n the British Crown colony of Hong Kong in 1949, an ambulance rushes to the hospital, carrying a young girl who was hit by a motorcar. Eurasian (half English, half Chinese) Dr. Han Suyin (Jennifer Jones) consults a fellow surgeon looking after the child, before running into a former patient, whose husband is now ill. Embarrassingly, this acquaintance’s pennilessness coerces her to negotiate the sale of their little boy to pay for the medical bills – though Han will have none of that nonsense. To get away from the stresses of her work, Suyin joins a colleague (Murray Matheson) at a lavish party that evening. It’s at that gathering that she meets newspaperman (or correspondent) Mark Elliot (William Holden), whom she determines is not the sort of man she’d be interested in, though she’s not opposed to going out to dinner with him.

“I doubt if he’ll call anyhow.” Although she attempts to convince herself that she’s only focused on medicine at this point in her life, Han is clearly amused by her new companion. She’s superstitious and points out good omens continually, while Mark is pragmatic and scientific (though he mentions that they’re destined to be together). But he happens to be married. Fortunately, the doctor’s busy schedule, full of politics within the hospital, fussy elitists, and overcrowding from refugees fleeing from China, distracts her from being too doting.

As anticipated, the two begin seeing a lot more of each other, lending to some beautiful cinematography and numerous scenarios of hopeless romanticism – from dinner dates to swims in the bay to dancing in the moonlight. Han’s interpretation of a platonic relationship swiftly transforms into a classic Hollywood coupling, even though she believes that dating is harmless by itself, as long as she can remain emotionally distant. “I think I’m in love with you,” admits Mark. Of course, she’s quite unable to maintain that distance, falling head over heels for the calm, gentle, suave American reporter. When an urgent cable from her uncle calls her back to Chungking, China, Suyin believes it will provide an opportunity to spend time away from Mark – and to test the strength of her feelings for him.

“To go on living, one must occasionally be unwise.” There’s a persistent undercurrent of racism, as well as commentary on the difficulties of identity for people with mixed parentage – especially during historical periods of unrest between nations. Mark is a spectator, seemingly without skin in the game; Han, however, is deeply involved with the notion of reputation (disgracing family by associating with foreigners) and customs, along with the politics of having two nationalities (including the preferred nomenclature of “Eurasian”). The plot shares a number of similarities with “Sayonara,” “Giant,” and “Gentleman’s Agreement,” while the biographical components (based on the novel “A Many-Splendored Thing” by the real Han Suyin) draw further parallels to all the “Romeo and Juliet” stories that feature lovers who are torn between happiness and societal expectations.

“I’m so happy it frightens me.” The film is sentimental at times (and heavy-handed with its messages at others, vocalized too often by Dr. Sen [Kam Tong]), but even the most maudlin dialogue is well-delivered by the sensational, always-composed Jones. She has an expert way of conveying intelligence and restrained emotions, while still being genial and genuine (and sexy). As Suyin and Mark contend with other people’s definitions of contentment, as well as the psychological significance of a marriage certificate and the meaninglessness of paperwork across borders, they must also face the onset of the Korean War, which brings with it even greater xenophobic fears and intolerance. Still, the romance is striking, concluding with a famously tragic yet poetic and powerful scene.

– Mike Massie