Flicker Alley / Lobster's Bluray release: The King of Kings (1927/28)

This content was originally posted at the South West Silents website.
I was provided with a copy of this set for the purposes of reviewing it.

More than 20 years after its Criterion DVD release, Cecil B. DeMille's monumental biblical epic The King of Kings (1927) has finally received an English language Blu-ray release courtesy of Flicker Alley and Blackhawk films. It's a lush two-disc set which comes with two different cuts of the freshly-restored film, a 28-page booklet and a host of extras.

The film

While DeMille is mainly remembered these days for his historical epics, only one of the fifty films he had made before taking on The King of Kings had been biblical (The Ten Commandments, 1923): he was known mainly for westerns and melodramas. Nevertheless The King of Kings is one of the silent era's crowning achievements, as the Jesus story is told in the midst of huge back drops, impressive costumes and, of the obligatory cast of thousands. If the portrayal of Jesus is a little paternalistic and some of the soft-focus lighting seems a little twee by today's standards, H.B. Warner's portrayal of Jesus was fairly ground-breaking in its day for its tougher, more human portrayal of the man from Nazareth.

Starting in the middle of Jesus' ministry, the film sets out its stall from the off. A glamorous courtesan, Mary Magdalene reclines in her opulent villa surrounded by a glut of rich and powerful admirers. When she enquires about her lover, one Judas Iscariot, she is infuriated to hear that he has transferred his attentions to a simple carpenter. Thus DeMille sets out his stall from the very beginning, laying out what would become his trademark style: a mix of sex and piety that gave audiences what they wanted and then lectured them lest they enjoyed it too much. Mary's more flamboyant side is soon subsumed under a black cloak, her coiled, gold bra never to return again.

Meanwhile Jesus shores up support from those both outside Jerusalem and within with miracles, wise words and occasionally saving a slut-shamed women, all of which infuriate the Jewish high priest, Caiaphas. When persuades Judas to betray him, Jesus' fate appears sealed.

At the time it was made, the film was the most expensive film Hollywood had made, and despite never receiving a version with spoken dialogue, it remained popular with audiences long into the sound era.

The discs

There are two Blu-ray discs both of which feature newly restored versions of the film and are multi-region encoded (i.e. region free). The contents are as follows:

Disc 1

1927 Roadshow version of the film (161 mins*; 1.33:1 ratio) with an audio commentary by film historian Marc Wanamaker. New orchestral score updating and extending Hugo Riesenfeld's 1928 score, composed and updated by Robert Israel and available in both stereo and 5.1 Surround Sound.

Disc 2

1928 general release reconstruction (115 mins*, 1.33:1 ratio)
Two Scores for the 1928 General Release - Hugo Riesenfeld's original orchestral score and an organ score by Christian Elliott.
Substantial range of extra features.

I'll discuss the extra features in a little more detail below, but first some comparison of these two versions of The King of Kings is in order.

The cuts

There now a few versions of this film available on DVD (not to mention various editions on YouTube and other streaming sites) largely due to the fact that at the time several different versions of the film were released. The longest cut was the "Roadshow version" which is the one shown at the film's premier in New York in 1927. But the film received complaints from various Jewish groups who were concerned it blamed the Jews for the crucifixion and were unhappy with the portrayal of the high priest Caiaphas. So, early in 1928, DeMille recut the film to take their views into consideration.

But things were moving quickly on another front, with the advent of the sound era. An even shorter third cut of the film was made for general release, and while the dialogue remained silent, a variety of sound effects were added, such as the howling winds that accompanied the moments following Jesus' death.

It was this shorter 'General Release' version (around 115 minutes) that was released on VHS in 1997 and has been released several times since, including a UK version in 2006 by Home Entertainment.

However, in 2004, Criterion released a 2-disc set including both this shorter 1928 cut of the film and the original Roadshow version (they gave the running lengths as 112 minutes and 155 minutes respectively). The Criterion discs also featured coloured footage for the resurrection scene (both discs) and the opening scene for the Roadshow version.

Flicker Alley's new release offers two versions of the film both on Blu-ray. While these broadly correspond to the two versions in the Criterion edition, there are substantial differences. So I thought it would be useful to highlight the differences between Flicker Alley's edition of the longer Roadshow version with the Criterion edition and also to discuss the differences between the two Flicker Alley discs themselves.

1927 Roadshow: Flicker-Alley Blu-ray vs 1927 Criterion DVD

Clearly the biggest difference between the two editions here is that Flicker Alley's restoration is on Blu-ray and, as you'd expect, the HD delivers a substantial improvement.

However, there are also key differences with the colouring of the film. While the Criterion disc was the first to offer both the resurrection scene and the opening scenes in its original Technicolor, the rest of the presentation is in black and white. However, we know from fragments of the original reels that the other scenes were colour-toned. It was only when the synchronised sound track was introduced that the toned footage was changed to black and white.

The Technicolor scenes are a remarkable improvement on those in the Criterion edition. Criterion's images looked too green, whereas Flicker Alley have used the original technique of adding a yellow tint into the mix. This combined with another alterations results colours that are both more natural and more vibrant. The red dress worn by Jesus' mother during the resurrection is particularly striking.

The comparison between the toned sections and Criterion's plain black and white will be more down to personal preference.. At first sepia is used, with the occasional hint of orange and this runs until the Garden of Gethsemane/night before Jesus' death, which uses blue as was customary for night-time scenes. There's a return to sepia for the trial scenes before switching to yellow for the crucifixion scenes. The final scene – after the Technicolor resurrection – reverts back to sepia.

Personally I adore the blue, but I'm unconvinced by the yellow crucifixion, which might be my least favourite aspect of the set as a whole. It is authentic, though, so that's between Mr DeMille and me. As to the sepia sections, my preference for them over the black and white is on a more shot by shot basis so it's nice for completists to have both available.

Strikingly, the new edition also contains a third type of colour, hand-painted colour. This was something DeMille originally commissioned Gustav Brock to do in the scenes featuring soldiers in the blue-toned sequence. The flames of their torches were hand-coloured. It was something that had to be done on each individual print and so we have no idea how many prints were altered like this, aside from that which was shown at the premieré. Almost as painstaking was the modern process which has re-added this colour into these scenes. The results are pretty spectacular. This is partly because of the contrast between the calming blue that otherwise fills the screen and the small intense bursts of flame dotted across the canvas. But it's also partly because the unnaturalness of these colours gives them an expressionistic edge.

Those who love scanning the details of different releases may have noticed that whereas the Criterion edition claims to be 155 minutes, the length of the new edition is given as 161 minutes. Alas, this does not really signify the addition of new material in the Flicker Alley release. For one thing, Criterion understated the length of their edition which actually comes in at 157m26s. In contrast, Flicker Alley rounded up their 160m56s run-time (quite understandably).

The remaining 3m30s is largely due to a bit more information in the opening titles before the film starts and the addition of modern-style credits sequence at the end. Some sequences run a tiny bit slower in the Flicker Alley cut (see below). The only new material, therefore, is the inclusion of an "Intermission" intertitle, followed by one announcing "The King of Kings II".

Flicker Alley's Blu-rays: 1927 Roadshow version vs 1928 General Release version

There are substantial differences between the two version of the film in this collection. The most obvious one is the 46 minute difference in running time. The first reason for this is that the 1927 Roadshow version includes a number of additional scenes which were completely cut in the version released the following year. The most notable scenes omitted are Judas failing to heal a boy with a demon, the call of Matthew, and the miracle of Peter finding a fish with a coin in its mouth.

However, the abridged version from 1928 also shortens may of those scenes it does retain. There are extra shots of leopards here, Caiaphas fondling Roman coins there, with the later being one of the more obvious cuts made to exorcise the film of antisemitic content. The longer scenes give a broader sense of Jesus' life outside of Jerusalem and of characters such as Mary the mother of Jesus, who co-witnesses the resurrection in the longer version, but is pretty much reduced to an early walk-on role in the later version. But it's also noticeable that the order of these scenes, or shots within the scenes, is different too. The woman accused of adultery is introduced much earlier into the story, for example.

