La Reine de Saba (Queen of Sheba)

Henri Andréani, Pathé, France, 1913, 19 mins
One of the things that has changed as a result of the birth and growth of film is a universalising in standards of beauty. Whereas, in the past, curvy women were seen as the ideal in some cultures and but not in others, and different skin tones were championed from place to place, today such variety has largely disappeared and been replaced by a standardising of ideas as to what is and is not beautiful.

This effect is something that is simply demonstrated by La Reine de Saba (1913) based on the story of Solomon and the glamorous Queen of Sheba. It's a a well-loved biblical tale which has inspired a wealth of romantic interpretations from Handel's "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba" to the 1959 film Solomon and Sheba starring Yul Brynner and Gina Lollobrigida. But, in the biblical text, there's actually no specific indication of a romance between the two monarchs. Of course Solomon had 700 wives, most of which were royalty from foreign tribes, but using there are two major objections to such conjecture. Firstly, it is doubtful that many of these marriages contained any actual romance. The majority of them would have been made for political purposes, treaties etc., and whilst lust may also have been a factor, this is also distinct from romance. Secondly, whilst this story is included immediately before the statistics about Solomon's marriages, this does not necessarily mean that this is an example of one of them. Indeed, the absence of any suggestion that the two were married may actually indicate that this is intended as a(n ironic?) contrast.

What's also interesting about the original story is that it's a rare example in scripture of the female gaze. Obviously we also find this in Song of Solomon, but these are rare examples. Even Ruth and Esther are written from a more male point of view. So perhaps this is why the story has generally been interpreted as romantic despite any specific statement to that effect.

It's not surprising, then, to find indications of romantic attraction in La Reine de Saba: she hears of his greatness and comes to visit; when she meets Solomon she, very symbolically, removes her veil; she wonders at his wisdom and building programme and showers him with gifts; Solomon gives her gifts in return; the two are clearly smitten; a jealous lover (Horam) is introduced and plans to kill Solomon; Solomon and the queen kiss, but when the queen is called back to her own country Solomon refuses to kiss her goodbye; finally, the queen replaces her veil as she leaves.

Yet, to the modern viewer, the source of Solomon's attraction is not particularly obvious. The queen is far from early 20th century perceptions of beauty. She is probably at least a (UK) size 16 and, gasp, has hairy armpits. These days this actress would struggle to find a job as a villainous school teacher. The hairy armpits, of not only the queen but also of her courtiers, is particularly interesting because this is something that seems to have changed even in my own lifetime. I clearly remember at school discussing the perception that continental European women had hairy armpits - born out by meeting actual German girls on my exchange trip there in the late 80s. Nowadays, this is very rare. Aside from a the shock caused by Julia Roberts, once (!), I can't remember the last time I saw a picture on the media of a woman with hairy armpits. Thus two previous opposing standards of beauty have become one during my lifetime alone. It seems a shame to me that what is considered beautiful has become quite so standardised, particularly given that in reality, even within the same culture, different men like different things and different women like different things. I should add that the photo used above is actually from the now lost 1921 Fox film The Queen of Sheba starring Betty Blythe.

Body hair and beauty aside, the film's biggest set piece is another particularly notable moment, showing the queen's journey to Jerusalem. The procession is huge and seems to incorporate a number of ethic groups. There are Arab men wearing typically "Islamic" hats, including a handful of snake charmers, and there are sub-Saharan African men in conventional dress for that region including spears and so forth. My guess is that this is an attempt to incorporate the disparate theories as to the location of Sheba, though to be either somewhere on the Arabian Peninsula or from around modern day Ethiopia. It's notable, however, that the queen herself, is white.

The plot summary provided by the organisers of the "Ancient World in Silent Cinema II" event gave the film the following synopsis:

King Solomon displays his judgement and wisdom in and around Jerusalem. The Queen of Sheba hears of the fame of Solomon and, following an exchange of letters between them, travels to Jerusalem in a great procession to meet him. She is awed by his wisdom and wealth. Solomon reciprocates with gifts. The jealousy of the queen’s follower Horam is aroused by the feasts given by Solomon. Horam is killed by Solomon’s guards outside the royal bedroom. Messengers from the queen’s court bring news of disorder in her country, so King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba are forced to part.

Campbell and Pitts don't cover this film, and the BFI database only has a single sentence by way of summary. "Costume epic drama based on the biblical story of Queen Sheba and King Solomon."

Photo used above is from the now lost 1921 Fox film The Queen of Sheba.

Samson et Dalila

Ferdinand Zecca, Pathé, France, 1902, 3 mins.
The earliest film of those shown at the Ancient World in Cinema event was Samson et Dalila (Samson and Delilah) from 1902. Strangely it was also one of the few shown on the day for which I've been able to find any sort of production image.

Given its age, it's no surprise that this is also one of the shortest of the films shown. Indeed the film starts when the story of Samson is almost over. Delilah has already extracted Samson's secret from him; all that now remains is for her to out it to the test. Putting aside from the other incidents in Samson's life, and looking solely at the Samson and Delilah story, it seems to me that the dramatic interest in the tale is about the conflict between the two, which climaxes when Samson finally reveals his secret. So it's strange that this film begins its version of events immediately after this point.

Samson isn't really shaved here, in fact when he awakes he still has rather more hair and beard than is typical today, but I guess something more convincing may have been more difficult to pull off at such an early stage in proceedings (though an "O Brother Where Art Thou-type beard-on-a-string would probably have bee acceptable in 1902.

There follows Samson's arrest and imprisonment tied to a millstone, but it's the temple scene that's really interesting. Firstly because Samson's appearance is preceeded by a troupe of dancing girls giving a fairly lengthy performance. Given the very short total running time of the film, this sequence takes a very large proportion of it. One wonders how this came to be. Of course, what's interesting is that such deviations would become a staple part of the biblical epic genre. You don't have to think for too long before numerous descendants of this sequence - scantily clad girls dancing for the benefit of the viewer, if not the plot - spring easily to mind. And introducing non-biblical episodes into the story, sometimes at the expense of great chunks of a film's runtime, has gone on to become the norm, rather than an exception as it was in the time of these films.

The downside of this portracted sequence, at least from the point of view the story is meant to be understood from, is that it gives us a degree of sympathy for the girls whose performance is rewarded by being crushed by not-particularly heavy looking cinema stand-in stones. That contrasts with Samson who we've had little time to get acquainted with. The moments we do have do this quite well - his despair at finding his hair cut, the forlorn figure operating the mill and his thoughts (And prayers) moments before brining the roof down on the Philistine temple.

The biggest surprise, however, is Samson's ascent to Heaven, portrayed in a style very familiar to those conversant with Zecca's The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ. Given that that film was compiled over a number of years, it's hard to know which scene came first. There are plenty of other Pathé trademarks as well, such as the hand coloured film and the distinctive cotuming.

