Orson Welles always strikes me as being like an excessively precocious child, always so desperate to impress the adults.  He may have been highly intelligent, but something about his body of work consistently left me with the impression he was insecure.  His arrogance only reinforces my belief.

I present as evidence 1947’s The Lady from Shanghai, a weird noir that is nearly as convoluted as its legendarily troubled shoot.  That Welles is synonymous with “troubled productions” is one of the reasons for my feelings towards the man.

It couldn’t have helped he stars with Rita Hayworth, as they were in the midst of divorcing at the time.  I would say that explains the lack of chemistry between them, but it is more like an active repulsion.  There doesn’t seem to be a reason for Welles to supposedly be infatuated with her.

That obsession begins with the first scene, where she is in a horse-drawn carriage and he, just passing by, offers her a cigarette.  She says she doesn’t smoke, and rides on.  Then he comes to her rescue as she is attacked by three men, one of whom may be the carriage driver.  Funny, but I wasn’t sure.  But, if one of them was the driver, that’s just another reason why you should always tip.

And I’m not even sure why she was taking a horse-drawn carriage, as the film takes place in what was then the present day.  Welles even walks her to a parking garage and it is from there she drives away.  We’re scant minutes into the runtime, and I’m already asking too many questions.  Then it is revealed Welles is in cahoots with the guys who jumped her, leaving us to wonder what his scam was.

Then the film doesn’t bother following that potential thread, as he is roped into a plot to kill somebody, though the picture seems to constantly change which character it wants killed.  I have to admit this may the first picture I have seen where such a typically straight-forward element of a plot took so long to be resolved.  At least the picture knows somebody has to die, goddammit, and it is going to make sure Welles is the fall guy.

Most of the action takes place on a yacht sailing around the eastern US, through the Panama Canal and then up to San Francisco.  Welles has been roped into manning the boat by Everett Sloane, playing the wealthy husband of Hayworth.  It is obvious from the get-go something is amiss with this offer, and Sloane spends most of the time ironically addressing her as “my love” and nearly forcing Welles to get pally with her.  Admittedly, it could just be the character is miserable, as he has leg braces I assume are from a bout with polio.  He is also a criminal lawyer with a perfect record.  At one point, he tells Welles to give him a call if he ever needs a lawyer, which just might factor into the plot later.

There is a general vibe of something being amiss the entire time, and I appreciated that.  One element which intrigued me is at least two characters are men Welles says he saw earlier in New York.  Both deny ever having met him before, and quickly give stories claiming to be somebody else.  One of these guys, Glenn Anders, is first seen rowing a dinghy up to the yacht as if he materialized out of nowhere.  It reminded me of the curious characters in Mamet’s The Spanish Prisoner who appear and disappear as mysteriously.

Anders steals every scene he’s in, which is quite an accomplish when you’re trying to hold your own while in the same frame as Welles.  He has an incredibly grating voice and an even more abrasive friendliness that is so obviously fake as to be downright confrontational.  Every single word he spews is so obsequious as to clearly convey the intended sarcasm.  When he asks Welles to kill him, and will give him $5000 to so, I loudly announced I would do the job for free.

For you see, Andres only wants to be dead on paper.  He wants to fake his death and spend the rest of his days on a tropical isle.  Andres writes a confession for Welles to sign, which is supposed to be his insurance the latter will stick to this bargain.  Inexplicably, the latter goes along with this scheme. 

And that is part of the problem with this film: I refused to believe any of these characters would do any of the things they do.  It might have helped if those characters had been closer to real human beings.

Then there’s the dialog.  I love nothing more than when clever lines are put into character’s mouths, but almost every line here scans as too artificial.  Much like how I regard Welles in general, these lines seem to think they are more clever than they really are.  Consider this: “I have always found it very sanitary to be broke.”  Now, that scans as intelligent, but it doesn’t seem so much on closer inspection.  Then, there’s this: “That’s the first time anyone ever thought enough of you to all call you a shark.  If you were a lawyer, you’d be flattered.”  I thought that was pretty smart when I was watching the film, then I re-read the quote and I’m not so sure anymore.

Typical of a Welles picture, it has all kinds of clever cameras and shot compositions, though I dare say that is to the film’s detriment in this case.  Some of the shots only call attention to themselves, such as an overhead tracking shot of a prone Hayworth relaxing on the yacht at night.  I see many critics have sprayed their shorts over the famous climatic shootout in a house of mirrors.  I’m sure filming that was a logistical nightmare, but it feels way too showy.  Also, I get the metaphor about duplicitousness without the scene playing out for as long as it does. 

Conversely, it is weird how cheap some of the picture looks, especially in San Francisco.  There are way too many shots of the Golden Gate in what is obviously a still image.  There was also a brief moment during the ocean crossing where what I suspect is a paper cutout of the yacht sails across very still waters.

The Lady from Shanghai is a curio, a noir that reads to me like Welles felt the genre was beneath him.  Much like the man himself, the characters just keep talking and talking and talking, as if the burden is on us to mine nuggets of wisdom from the torrent.  The plot is convoluted enough to feel as if it is an intricate clockwork mechanism though it turns out to be not that complex on retrospection.  At least, I would have been more engaged in it if I believed any of the characters would have made any of the decisions they do here.

Directed, no production, by Orson Welles. See what I mean about his inherent pretentiousness?

Starring Rita Hayworth, Orson Welles, Everett Sloane

Watched on Mill Creek blu-ray