Other differences are more visual. Perhaps the most significant difference is that – apart from the resurrection scene – the General Release version is all in black and white. It uses different intertitles in places and occasionally puts them in a different part of a sequence. The cropping and screen ratio is the same, however (even though the silent Roadshow version would have had a taller frame than the General Release version, due the space required on the frame for the synchronised soundtrack).

The commentary

Having recorded a solo commentary track for a Jesus film, I'm all too aware of the challenge of coming up with sufficient material to maintain interest for two-plus hours. Wanamaker is certainly up to the task, providing commentary from a variety of perspectives. He produces all kinds of fascinating details about the making of this epic production such as DeMille choosing to shoot a scene on the Mount of Olives in an olive grove in his neighbourhood; him keeping the great gates from Pilate's villas for his own house, or the use of a hidden bicycle seat for H.B. Warner to perch on while shooting the crucifixion.

While it's at it's best when Wanamaker is giving the details around the production, at other times the commentary falls back onto simply describing the basics of the plot, or the primary action on screen. Occasionally it offers some more theologically inclined reflection, but it's at a fairly elementary level. Moreover, there is perhaps a little too much willingness to accept at face value DeMille's claims about the depths of his team's research. These parts can be very interesting, but they are not necessarily an accurate reflection of what scholars know about the history of the actual events and their context, partly because so much more has been uncovered since the film was made. Nevertheless Wanamaker's insights as Film Historian prove useful throughout.

The extra features

The extra features are great in this set, not least because Lobster Films' Serge Bromberg voices several of the more technical ones.

Top billing goes to "The Making of The King of Kings" which provides 21 minutes of footage behind the scenes of the film. There's an optional commentary on these candid shots, provided again by Marc Wanamaker.

"The King of Kings Set Visit" is fairly similar to the above, but features various members of the film industry touring the set during production. These are primarily producers rather than stars, so this material is a little more stiff. Similarly "Footage from the film's premiere in Germany" is interesting if you like people watching – and there are some real moments where you feel like you connect with ordinary faces from the past –but this won't be to everyone's taste.

In quite a different vein is "Pathé Week on Broadway". This is a promotional animated short from 1927 that officially announces the release of the film, as well as several others being distributed by the recently formed Pathé-DeMille company. Shot in the style of Paul Terry, whose studio had recently joined Pathé-DeMille, the intention seems to have been to promote not just The King of Kings but also their other films, that were all showing on Broadway in a single week. It has moments of both intentional and unintentional humour: the latter exemplified by a group of cartoon chickens starring at a poster for what feels like minutes, a poster which just happens to be announcing all the locations where these films would be appearing. It's fascinating as an insight into the period and the unconventional ways that filmmakers sought to get attention, not least because it's difficult to imagine Mel Gibson using a brood of hand-drawn poultry to promote his sequel to The Passion of the Christ.

"Negative A / Negative B" is the first of the three Bromberg featurettes which tackle more technical matters surrounding the original film, practices at the time, and the restoration process that he has overseen. This first mini-documentary explores the filming process that led to multiple negatives, namely the use of multiple similarly located cameras, simultaneously filming the same action from three different locations. It includes a little of the behind-the-scenes footage from "The Making of The King of Kings" featurette which shows three cameraman in tandem, hand-cranking their cameras. This also seems to explain why different versions of the film seem to go faster and slower relatively to each other when watched side by side.

Naturally, given the film's pioneering use of Technicolor, the extras includes an exploration of the process that produced the movie's colour scenes. "Technicolor" is short but incredibly insightful, though I feel I may need to rewatch it to grasp it all fully. Bromberg again provides the voiceover.

Finally "Hand Coloring onto the Film" which looks at those scenes of the soldiers arresting Jesus and the process of colourising their flames individually. It's quite an insight into both the historical process of hand-colouring as well as the methodology and philosophy around restoring these scenes to how they would once have looked.

The set also features three photo galleries. The largest of these holds almost a hundred production stills, everything from the building of the set to photographs of mass being celebrated on location. Then there is what is called a "portrait gallery" featuring 26 images, although these are better described as promotional stills. Many of these are of single characters (including most of the disciples) posing in costume against plain backgrounds, though curiously Peter and Jesus are not included. Thirdly, there are 49 images of the film playing in various theatres.

The final extra feature is the full text of a Variety article announcing the changes DeMille was making due to the concerns of the Jewish Anti-Defamation League. It's interesting just how willing DeMille appears to have been to accommodate the ADL's feedback, to the extent that they were fully satisfied he had met their demands. The ADL's concerns were particularly driven by how the film might be received in other territories and it's striking to see these sentiments expressed so close to footage of the film opening apparently unhindered in inter-war Germany just as Hitler was coming to prominence.

The booklet

A 28-page booklet comes with the set and features: an introduction by Bromberg; a little more detail about the three different cuts of the film; an article DeMille wrote for the June 1927 issue of Theatre titled "The Screen as a Religious Teacher"; some details about the restoration of the film; and "Some Notes on Robert Israel's Score". These nicely complement the extra features on disc two, and include a few further images.

The set also comes with a reversible Blu-ray case sleeve giving two artwork options. The first features a newly designed cover based on a sketch of H.B. Warner's Jesus by fellow actor H. Montagu Love. Love played a centurion in the movie and starred in numerous epics during his 173-movie career. The other option is with the same monochrome silhouette as the Criterion DVD release. In my opinion, it would've been nice to have at least one option that used an image from the film itself, but perhaps I'm in the minority on that.

The verdict

Flicker Alley's Blu-ray release of DeMille's The King of Kings (1927 & 1928) is most welcome. It's great to have this important film not only transferred to HD format but also to have received the attention and care it deserves. The effort taken with the longer original Roadshow version (1927) to not only restore existing prints, but also to ensure the film was returned to how it was originally intended to be seen, is considerable and much appreciated, as is the new 5.1 Surround Sound score. Likewise it's good to have the shorter General Release version from 1928 available on Blu-ray as well especially with a choice of scores.

On top of these two restorations, Flicker Alley have also assembled a great and varied selection of extra features, a good commentary and an interesting booklet, meaning that the vast majority will not only learn about this film, but also about the silent era in general.

An Introduction to The King of Kings

Last week I had the pleasure of introducing Lobster films' new restoration of The King of Kings (1927) at its UK premieré in Bristol Cathedral, courtesy of South West Silents. As it was only a short intro, I thought I'd post it here to supplement my other posts and my podcast on the film.

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Whenever I come to these kinds of events I'm always intrigued as to what specifically attracts people to them. Are we film fans? People of faith? Both? Have we come because of our love of music? Or for something else? It's kind of ambiguity that cuts to the heart of Cecil B DeMille. He could oil up Charlton Heston, put him in chains and tell you that that was Moses, or begin his film about Christ with a woman in a gold coil bra stroking her pet leopard.

It's easy to deride DeMille's mix of titillation and piety, or see them as being cynical, but for him the combination was very real. As Fritzi Kramer puts it:

DeMille is an almost perfect split between his flamboyant actress mother and his bookish lay minister father... DeMille's religious beliefs were not exactly in the mainstream but they were from the heart. The conflict between faith and trash was very real for him. He loved both.

Indeed DeMille was critical of those who proposed more staid portrayals of the Gospels, arguing that "they must have read them through the stained glass telescope which centuries of tradition and form have put between us and the men and women of flesh and blood who lived and wrote the Bible."

We tend to think of cinema's silent era as time of beginnings, but in fact by 1927 when The Kings of Kings was released it had been around for quite some time. The first Jesus films came out in 1897, meaning they had been making them for 30 years by the time The King of Kings came along. It was DeMille's 51st film, and incredibly whilst today his name is synonymous with the biblical epic, at this point in time he was known mainly for melodramas and westerns. Only one of his previous 50 films had been biblical.

The film itself was written by one of DeMille's most trusted collaborators, Jeanie MacPherson. In contrast with the majority of Jesus films both before, and, indeed, after, it starts neither with Jesus birth, nor his baptism, nor even at the beginning of Holy Week, but instead it begins as Jesus' ministry is already in full flow. In that sense it's different from any of the Gospels, or the earliest creedal confessions found about him in Paul. As a whole the film blends elements of all four gospels together citing each in the various subtitles, though often wildly out of context. It opens quoting its role in the Great Commission from Matthew's Gospel, focuses its portrayal of Jesus as the healer of Luke's Gospel, whilst its lighting emphasises John's "Light of the World" and it depicts a young boy called Mark, with the implication that it is he who will go on to write the earliest gospel. Our first sighting of Jesus is a famous shot which I won't spoil for those of you who don't know it, but is paired with its opposite at the end of DeMille's Samson and Delilah 22 years later.