The film is the first to be mentioned in "The Bible on Film" (as the Old Testament section comes before the New). Campbell and Pitts have this to say:

SAMSON AND DELILAH
1903, France, Pathé, 15 minutes B/W
Director: Ferdinand Zecca
Perhaps the first film version of the story of mighty Samson, from the Book of Judges, whose physical strength could not keep him from falling under the spell of the beautiful, but evil, Delilah.

There's a slight discrepancy in the film's stated length which is somewhere between Campbell and Pitts's 15 minues and the BFI's 3. The BFI archive has little more to say although they may be behind this synopsis on the UCL website:

Delilah cuts off Samson's locks. Bereft of his strength, he turns a millstone in prison. Brought back, the shackled Samson tears away the pillars of the temple where he has been publicly humiliated, causing it to crash down in pieces. Samson's triumphant spirit, accompanied by angels, rises out of the ruins.

And there's also an entry (in French) from the Pathé database.

La Vie de Moïse & The Life of Moses

La Vie de Moïse, Pathé, France, 1905.
Interspersed with
The Life of Moses, J. Stuart Blackton, Vitagraph, US, 1909-10, 13 mins.
Perhaps the most unusual story behind the films being shown at last month's Ancient World in Silent Cinema event was these two films, which had been mixed together as if to form one film. The films on display at the event were all taken from one particular collection (the name of which I somehow failed to write down) which was apparently brought together by a teacher in a seminary in Switzerland. Those using Bible films to teach the Bible today can see the idea goes back a long way. Anyway, it appears that the original collector spliced these incidents together from two rather incomplete films, to give a fairly full account of Moses's life. I've listed the events below first with those episodes taken from the 1905 French film in the lighter text, and those from Blackton's 1909-10 US film in the darker text. I've also included biblical references.

Baby Moses on the Nile - (Ex 2:1-9)
Israelite Slaves - (Ex 1:11-14)
Moses kills an Egyptian - (Ex 2:11-14)
Moses flees - (Ex 2:15)
Moses meets Jethro & his Daughters - (Ex 2:16-22)
Burning Bush - (Ex 3:1-4:17)
Burning Bush - (Ex 3:1-4:17)
Return to Egypt - (Ex 4:18-23; 27-31)
Before Pharaoh - (Ex 12:31-42)
Parting of the Red Sea - (Ex 14)
Manna from Heaven - (Ex 16)
Water from the Rock - (Ex 17:1-7)
Giving of the Ten Commandments - (Ex 20)
Radiant Face of Moses - (Ex 34:29-35)

Unfortunately, writing these films up has taken me longer than I anticipated (I still blame East Midlands trains), and so the details of these two films are beginning to fail me, but here are a few observations based on what I wrote at the time and the odd memory that is yet to desert me.

When Moses is portrayed as a young man his complexion is surprisingly dark. There's little attempt to fill in his backstory - as opposed to the two or so hour DeMille devoted to this part of Moses' life not covered by the Hebrew Bible - we see some Israelite slaves in the pits making bricks, and of the three silent Moses films this is the one that goes into the most detail with different shots detailing different steps in the process. It's an almost documentary-esque sequence which we snap out of once Moses enters the frame. Two Israelites have been having a heated discussion when an Egyptian attempts to restore order. Moses kills the Egyptian but rather than thanking him, the two Israelites continue their quarrel pausing only to tell others what Moses has done.

Moses fears the worst and not giving Pharaoh a chance to hear of it, he goes to the house of Miriam and Aaron and flees. Moses is clearly already familiar with the two of them, and they help him in his flight. Moses arrives in Midian in time to save Jethro's daughters, and then encounters the burning bush in the next scene. What's interesting about the sequence of events presented here is how closely it corresponds to the biblical account. The bulrushes scene is obviously from a different film from the rest of the Exodus 2 material, but it sticks fairly closely to the events as they are presented with little embellishment.

Special effects were still fairly basic in this period, but it's interesting to see how quickly they develop. Some of the early Pathé films really did make the most of the medium here - consider, for instance, the walking on water and ascension scenes from Life and Passion of Jesus Christ. The only episode here to appear in both films is the burning bush and we see two contrasting special effect techniques. The later film here is shown first. The bush seems to have been actually set on fire, but before the scene ends the fire has gone out. The other scene, shot perhaps 5 years earlier in 1905 uses a less realistic technique - air blown streamers flying up from the vent they are ties to in the floor. The streamers technique feels more primitive, much more the kind of thing one would expect to see in a play in the theatre (at least before pyrotechnics were invented). It's quite a development in five years, though viewing it over a century later the streamers do give it an otherworldly feel that the realism of the Blackton film perhaps lacks.

The plagues are largely omitted: there's two brief scenes back in Egypt (from the US film) before we return to the earlier movie to witness the parting of the Red Sea. Given this is such an early film, it's very cleverly done (although it emphasises just how impressive DeMille's efforts were less than 20 years later). My memory is a little sketchy at this point so perhaps anyone else who saw this film could confirm or deny what follows. There's a mid shot of Moses and some Hebrews, with some "sea" in the foreground. Moses prays/ commands and this water seems to move and drain away (it's perhaps shot on an actual beach as a wave goes out. There's then a cut to a body of water which jostles about and retreats. This looks like it could have been something shot in reverse.

Special effects abound in the next scene as we see manna fall from heaven like snowflakes, followed swiftly by Moses striking a rock to bring forth water. At a guess I'd say this was the same set as the earlier burning bush scene, certainly the low-ish camera angles and the backdrop are very similar.

The last scene, again from the earlier film, is of the giving of the Ten Commandments. Moses is met on Mount Sinai by some angels who give him the stone tablets. By this stage Moses's hair has turned white and he has a halo. Once he descends a little the halo is replaced by two rays from his head after Exodus 34:29-35. It's an interesting halfway house between the "horned" face of Jerome's Vulgate translation, and the now more widely accepted "radiant" face. The horned Moses, as portrayed in Michaelangelo's famous sculpture above, was usually thought to have two horns, and here he is given two rays that come out of his head initially as if they were horns.

The BFI database doesn't include a synopsis for this film, but does list some alternative titles, one of which is Moses and the Exodus from Egypt for which Campbell and Pitts give the following summary:

Moses and the Exodus from Egypt
1907, France, Pathé, 478 feet B/W
Another short film in Pathé's series of Biblical movies, this outing was perhaps the first flicker to tell the story of Moses. Included in this lost silent were the scenes of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments and the falling of the manna from heaven.

