Passion sous les tropiques

When characters in a film get into a cable car, you know it's only a matter of time before PING! the cable snaps. Strand by strand, of course, for maximum

tension (ha ha). Mitchum the boxer and Darnell the ex-moll on the run take

the fateful cable car up to a little Mexican hilltop town whose inhabitants have created a totally cardboard experience for tourists. The architecture is

"hacienda style" and lady guests can buy pseudo flamenco costumes in the

"vibrant, bustling" street market. Any Mexican not employed in the hotel,

selling peasant tat, or playing unctuous Mariachi music is out in the plaza

waving a balloon and shouting for joy, or performing a sinuous dance of no

particular origin. It reminds me of the many embarrassing ads on British TV

featuring funny Europeans. Then the main cast members climb aboard that

cable car and it becomes a lifeboat movie and you can write the script

yourself. Two cheers, though, for the feisty British middle-aged couple ("My

wife can help - she was a nurse's aide in London during the Blitz!").

Mitchum is brilliant as usual but Darnell is a little clumsy in the love scenes and speaks as though she was dubbing her lines.