Another DeMille regular was H.B. Warner who played Jesus here, Mr Gower in It's a Wonderful Life. At 51 he remains the oldest actor to play the lead in a mainstream Jesus film, considerably older than the traditional 33. To us he seems a bit paternal but at the time he was hugely more human and approachable than the film Jesuses that had gone before. DeMille insisted Warner remained in character the entire time he was on set, he knew the damage that bad publicity could do to the film.

The film did cause some controversy, though not for Warner's hardened drinking. Various Jewish organisations were concerned about potential anti-Semitism, for many of the same objections to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. If it's tempting to dismiss such criticisms out of hand then I think it's worth remembering that the two previous mainstream Jesus films released before DeMille's were both from Germany. The Jews were demonised and squarely blamed for Jesus' death. It's sobering to remember that just as people today picture Jesus as Robert Powell or James Caviezel, the German people in the 20s, 30s and 40s pictured those films when they thought of the gospels. Those anti-Semitic movies contributed to a cultural seachange that led to the Holocaust. After some discussion DeMille made changes and avoided most of those pit falls.

As a filmmaker DeMille doesn't get the credit he is perhaps due. He reproduces 300 paintings in the film going to huge lengths to perfect the lighting. The shot of the sandstorm as Jesus dies was technically immensely difficult. We'll be able to appreciate the intricacies of the design on the massive sets and the picture is full of memorable images, the expressionistic approach to the miracles. And the experimental use of two-strip Technicolor.

The film was so successful at the box office that screenings continued for years, well into the sound era. Missionaries took it with them abroad leaving a delighted DeMille to claim that "more people have been told the story of Jesus of Nazareth through The King of Kings than through any other single work, except the Bible itself"

And what about us? It's easy to dismiss the film for its soft-focus piety or moments of over-the-topness, but it's also a chance to see things in a new light. For theologians it's a chance to let the left brain and right brain to work together, for Christians it’s a chance to view the gospels from someone else's perspectives and notice things that might never have occurred to us on our own. For film fans a chance to reconsider the work or the motives of one of the most pivotal characters in the silent film era. And It's a chance for all of us to look back 90 years, to be enraptured, to be entertained, and to connect to those who have gone before us, and their faith, fears, hopes and dreams of a better world.

Joan the Woman (1916)

I'm introducing a screening of Cecil B. DeMille's 1927 film The King of Kings next month, so I thought now would be a good time to finally watch DeMille's take on Joan of Arc - whilst not a biblical narrative, certainly a story that, in popular culture terms at least, is a very close neighbour.

The film stars Geraldine Farrar, an opera star who Jesse Lasky poached for the Jesse L. Lasky Feature Play Company by offering her an exorbitant salary (Higham 49). Farrar is hardly the young teenager that Joan was, but she is otherwise good in the role, not least because her own star power gives an extra element to Joan's meteoric rise.

It's a while before Farrar gets to appear on screen however because the main part of the film is bracketed by some scenes from the trenches of WW1 - then a current conflict. This seems certainly like a response to Griffith's Intolerance, also Fritizi Kramer of Movies Silently (read her review of this film here) that amongst the reasons this was added was because screenwriter Jeanie Macpherson insisted on it in order to give the film "a more upbeat ending". I can imagine though that it would also reflect DeMille's concerns about the Great War and certainly this comes across as very much pro-France film with the French forces needing to repel the invading forces in their country. Of course as I'm looking for connections with The King of Kings then this link to a film that features Jesus cannot be ignored.

It'd be interesting to know (and I will probably read up on this in DeMille's autobiography shortly) to hat extent Griffith's work influenced DeMille. Joan was his first historical epic. From today's perspective that is surprising for his name is now synonymous with the genre. On the other hand however DeMille seems to critique Griffith's film, most notably in the scenes towards the end of the film when a series of men wearing white robes and hoods. It's an interesting way to link the KKK and the Borriquita brotherhood in nearby Spain. Their role as leading persecutors of DeMille's heroine certainly reflects badly on them and seems to be a rebuke to Griffith's Birth of a Nation (1915).

Perhaps the film's most significant contribution is the use of colour, most notably the Handschiegl Color Process (aka "Wyckoff-DeMille Process") for certain scenes Most notably Joan burning at the stake. DeMille pioneered colour a few times, and it's curious that whereas he used it for Joan's death, he uses another pioneering colour technique for Jesus' resurrection in The King of Kings. (In the earliest cut of the film he also uses colour for the opening sequence of a vampy Mary Magdalene and her lovers). It's very effective here, partly due to its limited use. There are some good screen grabs of it here.

Aside from the use of the Handschiegl Color Process, there is also the widespread use of tinting and toning throughout the film which DeMille uses to good effect. One memorable image is of the red tint that accompanies Joan's vision and calling. Here, as with many places in the film, DeMille uses double exposure to add an element of the supernatural here with the appearance of a cross. He uses this technique quite extensively through the film and to be honest overuses the double exposures, for a technique that had been in use since the turn of the century it seems a little odd that DeMille is so enamoured by it. Again though this reminds me of DeMille's use of double exposure - or more to the point multiple exposure in the scene where Jesus casts seven demons our of Mary Magdalene.

Lastly I just wanted to touch on the way DeMille and MacPherson use quotes from the Gospel accounts of Jesus' death. Two in particular stand out, notably when Joan herself asks why God has foresaken her, and then later, when she is on her way to the stake (and there is a very Golgotha-y feel to the way a procession leads her to the stake) when one of those who gave false testimony against her, and was even involved in torturing her, asks for her forgiveness because they "knew not what they did".

In many ways this actually recalls DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1956) more than The King of Kings (though it is perhaps the "middle term"). Through that film DeMille and screenwriter Aeneas MacKenzie draw out numerous parallels between Moses and Jesus often reversing the very ones the gospel writers put in to do the same. Here again we see this, not only in the use of these two lines to verbally create the parallels but also in variopus bits of imagery and composition.

As a film I must admit it didn't really grab me. Whilst some of the imagery is rather fine, particularly on a bigger screen, a lot of it had too much going on. In particular the Battle of Oreans was long and a little dull. DeMille clearly hadn't quite perfected his eye for the small details against the largest of backdrops and the composition looks cramped. It's one of the longest scenes in the film and it feels like the time and money invested it could have gone elsewhere.

That's all for now on this film - this is a scribbling down of a few thoughts, rather than a proper review as such, but hopefully it will be of interest to some.

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Higham, Charles "Cecil B. DeMille, an Uncensored Biography". (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1973).

The Ten Commandments (1956)

The paradox of The Ten Commandments is that it is one of the easiest films to mock and parody, and yet it's magnificence is such that whenever discussion arises about the biblical epic, and indeed biblical films in general, it's name is never far away.

The films more risible moments begin from the very start as, rather than adopting a more conventional opening, director Cecil B. DeMille steps out from behind the curtain and delivers an almost ten minute lecture arguing for his film's historical credibility. There follows around ninety minutes of fictional hokum as DeMille invents a backstory, a cadre of friends and potential foes, and strings them together with such unintentionally hilarious lines like "Oh, Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!".

And yet, at the same time these scenes also provide some of the film's most stunning moments. Take for example the scene where Moses erects an obelisk as his "brother" Ramsees stands limply by (the phallic symbolism is comically transparent). Yet, despite the fact that Moses completion of the task is never in doubt, DeMille manages to make dramatic and indeed spectacular footage from what is essentially, a construction scene. Thousands toil away in the immense heat of the desert, orchestrated  by one man's extraordinary vision, expertise and dedication to create an extraordinary masterwork - a description that suits both what we see on screen and what is going on behind the scenes.