The later film actually appears to be a collection of shorter films released individually between 1909 and 1910. Again the BFI offers few details. Whilst they list each entry separately, the only details are the names of the company (Vitagraph) and director (J. Stuart Blackton). It lists the following four episodes:

I. PERSECUTION OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL BY THE EGYPTIANS
II. FORTY YEARS IN THE LAND OF MIDIAN
III. PLAGUES OF EGYPT AND THE DELIVERANCE OF THE HEBREWS
IV. THE VICTORY OF ISRAEL

Campbell and Pitts give this a much more significant write up, naming five episodes and giving release dates. The titles match, and the final episode is called The Promised Land

THE LIFE OF MOSES
1909-1910, Vitagraph, 5 reels, B/W.
Director: J. Stuart Blackton
Screenplay: Rev. Madison C. Peters
CAST: William Humphrey, Charles Kent, Julia Arthur, Earle Williams, Edith Story.
Vitagraph released THE LIFE OF MOSES in five parts beginning December 11, 1909 and culminating February 19, 1910. The whole film told the story of Moses and how he led the Israelites out of Egypt and into the Promised Land.
The portions of the film and their release dates are:
Part One: "The Life of Moses" (December 11, 1909).
Part Two: "Forty Years in the Land of Midian" (December 31, 1909).
Part Three: "Plagues of Egypt and the Deliverance of the Hebrews" (February 5, 1910).
Part Four: "The Victory of Israel" (February 12, 1910)
Part Five: "The Promised Land" (February 19, 1910)
The first of a supposed series of Biblical pictures from Vitagraph, THE LIFE OF MOSES
Showed such happenings as the pillar of fire, the parting of the Red Sea and the giving of The Ten Commandments. The Moving Picture World called it "a picture that is deserving of the greatest praise and commendations as a whole"

Incidentally, J. Stuart Blackton was also the director of a number of other Bible films including Salome (1908), Saul and David from 1909, and Jephthah's Daughter; A Biblical Tragedy (1909) which was one of those that was originally due to be shown at the UCL event, but had to be cut for reasons of time.

L'Exode (Exodus)

Louise Feuillade, Gaumont, France, 1920, 13 mins.
The image is, of course, from DeMille's 1923 The Ten Commandments, but of all the silent films about the Moses story, and a good deal of those since, L'Exode is easily the most daring. Whereas DeMille stacked the pack, making Pharaoh's son a brat so that none of us minded when the finger of God bumped him off, L'Exode portrays him far more sympathetically. The result is a thought provoking and challenging film which makes us question which side we are really rooting for. By the end we are glad that Moses and the Israelites have left Egypt, but for all the wrong reasons. Our sympathies lie with the Egyptians and we are relieved to see the children of Jacob ejected from the land.

The film builds carefully towards this climax from its opening scene. Like DeMille's film the story starts between the ninth and ten plagues, In fact, one of the film's German titles was Zehnte Plage (Tenth Plague) - the other being Auszug Der Kinder Israels Aus Ägypten (The Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt). We open with an interior shot of a very elderly Moses consulting men who are presumably the elders of Israel. I say 'presumably' because not only are the intertitles are in German but the interior of the room (I was going to say palace) is sufficiently luxurious to leave the audience wondering which scene from the Bible they have just witnessed. The brilliant-white haired man whose matching beard almost reaches his waist could certainly be Moses, but the room is certainly not typical of a Hebrew slave. But if this is the palace then where is Pharaoh? Or even some in Egyptian dress?

But all becomes clear when those present in the room disband to instruct the Israelites on how to mark their door posts with lambs blood. This scene is again deserves some discussion, not least because it is taken as one long shot which pans back and forth from door to door, focussing in on doors at different depths. This must have been a relatively unusual use of the camera in 1910, but thematically it unifies the individual households as the camera moves gracefully from one to the next.

This panning shot is also fairly graphic, as the camera moves from door to door we see the throats of lambs being slit, their blood being drained off and sprinkled on the doorposts. On a single viewing it's difficult to work out whether or not these lambs were actually killed on set. Certainly movies in those says were not monitored by the American Humane Association and there were several instances of people being killed on set during a shoot. The blood is also flicked onto the doorpost using a hyssop branch rather than daubed as per The Ten Commandments (1956). Exodus 12:22 says only to "Strike" the door with the blood drenched hyssop, but elsewhere in the Torah (Lev. 14, Num. 19) it talks about using Hyssop to sprinkle blood as part of a ritual.

Next we move to inside Moses's house, which is clearly a different building from the room he is shown in earlier. Here he and his family gather to share the passover meal. Exodus has God calling for this meal to be celebrated at night, yet light streams into the room from an upper window. This may have been a mistake, or a theological statement about new light or a new dawn or such like. Either way, the resulting shot is stunning. The Bioscope basks in its "Rembrandt lighting". Certainly it was the most memorable shot in the whole collection of films, and thankfully the director was sufficiently aware of his achievement to linger on the short for us to fully enjoy it.

The scene is very much reminiscent of the same scene in DeMille's 1956 The Ten Commandments, only without Rembrandt's lighting: an unadorned room with only a plain table in the middle; various guests, including servants, joining in the meal; newcomers entering via the door in the wall on the right hand side of the camera. There is seemingly no other room in building and the camera stays largely at a distance with the length of the table crossing the width of the screen. Given that DeMille had always been a devout Christian, and his interest in films was such that he would make his first movie just four years later, it's more than possible that he saw this film and was, on some level, influenced by it, though perhaps only DeMille could take such a wonderfully composed shot and remove it's most striking element for the sake of biblical fidelity.

It's at this point that the film's emphasis moves from Moses and the Israelites to the Egyptians. We're introduced to Pharaoh's son but, in contrast to the 1923 DeMille version, he is shown sympathetically. Here is a normal child that one cannot help but warm to - a sense of connection that is immediately overshadowed by the knowledge that we know his fate. Perhaps even more unusually, as he begins to display signs of illness we see Pharaoh's tenderness toward his son, and the concern of his carers.

The son's death is followed fairly swiftly by a cut to the house of a miller where a similar scenario unfolds. The miller and his wife are concerned by their daughter's health, but having placed her on a chair he continues with his work. He's a big man pushing a huge millstone, yet the tension of the previous scene and the sickening sense that we know what is shortly to occur is heightened as the miller slowly grinds the millstone round one more revolution. At first he has is back to her, then his view of her is obstructed by the stone itself. By the time he returns to where he started the child has died. The grief is palpable, all the more on the day due to Stephen Horne's hauntingly evocative live piano accompaniment.

There's a wealth of symbolism here. Whereas Pharaoh sits at the very top of this kingdom, the miller sits at the bottom. Pharaoh was at least responsible for what unfolds: the miller is entirely innocent. His back-breaking work almost indistinguishable from that of the Hebrew slaves. As the camera first cuts to the scene it seems almost unimportant - as if an important character is about to enter and make an announcement, perhaps announcing the death of Pharaoh's son, or of children all over the nation. In contrast to the scene with Pharaoh's son, here, it only gradually dawns on us that this is the scene we are waiting for, and that therefore the little girl is also doomed. There's no doubt that much could also be made of the symbolic nature of his profession, going round in circles, crushing the grain and so on.

