The Lady From Shanghai (1947)

The Lady From Shanghai is a mess of a movie that has its virtues all the same. Its edgy; and the nervous feeling pacing sets it apart from most other Noir films of its era, as does its location shooting. In its second half, by which time the story still hasn't come to make much sense, the movie begins to veer off into surrealism. It's watchable but no longer dramatic, as its characters have become caricatures (and there's still more to come). None of this is the fault of the actors.

The actors are in top form; while the rather grotesque looking supporting players outshine the two glamorous leads; and as time moves on their bodies, faces and voices, especially those of Glenn Anders as the unhinged attorney, Grisby, come to define performances rather than tell us something about the characters being portrayed. This is a movie Brueghel might have made had Brueghel lived long enough to direct movies.

The Lady From Shanghai is something to see and to experience; however it does not, as I see it, offer much to ponder. Its virtues, which are considerable, are visual and aural; narrative is is nearly beyond comprehension; and the story jumps all over the place. There's much dynamism and energy in the film; and in its best scenes it draws the viewer in with the force of a tornado. Yet for all the clanging about it never seems to make much dramatic sense, as it comes to feel increasingly abstract, near pointless; and all without losing its head of steam