Such parallels between DeMille's story of Moses and the modern day abound, not least because DeMille is determined to convert the story of the Exodus into a Cold War parable. DeMille's lecture at the start of the film concludes that "The theme of this picture is whether men are to be ruled by God’s law, or whether they are to be ruled by the whims of a dictator like... Ramsees" even adding "This same battle continues throughout the world today." The film carries this through in almost every respect from the casting of Russian-born Yul Brynner as Ramsees, through to the all American Heston striking a statue of liberty pose in the film's closing shot.

The film also goes out of it's way to elaborate on the parallels between Moses and Jesus, themselves the results of the Gospel writers' attempts to cast Jesus as a new Moses. As my friend Peter Chattaway observed, almost 20 years ago now, "Pharaoh orders the death of all newborn boys in Goshen, not because he is afraid of population growth, but because a star has prophesied the birth of a deliverer in their ranks". Moses' mother uses the words of the Magnificat when she finally meets her adult son. Joshua calls him "the chosen one". Others talk of how they dared not “touch the hem of his garment”. Moses himself explains his encounter with God at the burning bush in phrases that sound like the Gospel of John, "the Word was God", "his light is in every man" and so on. By reversing what Matthew and the other Gospel writers are trying to do DeMille effectively casts Moses in his own shadow.

The groundwork DeMille puts in during that opening ninety minutes pays off. The burning bush scene may not have aged well, but the scenes where Moses commands his former rival Ramsees to let his people go are as taut as Bryner's shendyt. Ramsees is still trying to win an old argument, but Moses moved on long ago. All the while the spurned Nefertiri is trying to keep the whole thing spinning in an attempt to hurt the man who spurned her and the one who didn't.

When the script finally starts to cover the actual biblical story, the spectacle becomes no less impressive. The eeriness with which the Angel of Death's green mist creeps through the Egyptian streets is a fitting climax to the nine plagues which have gone before. The scene of the Israelites leaving Egypt - a scene which actually delivers on the oft used strap-line "a cast of thousands" - deftly manages to combine the sheer scale of the event with the the individual and personal. An elderly man's dying wish here, and young girl and her dolly there, DeMille manages to take these small moments and make us imagine the impact of that multiplied ten thousand times.

Then, of course, there is the parting of the Red Sea. Film scholars still debate whether or not this version of the tale outdid his earlier silent version from 1923. Either way, both are hugely impressive even in the face of the tidal wave of CGI that dominates special effects today. The two scenes have had such a cultural impact that many today are shocked to discover the Bible actually describes a far more gradual process of the waters parting. So much for the film's repeated line "So let it be written. So let it be done".

And then, finally we get the obligatory orgy and the arrival of the titular commandments. Given his history DeMille was unlikely to pass up the chance to show scantily clad bodies writhing before the golden bull, but it's actually the sparks flying through the air to engrave the Commandments on the rock face which stick in the memory. As with the crossing of the Red Sea, the scene itself bears little resemblance to the corresponding passage from Exodus, where Moses is at the foot of the mountain with the people by his side, but such is the impact of this film that it's rare to find someone who thinks of either scene like the book.

The costumes are, of course, fantastic and the immense sets are first class. Heston, Brynner and John Derek's muscles gleam. Anne Baxter purrs, Vincent Price camps it up and Cedric Hardwicke gets to drily deliver wry witticisms. Even Edward G. Robinson, who fell foul of Joseph McCarthy, gets to join in scowlingly dismissing Heston's bright-eyed pronouncements. Meanwhile Elmer Bernstein - a relative unknown at the time - underpins the story with his classical score. Amazingly whilst the film lasts for 220 minutes, it never feels like that long, no doubt explaining why despite the $13 million it cost to make, it made almost ten times that at the box office and no doubt made it's budget many times over in reruns, home video sales and regular broadcasts at Christmas and Easter.

But perhaps the most significant thing about The Ten Commandments is how it has become the definitive film for so many different categories. Despite decades of westerns and parlour comedies, it's this film that comes to mind when people today think of Cecil B. DeMille. Regardless of Ben-Hur's eleven Oscars, it's The Ten Commandments that is seen as the quintessential Charlton Heston performance. And, of course, it stands as the definitive example of the biblical epic. Few films indeed can claim to be so typical of, and central to, their genre as this. Double Indemnity for film noir. Star Wars, perhaps, for science fiction. Like them it deserves to be put on a pedestal and celebrated, even if we recognise that part of the reason it is so monumental is because time has moved on and we are unlikely to see anything quite like it ever again.

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Chattaway, Peter (1999) "Lights, Camera, Plagues!: Moses in the Movies" in Bible Review 15:1, February.

Cleopatra (1934) and What it Says about DeMille

Whilst Cecil B. DeMille's Cleopatra (1934) may not quite be a biblical film it's worth of a few words of consideration here not only because it features at least one biblical character (Herod the Great), but also because it's one DeMille's string of ancient world films with at least connotations of the biblical epic and it's really rather revealing.

The biblical links, such as they are pretty much come down to a brief cameo by Herod the Great in the second half of the film. The first half looks at Cleopatra's relationship with Julius Caesar and is brought to a halt by his murder at the senate. There are a couple of shots here that look like they may have influenced by Joseph L. Mankiewicz's Julius Caesar (1953), miost notably the ones where Brando's Mark Antony address the crowd. (Though it's possible they both depend on an independent source such as a painting).

Antony (long-time DeMille collaborator Henry Wilcoxon) arrives in Egypt and is quickly met by Cleopatra (Claudette Colbert) who pulls out all the stops to try and impress him. It's not quite an orgy scene as per Sign of the Cross (1932), but it fulfils more or less the same function. More of that later. Whatever her methods Cleopatra manages to ensnare Mark Antony which begins to become a problem in Rome as Octavian accrues more power and then Herod arrives. It's perhaps hardly surprising. This was a rare romantic leading role for Wilcoxon whereas Colbert was, by then a big star.

After The Sign of the Cross and her Oscar-winning performance in Frank Capra's It Happened One Night (Columbia, 1934), Claudette Colbert was considered ideal for the role of CLeopatra, and no-one else was seriously considered. But the glorified ingenue of two years before was now a bona fide superstar, and Colbert's new status would create problems on the set during production. (Birchard 2004: 277)

We know from Josephus that Herod's not only knew Antony, but also had to utilise his political manoeuvring skills to the best of his ability during his benefactor's demise. DeMille condenses this into just a few short scenes. Herod arrives as the guest of Cleopatra (with whom he shared the rights to extracting asphalt from the Dead Sea) and immediately passes on a message from Rome that she ought to consider poisoning her lover. Cleopatra is appalled. It's a surprise, then, when Herod appears in the next scene with Mark Antony and tells him the whole thing. On the surface he is offering reassurance that Cleopatra would never dream of such a thing, but of course he's attempting to sow seeds of doubt in their relationship. It's notable that Cleopatra is marginally less horrified when one of her courtiers suggests shortly afterwards that it would probably be best for the nation if she did as Octavian asked.

Of course none of this is in the Bible - happening thirty years before Jesus' death, but it's not inconsistent of the man who seems so desperate to cling onto power that Matthew portrays him as murdering the infants of an entire village in order to eliminate threats to his throne. Interestingly Herod does not feature in either the Theda Bara/William Fox's silent Cleopatra (1917) which was difficult to come by even in DeMille's day (Birchard 2004: 277) or the 1963 Liz Taylor and Richard Burton version (which proved to be one of the death knells of the epic genre in general. DeMille's film was a big success).

For DeMille fans however there's a great deal of interest here, particularly in that not-quite-an-orgy scene. As Lindsay says, "no-one did an orgy like DeMille" (2015: 75). When Mark Antony arrives Cleopatra welcomes him aboard her boat. There then begins a series of seductions, starting with a half-hearted solo effort. When this fails to improve his mood she coyly confesses that she is dressed "to lure you in" and resorts to a more ego stroking "of course you're too clever to fall for all this routine".

To show her supposed naivety she outlines her "plan" and shows him all that she had lined up including half naked women writhing around on top of an ox. Then a giant net is hauled upon her ship supposedly containing clams, but actually including more semi-clad women bearing clams full of jewels and when Cleopatra, and then Antony, start flinging the jewels around scantily clad servants of both sexes roll around on the floor to get hold of them. Shortly afterwards women dressed as leopards from the waist up appear, roll around on top of one another and start to cartwheel thorough flaming hoops.