As if the emotional impact of these two scenes was not great enough, the next is a real sucker punch. In a courtyard, perhaps in Pharaoh's palace, two parents mourn their lost child. They are soon joined by two more, and then two more, and so on until the frame is crammed with parents mourning their lost children. It's the kind of scene that is utterly absent from both the Bible and from any other film version of this story, creating sympathy for the Egyptians, and causing believers to re-visit this story from the point of view of those on the other side. Horne accompaniment may have made it all the more poignant, but the sympathy for those on the losing side of this biblical narrative is certainly there amongst the visuals alone. The scene concludes with an intertitle that mentions the 430 years in Egypt and the 600,000 Hebrews that let Egypt during the Exodus.

But given these three scenes, it is hardly surprising that when the Israelites leave, they are almost thrown out, rather than leaving joyously with gifts from the Egyptians. Indeed they are quite literally shown the door. The scene is on a much smaller scale than the one from The Ten Commandments (1923) shown above and is relatively short. The film's abrupt ending, just as the Exodus begins, seems to reinforce the Egyptian perspective - there's no concern for how the Hebrews will fare now. L'Exode (Exodus) is not so much about the birth of one people group so much as the death of another.

The BFI synopsis suggests that either the start of this film was missing, or that I don't recall it and failed to write notes on it. Here is their entire summary:

BIBLICAL DRAMA. Moses warns Pharaoh; marking the Israelites' doors; the Passover feast; the death of the firstborn; the Israelites leave the city. No main title or first intertitle. Pharaoh sits, surrounded by his court. Four women bring in his son whom he kisses affectionately. A black guard announces Moses, who is always led by Aaron and followed by a group of Israelites. Moses foretells the tenth plague and leaves. Pharaoh embraces the boy (133). " Die Vorbeerereitungen zum Osterfest..." (149). Moses, with long white forked beard, seated indoors while Aaron kneels besides him, instructs the Israelites about the Passover (246). Street: man takes a dead lamb indoors while a woman holds a bowl of blood and a man marks doorposts with blood. Pan to Moses sprinkling blood on another doorpost. By a third door a lamb's blood is being drained (380). "Das Erste Osterfest..." (395). Indoors: A couple lay a table. The Israelites enter. Moses celebrates the first passover: he preaches and prays. A roast lamb is put on the table. Moses hands out food (714). "Die Zehnte plage..." (730). Pharaoh's son sleeps surrounded by harpist, mandolin player and fanwaver. Pharaoh enters, kisses him and leaves. The boy starts up, gasps and flops dead, arms outstretched (823). A man pulls two huge vertical millstones round a central post on a horizontal six foot millstone while his wife cradles their son. She joins her husband's work. The child wakes, chokes and dies (912). The dead firstborn are brought into the street by their wailing parents. Moses and the Israelites enter. Pharaoh tells them to leave (1050). " Der Auszug..." (1063). Outside the city gates: Pharaoh sits on a dais among a crowd. The exodus: an excited child runs out of the gates, followed by Aaron leading Moses, crowds of Israelites, a herd of goats and two camels (1171). Incomplete (1476ft). Note: The four surviving German intertitles have the Gaumont logo: a G in a ring of stars. They are numbered AL B 2375 2 to AL B 2375 5. Note: Also held: A 690ft viewing copy in faded colour 205627A. It consists of: Moses instructing Israelites; marking doors; Passover feast (133-582); A one foot glimpse of the black guard from the first scene; The exodus (1063-1171ft) The order on the viewing copy is currently B A C D

Moïse Sauvé des Eaux (Moses saved from the River)

Henri Andréani, Pathé, France, 1910, 8 mins
Moïse Sauvé des Eaux was the first of three silent Bible films shown at the Ancient World in Silent Cinema event last week. Despite the similarity of subject and proximity of production, it was noticeable how different all three films were.

As much as anything, this film stood out for its use of colour. Contrary to popular belief colour was fairly popular in silent films: the earliest films use colour filters or hand-tinted the prints to bring in colour, whilst two- and three-strip technicolour was in use during the 1920s. Given that this film was made in 1910 it was too early to be even two-strip technicolor. That said, the films in which I had seen hand-colouring used had done so fairly primitvely. Lots of colouring outside the lines and so on. By contrast, the colouring in was so impressive that I'm still not entirely convinced that this was a hand-tinted film, but so far no other explanation suffices.

The film itself starts with Amram working with his fellow Israelites when a messenger brings the edict from Pharaoh that male, Hebrew babies are to be executed. We see the message courtesy of an intertitle styled like a scroll which contrasts with Pathé's usual red text on a black background style. As his son will later do, Amram steps in to stop a fellow slave getting beaten and then makes his way home to warn his family.

Inside the house, Amram and his wife (who is identified as Jochebed) decide to hide Moses whilst Miriam and Aaron look on. Rather unusually they wrap him up in straw and hang him from a hook above head height. The Egyptian soldiers are soon upon them and proceed to stick a sword into anything that looks like it might contain a baby, even the bundle of straw on the hook next to Moses's. The scene is actually rather tense, all the more impressive given the audience already knows that Moses will survive.

An intertitle card quotes Hebrews 11:23 and we revert to the exterior shot outside Amram and Jochebed's house. Shortly afterwards we see Jochebed gather Moses and a basket and head to the river with Miriam. There basket and baby are placed in the reeds, where they remain (rather than being floated down the river as in most other Moses films) which is actually in keeping with Exodus 2:3. Miriam hides - rather poorly it must be added - to keep an eye on her little brother, and when Pharaoh's daughter and her entourage come along she is quick to offer her mother's services as a wet nurse. So little time has elapsed that Jochebed has not gone far and baby and mother are reunited. There's a brief introduction to the Pharaoh.

The portrayal of Amram is also interesting, as although he is usually portrayed as rather a passive figure, he is depicted here as more of a heroic character.

Campbell and Pitts make no mention of this film and even the BFI database gives it a mere paragraph.

DRAMA. Biblical. The story of Moses. No main title. Credit (2). The father of Moses is seen at work with the Israelites. An edict is read by Pharaoh's messenger announcing that all newborn male sons of the Israelites must be put to death. The Israelites are angered and return to their homes. Moses' father tells the family of the edict. Pharaoh's soldiers arrive to collect the newborn boys. Moses is hidden in a basket hanging from the roof. The soldiers enter but fail to find the child. The mother takes Moses and his sister takes a basket, they bid farewell to the distraught father and take the child to the Nile. There they set Moses adrift in the rushes. Pharaoh's daughter and her entourage arrive at the river to bathe. They discover the baby and Pharaoh's daughter adopts him. Moses' mother imposes herself on Pharaoh's daughter and offers her services as a wet nurse. Pharaoh's daughter agrees. On their return to court Pharaoh's daughter presents Moses to her father (707ft). Note: German titles.

Painting is Nicolas Poussin's "The Finding of Moses" from 1638.

La Sacra Bibbia (The Sacred Bible)The Story of Joseph in Egypt

Piero Antonio Garazzo, Vay-Film/Weiss Brothers, Italy, 1920, 9 mins.
The most recent of the films on display last Monday was La Bibbia: The Story of Joseph in Egypt, and it quickly became apparent that this was the case. The story starts with Pharaoh's dream and a primitive masking technique is used to show roaming cattle in a bubble above his head. A similar technique is also employed when Phraoh dreams about the fat and thin stalks of wheat.

