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The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947) 🇺🇸
The impression we get is of a ballroom scene, endlessly repeated in an enigmatic interplay of mirrors. His hand placed firmly on her bare back, the man leads his partner (the marvellous Rita Hayworth) in a dizzying dance of death. They have played the game right to the bitter end, but it is almost midnight – the moment of truth is nigh! – and he holds her tight. Will he manage to see what exactly lays hidden on the other side of the mirror?
Singapore (John Brahm, 1947) 🇺🇸
Sin-ga-pore: three highly evocative syllables we see here adorning the bright yellow diaphanous folds of a film star’s gown. How many adventurers, priests, crooks and smugglers have gone there to lose themselves – only to find themselves? The choppy waters of its port teem with junks, sails unfurled, yoke carriers struggling to make their way through the ballet of rickshaws, the mysterious gleam of gazes hidden by deftly wielded parasols, an enticing scene that lures and misleads the traveller.
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