All of this is done in a knowing 'this wouldn't possibly work on a soldier such as you' type of way, perhaps best summed up by the conversation between the two of them:

Mark Antony: I hope that you know that I know you want me to do this.
Cleoptra: Dear Antony, I hope you think I know that you know I know
(they giggle together)

What's interesting about this knowing scene is that what Cleopatra is seeking to do to Mark Antony mirror what DeMille is trying to do to his audience, namely titillate them whilst giving lip service to their supposed immovability to such tacky, seductive fare.

The key difference between this film and others that are usually bracketed alongside of it is the moral message that DeMille usually tacks on. In his biblical films the orgy scenes are usually used as to contrast with the behaviour of the godly. It's a fairly transparent device which has been much commented on - use sex to sell the movie and then tag on a moral message to deflect the criticism. But "if one is paying attention, the sex and sadism in The Ten Commandments is almost unbelievable for a film with such strong Sunday school credentials" (Lindsay 2015: 75)

What I can't quite decide is if DeMille's work here is less acceptable, because without that redemptive message then really various scenes here are just mild porn; or more acceptable, because at least they're not fundamentally hypocritical.

You'll have noticed a couple of references above to Richard Lindsay's book "Hollywood Biblical Epics: Camp Spectacle and Queer Style from the Silent Era to the Modern Day" which I have just finished reading and so naturally it informed some of my thoughts about DeMille, specifically this film.

Lindsay argues that scenes such as these were "perhaps reflecting his own predilections" (Lindsay 2015: 38). To his mind both "DeMille and Gibson are 'queer' in the sense that their sexual desires, as revealed on screen, do not conform to traditional notions of sexuality as defined by traditional Christian communities." (2015: xxviii). Whereas most commentators tend to take a cynical view that DeMille was just trying to sell sex and dressing it up Lindsay is convinced "DeMille truly believed in the power of the Ten Commandments and the figure of Moses as a moral force for good..." (2015: 61), but that he was a truly conflicted individual.

"The camp content of his films has often been interpreted as an expression of the conflict between his Victorian piety and his interest in BDSM...practised with a "harem" of women outside his marriage. The misogyny, sadism, and overwrought melodrama of his epics seems to follow naturally from his own passions...so blatant a part of every DeMille film." (Lindsay 2015: 38)

For Lindsay, DeMille is perhaps best summed up in the sequence from towards the end of The Ten Commandments where "defining the conflicted impulses of his entire body of work, he cuts between Moses on the Mountain receiving the Law and the sexed-up orgy" (2015: 75)

I think this film is the most blatant indication of DeMille's desires, not just because of this one scene, but in the way the male gaze is so overwhelming in every scene. As Cleopatra, DeMille has Claudette Colbert (who "was ill during most of the production") dressed in a series of ridiculously over-sexualised and revealing costumes. (Higham 1973: 176-77).The audience is repeatedly encouraged to gaze on Colbert as Julius Caesar and Mark Antony did.

It's also interesting because, shorn of the biblical element a number of DeMille's auteurist touches become more apparent, the line from Logan's Magdalene, through Colbert's Poppea and Lamarr's Delilah to Baxter's Nefertiri is complete. Each of these glamorous women is frequently photographed in loose but scant flowing costumes, surrounded by supposedly men who lose their power in her presence. We get vast palaces. We get jewels. We get leopards as pets, or servants clad in leopard skin.

And of course usually we get another "DeMille signature--scenes of naked women in bathtubs". (Lindsay 2015: 9) Yet strangely, despite the fact that sources as far back as Pliny and Cassius Dio have suggested that Cleopatra used to bathe in asses' milk, this is the one thing that DeMille doesn't show here, perhaps because showing Colbert in a milk bath had already got him into hot water.

Having said all that, I want to end this piece with a nice take on this aspect of DeMille's work from a series of posts on Twitter by Fritzi Kramer (@MoviesSilently) which compares DeMille's supposed shortcomings with his predecessor D.W. Griffith.

Most people assume that his mixture of faith & sleaze was entirely calculating. His background says otherwise. DeMille is an almost perfect split between his flamboyant actress/agent mother & his bookish lay minister father. He was immersed in theater. But his great treat was when his father (who died young) would read to him from the bible in evenings. DeMille's religious beliefs were not exactly in the mainstream but they were from the heart. The conflict between faith & trash was very real for him. He loved both.

So when people like Lillian Gish & DW Griffith deliver these snotty little slams indicating that DeMille was a hypocrite, it's annoying. DeMille's faith was genuine but it was in conflict with his adoration of spectacle & frank love of trash. That's what makes him interesting. He approaches religious subjects from a place of knowledge, he just has an off-kilter take. And leopard skin. Oh did he love ladies in leopard. I relate to DeMille because I have similar internal conflicts & I find his way of dealing with his to be fascinating.

Also, his healthy relationship with his mother is probably responsible for his very woman-centric creative team in the silent era. If you want to see what DeMille could do when he had a mask of anonymity, do check out Chicago. The film is snappy, saucy & spicy. DeMille knew his way around a fast-paced crowd-pleaser. I guess the point of all this is that I wish people would give DeMille the same benefit of the doubt they give other directors. DW Griffith makes rapey films glamorizing the KKK & he gets every excuse under the sun. DeMille likes sexy shoes & the bible. I can tell you which one I would be more comfortable taking an elevator ride with.

============
Birchard, Robert S. "Cecil B. DeMille’s Hollywood". (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2004).
Higham, Charles "Cecil B. DeMille, an Uncensored Biography". (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1973).
Lindsay, Richard "Hollywood Biblical Epics: Camp Spectacle and Queer Style from the Silent Era to the Modern Day". (Denver, CO: Praeger, 2015).

Heston, DeMille and The Greatest Show on Earth

Four years before The Ten Commandments Charlton Heston and Cecil B. DeMille teamed up for a different kind of big film The Greatest Show on Earth (1952). It was the only best picture Oscar of DeMille's career and such a huge hit that without it Ten Commandments might never have been made.

At the time, Heston was a relative unknown, who managed to get the part after DeMille saw him on the lot at the studio. But Heston holds the film together, despite his inexperience. There's much here that echoes his portrayal as Moses. in the first part of The Ten Commandments Moses is shown to be an expert master builder marshalling an army of people to pull off an incredible feat of erecting Egypt's ancient buildings and there's much of that here too. Such is the size of the circus here that its often been show that it's the circus that us the real star if the show.

Then there's Brad/Moses' drive, focussed on the end goal and not easily swayed from his vision of the right outcome by personal sacrifices of those close to him. Several time in The Greatest Show on Earth the comment is made that he instead of blood he has sawdust in his veins,and a similar trait appears after Moses' encounter with the burning bush, where he's so focussed on freeing the Israelites that he leaves his wife behind and pains Ramsees whom he clearly cares for a great deal.

There's also the love triangle in both films Heston is loved by two women, seems largely detached from deep feeling for either of them, but ultimately leaves one of them disappointed (although they both marry someone else). I can't quite put my finger on the exact similarity between Gloria Grahame and Anne Baxter, aside from them being stars of key films noir, but there's a certain girl-next door approachability about them both even though one is a Princess and the other rides elephants.

For DeMille's part there's no 10 minute prologue in The Greatest Show on Earth as there is in The Ten Commandments, but DeMille does do the voice overs, moving the story at several key points and revelling in the kind of pomposity that so defines his films in general.

The performances are pretty good, though Jimmy Stewart steals the show in a role that ultimately makes me wondered if it influenced the performance of another Moses actor, Burt Lancaster, 37 years later in Field of Dreams. Also, as influence on later films goes I cant help wondering if one of the more memorable lines from Donnie Darko owes a debt to one exchange featuring Stewart.

But it is the circus tricks that really sets this apart from its contemporaries, particularly as these days films want to be able to say "no animals were harmed in the making of this film". Circuses have a reputation for animal cruelty - though it's possible that many are cruelty free - but it has to be conceded that many of the scenes of animals doing things were hugely impressive and, for anyone born after 1952, this is as guilt-free a way of seeing such spectacular achievements as I can think of.

So if you've not seen it, I would recommend it. It's not a Bible film as such but informs The Ten Commandments a little and it showcases DeMille and Heston at the top of their games.

