Classic Films · Uncategorized

Mandalay

My recent discovery of the classic Pegu Club on a Mississippi library lounge menu brought me to this week’s film Mandalay, a stylish Pre-Code gem starring Kay Francis and directed by Michael Curtiz. Lucky for us, we don’t have to travel far to go on a cinematic journey with cocktails.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Pre-Code movies are the best. Mandalay exemplifies all the hallmarks of what I love most about these movies through Francis’s character Tanya. Left penniless by her deadbeat boyfriend at a brothel in Rangoon, Tanya is forced to work as a “hostess” to all sorts of nefarious characters. Eventually, she draws the attention of the local police, who politely suggest she board the next boat out of town and not come back. Her destination: the cool, green hills of Mandalay. But before she can get there, she meets and falls for an alcoholic doctor on the ship, who is on his own journey to a fever-ridden area just beyond the city. Unfortunately, Tanya’s ex is also on the ship, and she’s forced to do some less-than-legal things to extract herself from his web.

Circling back to the Pegu Club cocktail, this was the signature drink served at the Pegu Club in Rangoon to British officers and businessmen. I can absolutely imagine it being served at the gentleman’s club in this movie, and “Spot White” probably would have enjoyed a few in between clients and jam sessions on the piano. While watching Mandalay, I recommend drinking a classic Pegu Club cocktail.

Pegu Club

1 ½ oz Gin

¾ oz Orange Curaçao

½ oz Lime Juice

1 dash Angostura Bitters

1 dash Orange Bitters

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a chilled coupe glass.

Eventually, Tanya and the doctor decide to atone for their sins by going to the dangerous part of Mandalay together, and their fate is left up to the viewer to decide. My opinion? Hot Doc cures the fever, they live happily ever after, and Spot White wears a new Orry-Kelly gown every single day from then on. Also, giant hats. Cheers!

Classic Films

One Way Passage

I’ve died and gone to movie-cocktail heaven. This week, I had the pleasure of watching One Way Passage (Disc), a stylish drama about doomed lovers aboard an ocean liner. Made during the brief but wonderful Pre-Code Era, it features stunning gowns, a short runtime, and plentiful cocktails. We really did have everything, didn’t we?

Starring a dashing William Powell as escaped death-row inmate Dan, and Kay Francis as the terminally ill Joan, these two strangers meet at a bar in Hong Kong and share cocktails, both breaking their glasses over the bartop once they’re through (a move that was equal parts charming and horrifying to a barware collector like myself). Shortly after, Dan gets arrested and dragged onto a ship headed to San Francisco, where he reunites with Joan. They’re both on borrowed time, though neither one suspects it of the other. Dan has multiple opportunities to escape again, but he gives them all up for a chance to better know this woman who has captured his heart. As they share more classic cocktails and kisses, and Kay wears yet another fabulous Orry Kelly creation, I am equal parts excited and heartsick. Excited I found a movie that integrates cocktails so fully into a love story, and heartsick that it can seemingly only end in tragedy.

The drink ordered in this movie is the Paradise cocktail, and although the onscreen version is different from the classic recipe that appeared in Harry Craddock’s Savoy Cocktail Book in 1930, both use popular ingredients of the time period. Dan and Joan’s Hong Kong bartender is almost like a chemist, measuring out ingredients and twisting orange peels as he makes the catalyst that sets this whole story in motion. While watching One Way Passage, I recommend drinking a Paradise cocktail.

Paradise

1 ½ oz Gin

1 oz Apricot Brandy or Liqueur

2 oz Orange Juice (fresh squeezed)

Orange Twist

Chill a glass by filling with ice, and set aside. Combine gin, apricot brandy, and orange juice in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled. Dump the ice out of the glass, then strain the cocktail into it. Twist an orange peel over the cocktail to express the oils, then drop in.

I won’t ruin the ending, but let’s just say that the way barware is utilized had me grinning from ear-to-ear. This film manages to take what should have been a maudlin finale and turns it into something happy and whimsical. That’s the power of cocktails, and that’s the power of good storytelling. Cheers!