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The Lady From Shanghai is weird even by the standards of its eminent director, Orson Welles, whose last Hollywood film this was for many a moon. It's a kind of post-modern film noir made during the period when more conventional films of this type were quite popular, and it concerns a happy go lucky Irish sailor (played by Welles) who falls in with a mysterious lady (Rita Hayworth, who was married to Welles at the time), and her crippled, and probably impotent husband, played with a brainy, malevolent gusto by Everett Sloan. A long sea voyage follows, with Welles in tow as bodyguard, and the plot thickens when Sloan's law partner (Glenn Anders) turns up and starts making trouble by giving odd speeches about suicide and other morbid topics that suggest that the man is on the verge of mental breakdown. A murder plot ensues, and all sorts of calamities follow for Welles and his employers, and at this point the story, fuzzy and told at a leisurely pace thus far, goes off the deep end, and the last part of the film consists of brilliant directorial set-pieces that seem to have been thrown in to give the movie some of the drive and urgency its story does not, by itself, possess, and the result is a very watchable and often pleasing at all times incomprehensible mess.
It's hard to know what Welles was trying to do with this film aside from maybe resurrect his career in Hollywood by making a vehicle for his wife. But self-destruction intervenes, as it often does with Welles, and Miss Hayworth has never looked less fetching. That she is also cast as a femme fatale seems peculiar, as aside from her beauty her most appealing trait as a screen personality was lovableness, a quality she does not possess in this picture. The director himself is strangely unappealing and hammy at O'Hara, the (presumably) easygoing sailor, since Welles, for all his many gifts, was not known as an easy man to work with. This is a role that twenty or thirty years later Sean Connery or Robert Shaw might have been able to breath life into. Welles does not. The most interesting performance in the movie is Glenn Anders' as Grisby, Sloan's loony, treacherous law partner. Anders works wonders with the part, and is photographed to look bizarre, while his scenes end on odd, sour notes, and are often choppily edited; but for all this he manages to make Grisby's derangement palpable and disturbing, and anticipates, in a genteel way, the more flamboyant Method actors of the fifties, such as Timothy Carey.
There is a question that nags me about this film: what was Welles trying to say? He was a highly talented and intelligent man, and tended to make statements in his movies, which, whether one agrees with his world view or not, were brilliantly put forth. I think I have an answer, or a partial one: Welles was summing up his movie career. He had reached the end of his rope in the Hollywood studio system he despised, and he knew it. The Lady From Shanghai isn't exactly a nose-thumbing at the studio moguls of the day, but I suspect that it is, in its portrait of amoral, rival big shot lawyers (read: producers) expressing Welles' opinion of the power brokers of Hollywood. That he presented himself as a rootless sailor is telling. Welles himself was certainly an inveterate traveler, and he rarely lived in one place for long. He was hired by a studio to provide it with a big, prestigious film (Citizen Kane), which caused a firestorm of controversy from which he never fully recovered. This may be the issue that dares not speak its name in this film, which is to say Welles' personal failure in not getting over the shock of his newness in the movie colony, and his inability to deliver the goods, as promised. The mere fact of him turning up in Hollywood, like his mere presence in the film, could not forestall disasters well beyond his control. That he presented himself in the movie as an amiable, naive outsider shows a lack of self-knowledge on Welles' part. He was much more of an inside player than he let on, and I imagine that he despised his knowledge of the worldlier aspects of life, and himself for knowing so much.


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