Books by Film Designers

I've had a query from a reader and as my own answer is a little long, but also not entirely adequate I thought I'd post it here in case anyone has anything to add, or in case it was of interest to other people.

Matt, I know that many of the better films through the years have hired great designers who did their research and created outstanding and accurate fashions, props and sets for their films. What I need are photos that will provide me with some details. It’s my hope you may have the names of some books from both American and foreign publishers. An added hope is maybe some of the designers actually wrote some of these books. Thanks.

My immediate thought was of Henry S. Noerdlinger's book "Moses and Egypt" (pictured above) which describes itself as "The Documentation to the Motion Picture The Ten Commandments". It was published in 1956 by University of Southern California Press as an accompaniment to Cecil B. DeMille's second pass at The Ten Commandments. Noerdlinger was the official researcher for the film and goes to great depth in his research although sadly DeMille then left most of it out in the final work.

Whilst I'm sure there are other such books from the period, I personally don't know them. I have various books released as movie tie ins from Bible films, but most of these are more glossy books of publicity stills rather than works related to the design. It's certainly possible that some of these are still around, but I suspect it's something that wasn't popular at the time.

The other book in the above photo is more in line with what is desired, and it, too, is from a Moses film, 1998's The Prince of Egypt. It styles itself as a "Movie Scrapbook" and the front cover explains that it is "An in-depth look behind the scenes". Inside it takes various looks behind the scenes, including one called "Creating the Design". From memory similar books have been released for other more recent Bible films, though if they have I don't think I have any.

Actually though these things are far more likely to pop up as extra features on the DVD/Blu-ray discs. Special editions of most of the major Bible films have been made, and are often full of this sort of information - The Passion of the Christ for example is packed with this extra features of this sort, as also is The Miracle Maker. These obviously aren't quite still photos but if someone is just trying to get a general impression then film is as good as a book, and still pictures can be achieved from screen grabs on your PC/laptop. If you don't have any software that does this, then I'd recommend VLC which is open source (and therefore free), widely used, and well thought of.

If anyone has anything to add, please do chip in in the comments below. I know I've been a bit slow recently in moderating comments, but I'll keep a special watch out over the next few weeks.

The Sign of the Cross (1932)

DeMille's Sign of the Cross is notorious for being the film that brought about censorship in American cinema. A quick image search confirms DeMille's instinct for the public's appetite. Claudette Colbert's nipples poking out of a bath of milk might seem tame today - even compared to the occasional pop video - but clearly these shots still hold a certain appeal. DeMille knew his audience.

I want to focus on other aspects of the film though because whilst it certainly showcases the worst of DeMille's excesses (titillation offset by faux piety, over-wrought melodrama and a kitschy sense of spectacle) it also displays some of his trademark touches and some of his best work.

The plot is, like so many Roman-Christian epics the story of two people from different backgrounds meeting, falling in love with the Roman finally converting to Christianity. And it's to this film's credit that it doesn't import a whole bunch of biblical characters as various versions of Quo Vadis? do. The only character mentioned in the Bible (aside, I suppose, from cryptic references to Nero in Revelation) is Titus, who has been sent by Paul from Jerusalem.

Interestingly though Titus' entrance suggests that he is Peter. He walks in, the sunlight illuminating his bearded face, and clutching a huge staff. Titus meets Favius, the two are arrested as part of Nero's post-fire crackdown on the Christians and the two are saved by the intervention of the Christian girl, Mercia, and Nero's second in command Marcus. The two fall in love and the rest of the film is driven by their growing love and the resulting negotiation about who is going to adopt to who's world.

As is often the case with these early-Christian films there are various quotations from the New Testament: a compound version "blessed are the meek" and "the first shall be last and the last shall be first" ("The meek will take the place of the mighty"; exhortation to be like children"; recitation of some of the beatitudes in the background; and a summary of Luke's account of the second thief on the cross.

The looseness of these quotations is certainly acceptable - after all the film tells us at the start that this is 64 AD and, according to most scholars, the gospels are yet to be written. We are also given Titus' account of seeing Jesus on the road to Calvary.

However the real triumph of this film is it's use of the camera. The print available in the DeMille collection is really good, and it reveals some beautiful composed and lit shots. Colbert in the milk bath is tawdry; but the shot of Mercia's and Marcus heading up the steps to their deaths I could look at for a good while. The various underground prison scenes are also wonderful, eerily lit and often shot from a low angle.

But it's after 95 minutes when there are three shots that are simply stunning - the kind of innovative and tricky long shot that would have been particularly difficult to execute in 1932. They pre-date Welles and most of Hitchcock's work and in that light are certainly innovative. The first is a pan down a three story section of the Colosseum stair well. It starts fairly close to capture one couple's conversation before panning down to capture a conversation on the next level before descending to ground level and coming to rest just behind a stall where various other conversations of passers-by are overheard.

There's a brief close-up of one of these conversations before the film's finest shot. The camera begins with a close up of a poster detailing the day's events. It then zooms in panning down at the last minute to go through the bars of the Coliseum's cells starting with a high shot before zooming in close to some of the conversations amongst the frightened Christians. It's an immensely impressive piece of camera work as evidenced by the acclaim that Orson Welles gained for a similar shot 9 years later in Citizen Kane.

The third such shot is that opf gladiators processing out at the start of the games. Here the camera starts wide, takes in a lot of the procession before zooming all the way in on Nero (Charles Laughton).

Once the games begin the scenes in the coliseum are also very interesting. In contrast to these long takes leading up to the games, the fights themselves feature a lot of short shots. But for most of this segment the focus is actually on the audience. It's true that from time to time DeMille can't help but dwell on the spectacle he has laid before us (a little like Nero perhaps?) but overall it's the crowds reaction, some horrified, but most enraptured, or focussed on gambling that is what seems important, and it's certainly a damning indictment of the coliseum's punters. These are very well constructed montages for the most part. The close up shots of rabid crazed viewers, occasionally mixed with a more 20th century reaction or a shot of what they are watching make disturbing viewing. This contrasts with more recent films such as Gladiator which want us to enjoy the fighting and in which the audience is largely faceless and very much in the background.

It's also interesting to see some of DeMille's touches from other films (particularly 1927's The King of Kings. The love of exotic animals goes into overdrive here: lions, leopards, elephants, bears, bulls and crocodiles (shown from ground level). We also see the technique from King of Kings whereby writing initially in a foreign language dissolves into English. And then there are the wire bikini tops...

So Sign of the Cross is a film full of contradictions. The publicity revolved around Colbert and Laughton, but they are only supporting roles to Fredric March and Elissa Landi. It's an exhortation to Christianity and Christian values but revels in it's titillation and erotic imagery. It's best known for that fact, but should be more widely celebrated for showcasing some of DeMille's best work. And then whilst it tells us so much about what made Emile tick it also asks some probing questions about our tendency towards inhumanity. And the scandal of the film, as well as the gospel is that the true sign of the cross is for those in the baying crowds just as much as those brave enough to go to their deaths without even a whimper.

Cecil B. DeMille: American Epic

Arguably the pick of the Christmas telly over here in the UK was a screening of TCM's 2004 documentary Cecil B. DeMille: American Epic. At around two and a half hours Kevin Brownlow's tale of DeMille's life could have been as overblown and drudging as some of DeMille's films, but actually the time flew by. That's always a good indicator of the quality of a documentary, but anyone still unconvinced only has to look at some of the interviewees to be reassured. The talking heads for the programme were a mix of new and archive footage. The new footage featured Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese (both fans to a certain extent), DeMille's grandaughter Cecilia, and a much used contribution from Robert Birchard. I imagine it takes a great deal of effort to get to interview Hollywood's two most iconic and well known directors, but Brownlow gets the most out of them: there's not too much gushing, a good number of perceptive remarks, and the clips never damage the film's pacing.

The archive footage is drawn from over 60 years (the dates of the earliest snippets are hard to ascertain), but includes bits of interviews from several members of his family, not to mention the man himself. There were also clips from various members of his casts and crews, including Angela Lansbury, Charlton Heston and Gloria Swanson.