Yet it's not just the special effects that chart the advance of cinema as an artisitic medium. We also see some point of view shots, or, at least, switching the angles back and forth during conversations with Pharaoh. Rather than the static stalls-view camera of the earlier films there are wide angle shots and close ups. The wide shots also illustrate another way in which the medium has changed. They are full with people. It's 4 years since D.W.Griffith's Intolerance and historical epics will henceforth boast about their casts of thousands. The various camera angles also reveal a lack of continuity. The number of Pharaoh's cohorts differs from shot to shot and so on.

But the most interesting shot is revserved for when Joseph is liberated from jail. The intertitles (which in this film never cite scripture) explain that Joseph will be shaved, and we cut to a scene of this happening. But as Joseph leaves his cell, one camera stays there and follows him upstairs, deftly anticipating his sudden rise to power. Indedd this is not the only time that a low camera looks up at a powerful figure - several shots of Pharaoh also employ this technique implying some form of deference to the ruler of Egypt. This is partly because Pharaoh sits atop a number of steps. In keeping with a number of painting produced prior to this film's release, Peter von Cornelius' picture (shown at the top of this post) features just two steps, but the film inflates this to somewhere between five and ten.

It's tempting to infer a great deal from the fact that that stroy starts with Pharaoh's dream and ends with Joseph overseeing the Egyptian grain (before the arrival of his family). But in reality, La Sacra Bibbia was a series of one-reel films of which Joseph was but one. Campbell and Pitts have this to say about ther series:

The Bible
1921-1922
Sacreed FIlms, Inc.
1 reel series B/W
Most of the stories from the |Old Testament are included in this series such as the story of Creation, Cain and Abel, and Noah's Ark. The one reelers, which came to a halt just before the start of the story of Moses, were produced by the Weiss Brothers, producers noted for cheap dramas and westerns whose careers spanned from the 1920s to the 1960s.

In addition to the above films, in 1928 Major Herbert M. Dawley directed a group of one- and two- reelers based on the life of Jesus Christ, but it is not known if they were released theatrically. Among the titles were "The Unwelcome Guest," "Forgive Us Our Debts," "The Rich Young Ruler" and "Christ Confronts His Critics."

The BFI Film and TV Database offers this:

DRAMA. Stories from The Bible. Three sections only. (202662A). The story of Joseph in Egypt. No main title. Pharoah's wise elders are unable to interpret his dreams of the cows and ears of grain. On the butler's advice, Pharoah summons Joseph from his prison cell. Joseph interprets Pharoah's dreams correctly as portending seven good harvests followed by seven lean ones. A grateful Pharoah appoints Joseph to oversee the collection and storage of grain during the years of plenty (808).
Note: The intertitles carry the production company name Vay.

Caïn et Abel (Cain and Abel)

Henri Andréani, Pathé, France, 1911, 5 mins
I'm not going to be able to find stills for many of these silent films, so I'll use images from the Renaissance paintings instead. This is not entirely without merit. As I mentioned on Tuesday Judith Buchanan pointd out how these early Bible films will have been influenced, to some degree at least, by the paintings of the events they were portrying. This is Il Tintoretto from 1550-53. Thanks to Art and the Bible and Loving God Center for these.

The opening scene of Caïn et Abel is a cramped shot of Cain and Abel arguing and almost coming to blows but for the intervention of Adam and Eve. It's a shot that's significant in a number of ways. Firstly, because much of this film is shot in a closer proximity than was standard for the time. The film is heavily marked with Pathé touches. Both its general 'look' and the style of the angels and the manner of their appearance etc. are all very familiar from The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ. But whereas those films stood at a distance as if the viewer were sat watching the production in a theatre, here there are a number of mid-shots.

The claustrophobia nature of these shots, which may have been shockingly groundbreaking at the time, not only adds to the tension but expresses it in spatial terms. There's a real sense of cabin fever - these four people are the only humans in the world and they are starting to get on each other's nerves. The composition is interesting elsewhere as well, using foregrounding and backgrounding quite effectively.

The opening shot is also significant because it introduces Adam and Eve into a story from the Bible in which they are not really involved. They are, of course, present in the narrative's prologue and epilogue, but their absence during the story itself has caused some scholars to suggest that the story itself has been incorporated, into the "J" source. It's notable, for example, that Adam's line grows from Seth rather than Cain.

The third point of significance here is that all four memberd of the family are portrayed as cavemen, wearing animal skins - Eve looks like an archetype for Raquel Welch's One Million BC role for example - but also later we see Cain's murder weapon is a flint axe. For obvious reasons these four characters cannot really be located at a specific point in the accepted chronology, but [edit] Gen 3:20 describes God using animal skins to make clothes for Adam and Eve as they leave the Garden of Eden. (Thanks to Timothy D. Lee for reminding me of that one - see comments below). [/edit]

What's striking, though, is the contrast with the Bible's early descriptions of Adam and Eve's attire - "and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons." (Gen 3:7). Here, however, dead animal has usurped dead fruit leaves, as Abel's animal sacrifice will prove superior to Cain's fruits of the ground.

Similarly, Cain is depicted as brutish, which is perhaps only to be expected, but also of low intelligence. Indeed, this is often used as a humourous device. And of course the timing is interesting given that the Cain and Abel story is currently doing the rounds in cinemas in Year One which is also a comedy.

So all in all, it's interesting to watch how the narrative unfolds from this opening. The intertitles for this print were in German: there are so few copies of films of this age that you have to make do with what you have. Some of them followed the practice of citing actual scriptures. Gen 4:4-5, Gen 4:10 and Gen 4:14 are all cited. There's a brief scene guide at the bottom.

God's rejection of Cain's sacrifice is shown by his sacrifice fire going out, whereas Abel's keeps on burning. IN contrast to the text of Genesis the murder takes place not in the field, but in the rock outcrop where the (attempted) sacrifices have just taken place. Cain goes and finds a flint axe and strikes Abel neither completely spontaneous, nor entirely premeditated.

As soon as Abel dies Cain is wracked with guilt. He covers the the body with stones, as if making an altar or a monument. There was something very Girardian about this. Girard's theory about sacrifice, which approach the subject via anthropology, talks about mimetic desire (the mechanism by which someone else having something makes another person want it), which is present to a degree here here in that the two sacrifices take place at the same time and in the same shot, though Cain wanted to make the sacrifice anyway. But more significantly it talks about how human sacrifice used to happen to heal discord within the community, and, crucially, how the graves (or the memory) of the murdered / sacrificed individual becomes sacred, and revered. I'm not sure I've explained that very well, but the manner in which the body was covered - far more elaborately than was stricly required to cover the body, grabbed my attention.

Of course God is not fooled, and an angel appears (accompanied by cardboard rays of light as in other Pathé films of the period, the line about Abel's blood crying out from the ground is given via intertitle and the body is revealed. Cain runs off, but then sees a vision of Abel's body, and then of the angel once more.

