Macao (1952)

Directed by Josef Von Sternberg (and Nicholas Ray). Written by Stanley Rubin and Bernard C. Schoenfeld

A sizzling duet of Jane Russell and Robert Mitchum does just enough to save an otherwise straightforward affair set in (the sound studio version of) Macao, where a rambling American ex-soldier gets caught up in a police operation to bring a known gangster to justice. Also stuck in the ordeal: a pickpocket and nightclub singer. 

Jane Russell is Julie Benton, the singer in question. From the very moment she appears, Julia turns men into idiots, and it’s to Russell’s credit. While Russell’s beauty speaks for itself, her resilience and self-determination makes for something more formidable. She doesn’t exactly act aloof, Julie’s too engaged in any interaction as a petty hustler for that to be the case, but you also know no one’s ever at an advantage with her. She’s like a switchblade.

Sternberg knows this, and doesn’t want to look away from Russell for too long. He even adds two whole musical numbers that do little to progress the story where Julie just sings a song from beginning to end and a fade to black resumes the action, but you don’t even second-guess him. It’s Jane Russell up there. 

You need someone formidable to match Russell’s star-wattage, and that’s Robert Mitchum, a likewise enigmatic leading man who inspires confidence even while possessing a certain unpredictability and danger. He plays Nick Cochran, and Sternberg establishes his tough guy credentials by having him punch someone so hard in the stomach it knocks the victim out cold. He balances capable with unsuspecting well as Cochran gets in over his head. 

Mitchum and Russell then twirl through a quite linear and unengaging story. Brad Dexter plays Vincent Halloran, casino owner and criminal kingpin, who suspects Mitchum’s character to be a cop, but his waning charisma in the role leaves Halloran less of an antagonist than a traffic cone for the story to knock over as it swings by. With him at the other end of this narrative tightrope, the entire movie feels slack and you’re just waiting for Russell and Mitchum to share the screen for most of it.
   
Macao as a whole is a by-the-numbers production of its time, but the handiwork can’t be faulted. Even if it’s unremarkable, it still provides some spills and thrills, including a gripping chase through Macao’s dense alleys and across its rooftops. Add to that some fist fights and an expected romance and you’re not in poor company for 80 minutes.