There are also numerous clips from the films themselves. Many of these seemed to have been colour tinted at some stage, which was a little strange when those parts of the film are only in black and white in the DVDs in my possession. Most notably the parting of the Red Sea scene from DeMille's first Ten Commandments. The sea itself was tinted blue, whereas the Israelite's reaction scenes where sepia. I'm not sure whether this is simply a different print, or something TCM did themselves, but I did kind of like it. As there are already two versions of the 1923 film (with and without a coloured exodus scene), I wouldn't been surprised if this was original, but then the colour did seem rather bold, and I don't recall reading of DeMille colour tinting before in spite of him pioneering with technicolour.

Anyway I found a few interesting new revelations and watching this overview of DeMille's life in one swoop gives a more immediate perspective than reading a more detailed version (like Birchard's) over a longer time period.

Incidentally you can see a trailer for this documentary from the site previewing it's appearance at 2007's San Francisco International Film Festival.

Weiss to Play Lamarr Playing Delilah?

Peter Chattaway is wondering whether Rachel Weiss will indirectly play Delilah given The Hollywood Reporter's story that Weiss has taken the leading part in a Hedy Lamarr biopic. Lamarr's most famous role was, of course, as the titular honey-trapping Philistine in DeMille's 1949 Samson and Delilah. Peter asks "Will the new film depict the making of DeMille's film in any way, shape or form?". I would have to guess "yes", but would be surprised if it showed any actual footage.

The film, with the working title Face Value will be directed by Amy Redford, daughter of Hollywood legend Robert.

Herod in DeMille's Cleopatra

Peter Chattaway recently watched Cecil B. DeMille's Cleopatra for the first time and has made some interesting comments about it, notably concerning the appearance of Herod the Great. It's one of DeMille's films that I've not seen yet. Perhaps I should add that DeMille boxset to my Christmas list.

Samson and Delilah and Sunset Boulevard

I've been meaning to post this for weeks and weeks, but for some reason I've failed to, delaying other plans elsewhere. Anyway, perhaps as long as two months ago now, I had my first viewing of Sunset Boulevard. It was one of those films I'd been meaning to see for ages, and as I was reading Robert S. Birchard's "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood" it seemed a particularly good time.

Unsurprisingly, the scene which most caught my attention was the one where Norma Desmond (played with relish by Gloria Swanson) goes to the Paramount Studio to meet her former director Cecil B. DeMille. For those not in the know, DeMille plays himself and it's interesting to see how closely his brief cameo coincides with the portrait of him in Birchard's book. Birchard repeatedly cites examples of DeMille's faithfulness to, and his care for, his former stars. Here he has a difficult case to deal with; one of his former, silent, leading ladies is deluding herself that she can make a comeback and has sent DeMille her own script. Meanwhile, one of DeMille's team has contacted Norma to try and borrow her vintage car for another film. Misinterpreting a call from DeMille's office as a sign of his interest in her script she rushes to Paramount to meet with him. There she is treated like the star she once was (see picture below), not least by another DeMille old timer who lets her experience life in the spotlight for one final brief moment. DeMille's sensitivity and care is apparent throughout, and whilst we should not forget that hie words are both scripted and directed, it also seems to come very easily to someone who only stepped in front of the cameras to act on a handful of occasions.The other thing that grabbed my attention was the fact that this scene appears to take place on the set of Samson and Delilah. I don't know much about this kind of stuff, but I would guess that this is the real set of Samson and Delilah. Firstly, Henry Wilcoxon (above) is filmed, but is not given any dialogue. Wilcoxon played a leading role in Samson and Delilah, but was also DeMille's associate producer . His presence would be easily explained if the Sunset Boulevard crew came onto the Samson and Delilah set, but it's unlikely that they would pay a star such as Wilcoxon just to be an extra.

Secondly, the scene in question is being filmed on a studio sound stage as most of Samson and Delilah was. Would the makers of Sunset Boulevard really build a set that was identical to one that already existed? I suppose there is the possibility that the existing set didn't give the the right angles for the pulled back shots they required, but it still seems like the most probable answer?

One final point, it took me a little while to figure out the chronology. After all Sunset Boulevard is set in, what was then, the modern day, so audiences assume that it's 1950. But Samson and Delilah was actually released the year before in 1949 suggesting that Boulevard actually takes place 1948-1949. I can't remember if there is any other evidence in the film that suggests a more specific date.

Giving of the Ten Commandments

My church is looking at the Ten Commandments at the moment, so I got asked to dig out some clips of Moses receiving the commandments. I looked at the following five which are probably the best crafted of those available:

The Ten Commandments (1923)
The Ten Commandments (1956)
Moses the Lawgiver (1975)
Moses (1996)
Ten Commmandments (2006)

As well as being the best clips they are probably the most widely known. The other popular Moses film that is not on the list is obviously The Prince of Egypt, but this only really shows a brief shot of Moses holding the commandments right before the credits roll. Likewise there is no equivalent scene in 1974's Moses und Aron For the record I could also have included clips from the following:

Green Pastures (1936)
The Living Bible - Moses, Leader of God's People (1958)
Greatest Heroes of the Bible - The Ten Commandments (1979)
History of the World Part 1 (1981)
The Ten Commandments: The Musical (2006)
Ten Commandments (2007)

...not to mention a whole host of cartoons.

Anyway, for anyone interested in repeating the exercise elsewhere, here are the start and end places/times of the clips I used - the clip length, and the version that I used. In most cases these are region 2, but I imagine the difference will be very slight, particularly as the DVD releases for the first two are identical regardless of the regional code. Links are to previous posts on each film. I've also added the leading actor's name and a few comments.
The Ten Commandments (1923)
Ten Commandments (1956) 50th Anniversary Collection – region 2
Disc 3 - Chapter 6; 35:05 – 42:48 [7:43 minutes]
Moses played by Theodore Roberts
This is the oldest of those available, and, for those unused to silent films, the style takes a bit of getting used to. Note the age of Moses here, and also that DeMille's citations are from Exodus 31 and 32 rather than the first account of the giving of the commandments in Exodus 19 and 20.

The Ten Commandments (1956)
Ten Commandments (1956) 50th Anniversary Collection – region 2
Disc 2 – Chapter 15; 73:12 – 78:45 [4:30 minutes]
Moses played by Charlton Heston
This is, obviously the most famous version, but it's utterly reliant on DeMille's earlier version. The streak of fire writing the commandments is fresh, but otherwise it's just a remake. Note how in both examples Moses receives the commandments at the top of the mountain, and whilst commandments 1 and 2 are being broken (not that the people would have known given this film's chronology!)

Moses the Lawgiver (1975)
Network/Granada Ventures – Region 2
Disc 2 – Chapter 3; 10:48 – 15:00 [4:12 minutes]
Moses played by Burt Lancaster
This is perhaps the most controversial version of these events, but it's relatively accurate to the accounts in Exodus. The clip ends with Moses on his way up the mountain with the tablets already under his arm, with the people having already agreed. An earlier scene shows Moses hearing God's call (in Lancaster's own voice) from the top of the mountain, but it's entirely ambiguous as to whether these commandments are from God or from Moses. It's also good how they are given more as prose than as "commandments".

Ten Commmandments (2006)
Disc 2 – Chapter 7; 68:10 – 72:04 [3:52 minutes]
Moses played by Dougray Scott
This is the most recent of the five, and it's main concern seems to be showing off it's technology. There's a heavy dependence on DeMille too - the idea of Moses going up the mountain to get the tablets, and of them being literally written by God (although not literally the "finger of God" as the text states), not to mention the desire to make this a showy scene.

Moses (1996)
Time Life Box Set – region 2
Part 2; 29:30 – 36:20 [6:50 minutes]
Moses played by Sir Ben Kingsley
This is perhaps my favourite of these five clips, largely because I had to see it to make me realise how the story actually appears in Exodus. It's sticks very closely to the text (Exodus 19:10-20:21), but given how stagey other version have been, this is a good thing, which is also why I recommend showing it last. I also like the idea of the commandments being something that welled up from the people as they encountered God, and the idea of the people corporately being the mouthpiece of God.