What's interesting about this is that Abel's appearance seems to be a demonstration of Cain's inner torment. I don't think Abel's body is meant to be physically present anymore than the dagger is physically present in Macbeth. This is the first time I have seen such psychologising in an early film - aside from that expressed in the faces of the actors. Does it also suggest that the angel he sees is also in his mind?

Lastly, there's quite a long shot at the end of the film of Cain dragging himself along the floor, through the narrow, muddy passageway between two rocks. It's fairly open to interpretation, but for me it symbolises both the journey he will undertake to Nod, and his now lowly status (he is dragging himself through the mud).

The scenes are as follows:

[Extra-biblical Episode - Cain and Abel argue]
Cain and Abel's sacrifices - (Gen 4:3-4)
Murder of Abel - (Gen 4:8b)
God confronts Cain - (Gen 4:9-14)
Cain flees to Nod - (Gen 4:15)

Campbell and Pitts only mention this film is passing (p.5) as part of their discussion of the 1910 film Cain and Abel by Gaumon. They also mention a third film on this story, also called Cain and Abel made in the US the same year (1911) by Vitagraph. The summary from the BFI archive, which formerly cited the film as 1909 is this:

The story of Cain and Abel. Cain and Abel and their parents, all dressed in skins, are standing around the camp fire. Cain argues with Abel but their mother, Eve, separates them and Adam sends him off (55). Cain and Abel both prepare to make sacrifices upon two stone altars. Abel sacrifices a lamb, which burns properly, but Cain's sacrifice of farm produce does not, and he throws it to the ground in disgust and envy. He makes threatening gestures towards Abel, who is praying at his sacrifice (129). Cain retreats a short distance and thinks about killing Abel, demonstrating how he will use his stone axe. Abel says a few words to him but when he turns his back Cain fells him with the axe, and covers his body with stone slabs (237). Cain is struck by lightning several times, and a shining ray appears from which an angel carrying a sword emerges. Cain cowers before the angel, who asks him what he has done. The angel points his sword at Cain, then causes the stones to fall from Abel's body. Cain rises and stumbles away (303). [Short section 297-298ft showing Cain rising to his feet, is repeated twice]. Cain clambers and stumbles over the rocks until he is stopped by a vision of Abel's body, which turns into the angel. The angel strikes Cain on the shoulder with his sword, and curses him, before disappearing (388). Cain crawls amongst the rocks, struggles through a wood, and falls to the ground (463). Blank. The end. (467ft. 35mm).

Report on Yesterday's "The Ancient World in Silent Cinema II" Event

Whilst I'll be posting a few individual comments on each of the silent Bible films over the next fortnight, I wanted to post some reflections on the day as a whole. The journey down was a dream giving me just enough time to write my review for Pamela Grace's new book "The Religious Film" (also to be posted shortly). Bloomsbury Theatre is just a short walk from St. Pancras station, so I was able to grab a sandwich in the hugely impressive Quaker HQ Friends House before getting back to the theatre in time for the opening session.

UCL's Maria Wyke is one of the two people behind this series of events (the other being Bristol's Pantelis Michelakis) and she gave a helpful introduction to the day's proceedings. I must admit I hadn't fully appreciated quite how complex projecting century old film on modern equipment is, so it was useful to be given a brief overview. There were apologies for the quality of the films, but, in actual fact they were far superior in quality to that which I had imagined. The detail was so much more apparent than on DVD (even when viewed with a projector). That said, in some cases such clarity highlighted the cheapness of the sets. I suppose that the earliest film makers may not have anticipated their films being shown on a large screen (and of course did not have a century of set-craft and location shooting to compare themselves against).

The first session started with A.E. Coleby's comedy Wanted - A Mummy. Whilst only part of the film was available it was very entertaining, and notable that the essence of the double act (tension between a strait-laced individual and his more outgoing relaxed partner; and the man with a plan leading his partner into calamity) was very much in place. I can't help but wondering if Laurel and Hardy might have been influenced by this film.

Next up was La Sposa del Nilo (Bride of the Nile - Italy 1911 - pictured above). Essentially this is a tragedy where a woman is thrown into the Nile to appease the Goddess Isis, much to the dismay of her fiancé. What surprised many of those present was that the man didn't manage to somehow save the day despite his best efforts. I did overhear one woman in the audience point out that if the heroine hadn't fainted so pathetically she could just have swum off! The contrast with the films that were to follow, though, was striking. Here was an angry God who needed appeasing with human sacrifice, and whose followers were so devoted that the hero is unable to save her. It's notable that the film concludes with a statement to the effect that the waters of the Nile returned. Our modern minds rightly ascribe this to coincidence, as would those of the original audience, but it's interesting that viewers would not be quite so unanimous in offering similar explanations for the cause and effect of the events in many biblical films. And of course the tragic ending makes an eloquent argument from silence for a benevolent, interventionist God - the 'true hero' of the rest of the biblical films.

The last of the non-biblical films was no less interesting. La Vergine di Babilonia (The Virgin of Babylon - Italy, 1910) featured the fictional Babylonian monarch Ninia who, like Isis in the previous film, desired a woman who is betrothed. But in contrast to the leading lady of that film, this picture's heroine, Esther, is feisty, determined, strong willed and not afraid to refuse the kings advances. What was of most interest to me about this film was the various way it evoked several stories from the Bible in order to add layers of meaning. Whilst the Bible is clear that Esther was, originally at least, a Babylonian name, one cannot hear it today without thinking of the Jewish girl who became queen of Babylon. The film's plot - where a king desiring a queen uses his men's force before requiring her to audition in some way, but with the end result being the queen gaining power and saving her own, previously threatened, life - bears a great deal of similarity. Likewise Esther's dress is in strong contrast to the other Babylonian woman: it is much more in line with the costumes worn by Jewish women from the Bible films of the period.

The other Bible story that this film calls upon is that of Daniel. Like Daniel Esther sticks to her moral code and is thrown into a den of lions as a result. The Lions refuse their lunch (the intertitle calls it a "miracle of miracles") and the people overthrow Ninia and proclaim Esther their queen, and she returns to her lover Joseph. The closing scenes also see Esther striking Christ-like poses.

Three Bible films followed (Cain et Abel, La Sacra Bibbia, Moïse sauvé des eaux) before a short comfort break. I was dying to ask if I could attempt to take some stills, but didn't quite find the courage / bare-faced cheek. When we returned we were told that we were over-running and that some films were going to be cut, including the two Jephthah's Daughter films. The reason? The projectionist had managed to work out how to show the films at the correct speed (something of a feat given that originally projectors and cameras would have been hand-wound). Whilst in many ways this was a shame, I think it was the correct decision. The chance to see these films as they were meant to be seen was a major benefit, and while I'll have to wait a bit longer to see a film about Jephthah, these films are available to view in the British National Film and Television Archives.

