahame, as Dexter's moll, looking washed out and largely wasted (though she puts her distinctive spin on a couple of lines). Mitchum by this time has done this role – the lippy but laconic reluctant hero – so often he could do it in his sleep, which, given his hooded eyes, may be the truth of the matter.

Macao is an utterly shallow film done with energy and style. The plotting remains perfunctory, but the play of shadows throughout remains transfixing – especially in the set-piece near the end, again on the dark waterfront, with ropes and nets casting their creepy spell. And the movie provides Russell with one of her few opportunities to flaunt her real, if narrow, talents: in addition to the statuesque figure that caught Howard Hughes' eye, she had spunk and sass. That's what Sternberg saw, and he fell for it. We do, too.

A fast-moving tale of foreign intrigue set in the port of Macao, on the south coast of China, across the Pearl River Delta from Hong Kong. The convoluted plot involves three newcomers to the region, Robert Mitchum's ex-serviceman on the run out east on account of some domestic trouble back in New York, Jane Russell as a similarly nomadic nightclub singer, looking for a fresh start after a series of failed love affairs and William Bendix as an enthusiastic travelling salesman. However their arrival off the boat is being watched by the local chief of police, who is in the pocket of American crime-boss Brad Dexter who suspects that Mitchum is an undercover cop out to lure him beyond the three mile zone protecting him in Macao.

Dexter has a girlfriend, played by Gloria Grahame, who becomes jealous of Russell after he employs Russell as a singer, but also so that he can keep tabs on Mitchum. The plot thickens as Mitchum and Russell fall for each other, the real cop is revealed and a ploy involving stolen jewellery is instigated to bring Dexter to Hong Kong where he can finally be arrested. After an exciting foot-chase around the dark, deserted docks involving Mitchum and a couple of Dexter's knife-wielding Chinese henchmen, the denouement takes place on Dexter's boat climaxing in a roughhouse fist-fight between Dexter and Mitchum and a reconciliation between Mitchum and Russell which gives Mitchum a cheeky, risqué closing line before the end titles.

The film was a return to Hollywood film-making by Dietrich's celebrated German director of the 30's, Josef Von Sternberg, after a gap of several years and his stylised technique of lighting is evident especially in the night time scenes, although Nicholas Ray, then married to Grahame, was reportedly called in to finish the shoot after Von Sternberg was fired from the production.

The film packs a lot of plot into its eighty minute running time and still finds time to allow Russell to sing a few numbers, notably "You Kill Me" (great name for a torch song) and "One For My Baby" which Sinatra would later make his own. Mitchum and Russell bring their own respective brands of vulnerable machismo and sultry sassiness to their parts as well as the heat in their scenes together. Grahame however seems disinterested in her part but Bendix and Dexter are more convincing as the real protagonists way out east.

An enjoyably entertaining Oriental adventure, what it lacks in budget, it makes up for in style and the charisma of its two undeniably magnetic leads.