Book Review: Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood

Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood
Robert S. Birchard

University Press of Kentucky
(July 1, 2008)
Hardcover, 496 pages
English
ISBN: (978)0813123240
22.6 x 15 x 3.8 cm

There's a great story about Cecil B. DeMille from the time when he was shooting The King of Kings. In order for his picture to capture the correct degree of reverence DeMille instructed the cast and crew that whilst his leading characters were still in make-up they were to be treated "as if they were the original characters of the Bible". Everything was going wonderfully until one day the actor playing Jesus, H.B. Warner, kept fluffing his lines. Finally, DeMille blew his top and poured forth a stream of abuse only for Warner to shoot back. "Mr. De Mille, do you realize to whom you are speaking?"¹

It's the kind of classic anecdote so typical of the great director's reputation; the pious tyrant so capable of flying into a rage when things went badly. But such stories have become so ingrained in our consciousness that it's sometimes difficult to get beyond them to the real Cecil B. DeMille.

Robert S. Birchard, however, opts for a different approach entirely. Having worked as a "volunteer film archivist" his connections with the DeMille estate not only enabled him to view all of the DeMille films still in existence, but also gave him sufficient access to a wealth of DeMille's correspondence. As a result, "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood" contains very few anecdotes such as the one above. Instead Birchard concentrates on the facts as conveyed through the mountain of correspondence DeMille left behind him.

The result is an impressively thorough examination of the story of DeMille's films. This should not be mistaken for a DeMille biography. There's nothing of his birth or childhood except in retrospect, and only if it becomes relevant to a particular film. Instead, the book opens in 1913 with the events that culminated in the production of DeMille's first film The Squaw Man. Birchard proceeds to take a separate chapter for each DeMille film. Whilst the chapters that cover the films now lost to us are obviously shorter than the others, they still provide a good deal of information about them. Some, I suppose, would see such history as a little pointless, but, in fact, these chapters are vital; they ensure that the book is about DeMille's body of work as a whole - a narrative comprised of shorter narratives if you will - rather than being a merely a collection of essays about some of his films.Much of the book is comprised of extended quotes from this correspondence, and Birchard uses it to highlight several facets of DeMille that tend to go unnoticed. In particular, DeMille's loyalty to fading stars who had worked for him in their younger years is demonstrated time and again. It casts a very different light on DeMille's appearance in Sunset Boulevard. And indeed whilst Birchard does provide the occasional example of DeMille's famous temper, overall he is presented as far more measured than the anecdotes would have you believe. The kind of person, in fact, who might possess sufficient collaborational skills to be able to produce seventy movies. Particular? Yes. A little short tempered? Certainly. Cruel and out of control? No.

ButBirchard's account is also honest enough not to portray DeMille as someone he wasn't. Birchard accepts that his artistry was not that of certain other well known directors, but insists that, nevertheless, there was more to his movies than he has often been credited with.

Indeed it's this considered, measured approach to DeMille's work that is the book's biggest strength. DeMille's own autobiography is entertaining , but leaves one wondering how things really happened. Higham's biography is criticised as being sycophantic.³ By contrast, Birchard sticks largely to the facts interspersing his own commentary on events with excerpts from letters and telegrams, and sections of movie dialogue. There are also three substantial collections of photos (the majority of which are from the author's own collection). There are also three appendices listing A - DeMille Pictures' Costs and Grosses, B - Other DeMille film credits, and C - Unrealised Projects.

However, at times, Birchard's love for his sources gets in the way somewhat, as the details occasionally elbow out some of the more interesting information. Take, for example, chapter 68 about Samson and Delilah. Birchard discusses, at some length, the departure a largely unknown member of DeMille's costume department - Ralph Jester - even quoting, in full, one of DeMille's letters to him. But moments later, Henry Wilcoxon's promotion to associate producer is given a mere half sentence, despite the fact that Katherine Orrison has written both his biography and a book on DeMille's 1956 Ten Commandments largely based on his memories.⁴ It also means that, sadly, the book isn't quite as engaging as it perhaps could have been. DeMille was an extraordinary character, but somehow the book drags a little on occasion.

Overall though, it's a fascinating insight into the inner workings of DeMille's seventy films with the such a wealth of evidence and the kind of precision that gives the reader real confidence in the trustworthiness of what they are being told. And whilst no-one will ever be able to capture everything about Cecil Blount DeMille within the pages of a mere book, "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood" is certainly an admirable attempt.

1 - Amusing though it is, I should clarify that this is precisely the kind of anecdote that the book avoids. It is, in fact, adapted from this story at anecdotage.com.
2 - Birchard, Robert S., "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood", The University Press of Kentucky (Lexington, Kentucky, 2004), p.xiv
3 - See for example Jonathan Rosenbaum.
4 - Peter T. Chattaway - Interview with Katherine Orrison - FilmChat - March 21st 2006 - http://filmchatblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/katherine-orrison-interviews-up.html

Bible Films that Never Were

Cecil B. DeMille's name will forever be associated with the biblical epic even though he only ever made three and a half films based on the Bible - his two versions of The Ten Commandments (1923¹ and 1956), his Jesus film The King of Kings and 1949's Samson and Delilah. Indeed, given that Samson and the second Ten Commandments were two of the last three movies he ever made , it's a reputation he might never have earned at all. True, there were a number of other ancient epics in his seventy-film canon, but it was those last two films in particular, that cemented his place in the popular imagination as the man that made biblical epics.

However, I've been reading Robert S. Birchard's "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood" recently, and one of the appendices lists the veteran director's unrealised projects. Given the vast number of movies he made, it's surprising that there are only twelve sucfilms, but it's interesting that four of them are Bible films.

The first of these is The Deluge which I discussed last year. DeMille was considering making the film in the late 20s, but when it became apparent that Michael Curtiz was already making Noah's Ark he switched his attention to The King of Kings instead. Aspiring filmmakers considering adapting the story of Noah take note.

The second film on Birchard's list was Esther (or The Story of Esther) and he notes that MacKinlay Cantour was working on this in the summer of 1934². Birchard doesn't say anymore, but given that this was the same year that DeMille directed Cleopatra, my guess is that he ultimately decided he could only handle one heroine-driven ancient epic at a time.

There's a good deal more information on Queen of Queens, DeMille's planned story of Jesus's mother, (though it's hard to believe that such a title would ever have been taken seriously).

Jeanie Macpherson worked on the script from November 20, 1939 to July 27, 1940. William C. DeMille also worked on the script from March 4, 1940 to June 7, 1941, and William Cowan wrote on the project from September 3 to October 9, 1940. Queen of Queens met some resistance from the Catholic Church , and the film was never scheduled for production.³

Lastly, Birchard tell us that Macpherson also started work on a script for the story of King David, Thou Art the Man.⁴ This was six years before David and Bathsheba reached the screen with its take on David's adultery, so it seems unlikely that once again DeMille had been put off by a similar project at another studio. Perhaps, given his long-standing desire to bring Samson's story to the screen he decided to focus on that instead.

Aside from the list of DeMille's films-that-never-were, I was also interested to read that Steve Reeves and Cary Grant had both been considered for the leading role in Samson and Delilah. Reeves is not in the least surprising, given that he went on to play Hercules and Goliath, but it's incredible to think that any kind of consideration was ever given to Grant. Of course, the whole point of the Samson and Delilah story is that the source of Samson's strength isn't obvious. So it wouldn't have been inconceivable for Grant to play him, but when you look at the final film, and it's emphasis on, and love for, Mature's oiled torso, it's hard to imagine Grant in that same role.

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On a not unrelated note, Eric David of Christianity Today has written a short piece on French director Robert Bresson which claims that he was initially approached to direct Dino de Laurentiis' The Bible: In The Beginning.

In the mid 1960s, Dino de Laurentiis planned a series of films based on the Bible, featuring top directors of the day, including Huston, Visconti, Welles and Fellini. When Bresson, slated to direct Genesis, told de Laurentiis that he planned to film it in Hebrew and Aramaic, and wouldn't show any animals on Noah's Ark, only their footprints in the sand, he was fired. Huston took over and The Bible: In The Beginning, was released, but did not perform well enough to justify the other directors helming their respective films. Bresson yearned to film Genesis the rest of his life, but it never came to pass.

That would certainly have made for a very different film, but given that Bresson instead went on to direct his masterful Christ-figure film Au hasard Balthazar that same year, and that Huston's version has so much to commend it, it may well have all been for the best.