The remainder of the session saw the other two Moses films L'Exode and La vie de Moïse interspersed with The Life of Moses. All of the films on display were given an improvised accompaniment by pianist Stephen Horne, but it was the first of these where his work was at its very best. Improvised accompaniment is an interesting art form. When, as here, it is truly improvised - i.e. the musician has not seen the movie before at all - then the artist is simultaneously both part of the team of filmmakers, and part of the audience. The former is obvious: their work enhances the mood, entertainment and meaning of the film. But it's also true that they are (first time) viewers of the film. Whilst, aside from the odd gasp, chuckle or round of applause) convention dictates that the majority of the audience offer no immediate reaction, the musician acts as our spokesperson, reacting to what they see and swiftly working it into their accompaniment. I suspect that the reason I appreciated his work most - in L'Exode - is because this was also the film I found most startling, but I'll come to that in a day or two. The accompanist also plays another role interpreting the film for us. Music is so evocative (as superbly demonstrated by Christina Ricci's narration in The Opposite of Sex) that the accompanist has the power to change the meaning or mood of the film as well as simply enhancing it. Hence whilst they are part of the film-making team they also stand alone. The other filmmakers are no longer with us: the accompanist has the final word.

Anyway, Horne was excellent throughout, and deserved his many rounds of applause. He mainly used the piano, but also used an electric piano (replete with synth, harp and other sounds) as well as a flute, a piccolo and the unhammered strings of the piano. I can't help wondering if my brother Geoff Page (an Oxford Uni. music graduate) would love to give this kind of thing a try. I might have to try and rig it up next time we meet up.

The afternoon featured two, rather than the advertised three, lectures as Margaret Malamud had been taken ill. In actual fact two was all there was really time for. Indeed Judith Buchanan had to curtail her paper before she had a chance to talk about the Jesus films. Personally, I found her talk the more fascinating of the two. Much of it traced the development of Judith's portrayal in art which, as the wife of an artist, was right up my street. But her relaxed presentation style made her paper all the more enjoyable. It felt like we were being talked to rather than read to.

David Mayer's paper was also very interesting, talking about how architecture and dance in early ancient silent film owed a huge debt to the theatrical plays of the late 19th century, and traced the development of choreography in some of D.W.Griffith's films, including the 1914 Judith of Bethuliah and, of course, Intolerance. Mayer's knowledge was clearly immense, and it was a privilege to hear him speak, though he was hampered somewhat by his PowerPoint presentation. His book Stagestruck Filmmaker: D.W.Griffith and the American Theatre which explores these themes is due for release shortly (contrary to the Amazon site Mayer said it was still awaiting final publication).

After a brief break for tea we were treated to Samson et Dalila, La Reine de Saba, Giuditta e Oloferne, Judith, L'Aveugle de Jérusalem, and Vie De Jesus. The cuts to the advertised programme, as before, enabled the films to be shown at the correct speed and the event to finish on time, which was great news for those of us dashing off to catch trains. Somewhat annoyingly, my train home had been dredged up from the eighties, and didn't include any power points for me to plug my laptop into. Somehow I have to find time to write up my notes on the films before I forget it all.

Anyway, all in all it was a wonderful day out, and I'd like to offer my profound thanks to Maria Wyke, Pantelis Michelakis and everyone who worked to make yesterday happen. It was a fantastic event and I'm sure that the 150-200 in attendance enjoyed it just as much as I did.

Edit: The Bioscope has a great write up of the day's events as well.

Early Bible Film Screenings

UCL is hosting a second day's worth of silent historical films. The Ancient World in Silent Cinema will take place at London's Bloomsbury Theatre on Monday 22nd June and is free to anyone interested in attending. The first such event featured films set in ancient Greece & Rome; here the focus switches to Biblical and Egyptian films. In addition to screening 19 silent films, several of which I hadn't actually of, there are also 3 talks from David Mayer (Manchester University), Margaret Malamud (State University of New Mexico), and Judith Buchanan (York University). The full timetable is as follows:

AFTERNOON SCREENINGS (2-4PM):
Wanted a Mummy (UK 1910) 4 mins
Sposa del Nilo/ The Bride of the Nile (IT 1911) 11 mins
Vergine di Babilonia / The Virgin of Babylon (IT 1910) 9 mins
Caïn et Abel / Cain and Abel (FR 1911) 5 mins
Sacra Bibbia / The Sacred Bible (IT 1920), episode of ‘The Story of Joseph in Egypt’ 9 mins.
Moïse sauvé des eaux / Moses Saved from the River (Fr 1910) 8 mins
L’exode (FR 1910) 13 mins
La vie de Moïse (FR 1910) interspersed with Life of Moses (US 1909-10) 13 mins
Jephthah’s Daughter (US 1909) 6 mins
Jephthah’s Daughter (US 1913) 25 mins

TEA/COFFEE BREAK (4-4.30PM)

SPEAKERS (4.30-6PM)
David Mayer, Margaret Malamud and Judith Buchanan

EVENING SCREENINGS (7-9PM):
Samson et Dalila (FR 1902) 3 mins
Samson (FR 1908) 11 mins
David et Goliath (FR 1910) 8 mins
Reine de Saba / Queen of Sheba (FR 1913) 19 mins
Giuditta e Oloferne (IT 1908) 6 mins
Judith (FR 1910) 8 mins
Aveugle de Jérusalem / The Blind Man of Jerusalem (FR 1909) 8 mins
Vie de Jesus (FR 1905-14) 8 mins, episodes from childhood to transfiguration
Vie de Jesus (FR 1905-14) 18 mins, episodes from annunciation to ascension

I've got my train tickets booked for the event, and I know of at least one visitor to this blog who is also going. If anyone else decides to attend, please do come and say hello.

I've spoken to the event's organiser and though it's not possible to book tickets, they are fairlky confident that the 500 seat theatre will not sell out. I was also told that whilst the talks are informal and, thus, without specific titles, Mayer will be speaking about the films' relationships with other 19th century art forms, Malamud will be covering ancient Egypt and its reception more broadly at the beginning of the 20th century, and Buchanan will talk on the Jesus and Judith films.

Those of you that would love to join us, but sadly live on the other side of the world, will be pleased to know that the The Ancient World in Silent Cinema Research Project (of which this event is a part) is hoping to secure funding to digitise these films and eventually release a DVD, though this is still a very long way off.

"No Room at the Inn"

I've just been watching a snippet from The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ and something stood out to me that I'd not noticed before. Most dramatised versions of Jesus's birth, from our first experiences in school nativity plays through to multi-million dollar Hollywood movies, feature a moment with an innkeeper. "Sorry, there is no room at the inn" he says before tentatively offering Mary and Joseph his stable.

Whilst Hollywood may have dramatised this moment a little more effectively than the average nativity play, it's still, essentially, the same idea only with better costumes and (sometimes only marginally) better acting. This becomes particularly obvious when we view the original text from Luke 2:7 which simply says "and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn". There's no mention of the innkeeper, certainly no connection between the owner of what appears to be Bethlehem's only inn and the location of the manger.

