Macao, l'enfer du jeu (1939)
Directed by Jean Delannoy

Film Review

Macao, l'enfer du jeu was the first great film to be directed by Jean Delannoy, one of the main architects of what would contemptuously be dubbed by critic François Truffaut la tradition de qualité of French cinema.  Delannoy may not have been a groundbreaking auteur but he was an extremely accomplished filmmaker who prided himself on making quality films with enormous mainstream appeal.  He was also one of France's most versatile film directors, his work encompassing a remarkably wide range of genres which include grand historical dramas such as Marie-Antoinette reine de France (1956) and off-beat fantasies like Les Jeux sont faits (1947).  Macao, l'enfer du jeu is one of Delannoy's most inspired films, a slick (albeit slightly tongue-in-cheek) mix of melodrama and adventure that prefigures American film noir, in both its style and subject matter.   Josef von Sternberg's The Shanghai Gesture (1941) offers a similarly brooding portrayal of decadence and deadly double-dealing in the Orient, but Delannoy's film has the edge, with a stronger cast and far greater visual impact.

The first thing to say about Macao, l'enfer du jeu is that it boasts the most extraordinary ensemble of acting talent.  Supremely well-cast as the main villain is Sessue Hayakawa, a distinguished Japanese actor who first found fame in Hollywood in the silent era; his appearance in Cecil B. DeMille's The Cheat (1915) had made him as big a star as Rudolph Valentino.  As his career in America waned in the early 1930s, Hayakawa made a few films in Japan before settling in France for a few years, finding success in films such as Max Ophüls's Yoshiwara (1937) and Marcel L'Herbier's Forfaiture (1937).  Whilst Hayakawa is best known today for his role as Colonel Saito in David Lean's The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), he was most adept at playing suave, womanising fiends, of the kind he portrays so effortlessly in Macao, l'enfer du jeu.  In contrast to many of the roles Hayakawa was saddled with in this phase of his career, the part of Ying Tchaï is far from being your stereotypical Asian villain - he is a complex, well-developed character, outwardly cool and deadly, inwardly brittle and sensitive, and no actor could have portrayed him quite so convincingly as Sessue Hayakawa at the height of his dramatic powers.

The other legendary figure to illuminate the cast-list is Erich von Stroheim, a once great filmmaker (one of Hollywood's finest) now forced to earn his crust as an actor, living in exile in France and speaking lines that he had difficulty understanding.  After his leading role in Jean Renoir's La Grande illusion (1937), Von Stroheim became a highly sought after actor in France, his aristocratic bearing, combined with a gentle temperament that belied his intimidating physical appearance, making him ideal for the role of contradictory outsiders.  The part of Krall, a self-destructive gunrunner, looks as if it may have been created specifically for Von Stroheim, so perfectly does it match his on-screen persona and exploit his talent for playing deeply flawed characters who are redeemed by their humanity.  During the Occupation, Von Stroheim's appearance in French films was strictly forbidden by the German censor, on account of his outspoken criticism of the Nazis.  Consequently, Macao, l'enfer du jeu was re-issued in 1942, with all of Von Stroheim's scenes reshot with another actor, Pierre Renoir.  Fortunately, the original 1939 film was preserved and is the one that is most widely available today. 

The film's other big name actor may not have enjoyed quite the longevity of her two male co-stars, but she was an even bigger star when the film was made.  Mireille Balin was one of the most prominent French actresses of her time, perfectly suited for the role of the exotic femme fatale, demonstrated by her unforgettable appearances alongside Jean Gabin in Pépé le Moko (1937) and Gueule d'amour (1937).  Balin was not only stunningly beautiful, she also had a particular aptitude for investing her screen portrayals with a seedy sensuality, femininity at its deadliest.  Rarely did she get to play sympathetic characters, but few spectators could resist her mesmeric charms.   Paired with Sessue Hayakawa, someone of comparable allure and charisma, Balin is at her seductive best and the celluloid almost ignites when the two actors are brought together in a scene of memorable sultriness and dark erotic power.

One of the finest examples of French film noir, Macao, l'enfer du jeu is distinguished not only by its compelling performances but also by its well-constructed screenplay, skilful direction and exceptional production values. The sets provide an impressive reconstruction of the gambling port of Macao, complete with a bustling casino, crowded narrow streets, and authentic-looking Chinese décor, all drenched in sinister shadows harbouring menace and murderous intent.  The film's spectacular climax allows for some suitably grandiose camerawork which shows us the full extent of Ying Tchaï's despair as his evil empire collapses about him.  Jean Delannoy would later return to the film noir crime genre, most notably in Maigret tend un piège (1958), but Macao, l'enfer du jeu remains his stylistic highpoint, one of his few real masterpieces and a true classic of French cinema.

Film Synopsis

In the late 1930s, China and Japan are locked in a fierce military conflict.  Mireille, a French actress, is one of many hundreds of westerners who are desperately seeking a safe way out of war-torn China.  Others, such as the German gunrunner Werner von Krall, hope to make a profit from the escalating crisis.  Krall offers Mireille passage to Macao, the Chinese city that is considered a pleasure heaven by westerners, aboard his yacht; although she is suspicious of Krall's motives, the actress has no option but to accept.  Krall's visit to Macao is strictly a matter of business, to purchase a consignment of arms from Ying Tchaï, an illicit weapons trader who also runs the city's biggest gambling joint, Eldorado.  When Krall gambles away the money intended for the purchase of arms, Mireille comes to his rescue by accepting Ying Tchaï's invitation to a private rendez-vous.  Realising he has been duped, Ying Tchaï instructs his henchmen to attack Krall's yacht, but the German manages to escape with Mireille.  Krall is delighted when he discovers that Ying Tchaï's daughter Jasmine has found her way onto his yacht, helped aboard by her boyfriend journalist.  Ying Tchaï has no choice but to supply Krall with his weapons in exchange for Jasmine's life.  However, fate has one final cruel twist in store for everyone...