So I was interested to note that in The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ it's not the innkeeper who suggest the stable, but some seemingly unconnected little girl on the street (pictured above). Which makes me wonder, was Life and Passion boldly subverting tradition in favour of fidelity to the original text? Or is it just that the tradition of the innkeeper was not as widely established 100 years ago as it is today? Given the film's pageant-like feel and it's reliance on traditional imagery the latter seems more likely. If so, it's interesting to see how quickly something can become so ingrained on the public consciousness.

Dan Castellaneta to Play DeMilleSands of Oblivion

Peter Chattaway has details of Anchor Bay's Sands of Oblivion which is being released on DVD next month. The story revolves around the set for DeMille's 1923 version of The Ten Commandments which was buried in the Californian desert upon the film's completion. DeMille joked at the time that "If, a thousand years from now, archaeologists happen to dig beneath the sands of Guadalupe, I hope they will not rush into print with the amazing news that Egyptian civilization, far from being confined to the banks of the Nile, extended all the way to the Pacific coast of North America."

It seems that DeMille's words became something of a self-(un)fulfilling prophecy. In 1983 filmmaker Peter Brosnan and archaeologist John Parker, began a quest to find the ruins in the sand dunes of Guadalupe, California. This new film has nothing to do with them, as far as I know. It's a horror film / conspiracy drama which is partially set in 1923 but also follows the fortunes of a "soon-to-be divorced archaeologist couple Jesse and Alice Carter". According to this movie, the reason that DeMille buried the set was nothing to do with foiling his competitors but because "the set holds the spirit of a vengeful Egyptian god, trapped in a smuggled artifact".It's certainly an unusual premise and I guess it'll be a combination of The Mummy, Stargate and Shadow of the Vampire. There are various interesting characters in the cast, including George Kennedy (from perhaps my favourite film Cool Hand Luke), but the most interesting casting choice, to me at least is that of Dan Castellaneta as Cecil B. DeMille. Castellaneta has made his name in The Simpsons but his face and his normal speaking voice are largely unknown. SO in some ways despite his fame he's a fresh face.

And the interesting thing is that he actually looks a wee bit like DeMille as well. The baldness clearly helps, and the photo of DeMille below doesn't make the similarity as obvious as some pictures of him from around 1923, but nevertheless it will be interesting to see how he plays the role. There's obviously a good deal of footage of DeMille around - not least from the opening to his 1956 remake of the film in question.

Podcast: The King of Kings (1927)

After a late night session early this morning, I've finally managed to upload the latest Jesus film podcast. This month I'm talking about Cecil B. DeMille's The King of Kings from 1927.

So far, there have been twelve talks in this particular podcast. It's not too late to download the other eleven:Jesus of Nazareth, Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo, The Greatest Story Ever Told, Jesus of Montreal, Jesus Christ Superstar, The Miracle Maker, Il Messia, King of Kings, Last Temptation of Christ, Life and Passion of Jesus Christ and Jesus (1999).

Podcast: Life and Passion of Jesus Christ (1905)

My latest Jesus film podcast on Life and Passion of Jesus Christ. It's the tenth talk that I've done. The other nine (Jesus of Nazareth, Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo, The Greatest Story Ever Told, Jesus of Montreal, Jesus Christ Superstar, The Miracle Maker, Il Messia, King of Kings and Last Temptation of Christ are all available to download.

It's been a while since I wrote about this film so it was good to revisit it again.

DeMille's Collaborations Redux

I've mentioned the great Cecil B. DeMille in two posts recently, and I've done a bit of searching on them so I thought I'd refer back.

The first was regarding Michael Curtiz. Peter Chattaway noted some similarities between Curtiz's Noah's Ark (1928) and DeMille's The Ten Commandments (1923). When I was preparing to write my review of Noah's Ark I came across some more information which suggested that the influence could have worked in both directions.

Yesterday I was flicking through the the substantial liner notes for the Criterion Collection's release of DeMille's 1927 The King of Kings when I noticed some information regarding Noah's Ark. It seems DeMille was due to work on a similar project about Noah in 1926 called The Deluge, but the plug was pulled when DeMille got wind of Curtiz's project. This shows the two were at least partially aware of each other's work, and that execs then preferred to stop making a film if it was too similar to another (rather than go head to head as often happens today).

Interestingly neither DeMille's autobiography, nor Charles Higham's biography mention Curtiz at all (at least, not in their indicies).

Which leads me nicely onto the second post about DeMille to which I want to return. Last week I commented on a piece in the The Villages Daily Sun newspaper which claimed that DeMille made films with Edgar J. Banks (dubbed the original Indiana Jones). As with Curtiz there's no mention of Banks in the autobiography and Higham's book.

I also (finally!) got hold of Henry S. Noerdlinger's book "Moses and Egypt: The Documentation to the Motion Picture the Ten Commandments" about the 1956 DeMille film. Again, despite the depth of information produced in this book, there's no mention of Banks. Admittedly, DeMille's later version of this film was not released until 10 years after Bank's death, but if DeMille and Banks really were working on films together it's strange that nothing Banks achieved merited a mention in Noerdlinger's book.

That's not, at all, to say the story is a hoax, simply that if it is true it was one very well kept secret.

I'll end on a trivia piece. DeMille made bible films with Banks, who was the inspiration for the Indiana Jones films made by Steven Spielberg, who also directed Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which included a clip from the 1956 Ten Commandments - a bible film directed by DeMille. I hope those people who love making these kind of links appreciate that one. I wonder if DeMille ever pondered making a film about Banks?

Did Edgar J. Banks make films with Cecil B. DeMille?

Peter T. Chattaway has a piece on claims that Indiana Jones-style archaeologist Edgar J. Banks (right) made films with Cecil B. DeMille. (How that for a string of initialised middle names?).

The story surfaced at The Villages Daily Sun paper in Florida. Here's the interesting bit:

[Banks] made motion pictures with famed director Cecil B. DeMille

"They were involved in a company known as Sacred Films," Wasilewska [Banks' biographer] said. "The films were not only 'Sacred,' they were secret. The company wasn’t registered anywhere. But it really did exist."

That incredible claim is supported by about 200 old movie stills from sets of Biblical epics Banks’ late daughter, Daphne McLachlan, left to her children.

"In 1920, at the beginning of moviemaking, a lot of people were making movies about Biblical events. But they were all poor-quality, low-budget productions," Wasilewska said. "This was very different. This was high-class, very professional. It was a secret company, but many important people were involved, including famous actors and actresses."

What became of the films is one of many puzzles related to Banks. Banks’ next endeavor is also shrouded in mystery.

"With the experience he got in California, he saw he could start a company in Florida to produce his own films," Wasilewska said. "He used local actors, and so it would not be very expensive."

Banks’ company, Seminole Films, made movies depicting life in ancient Rome and Greece, but the world never saw the films. In a weird twist of irony, the archaeologist who brought so many treasures out of the ground, deposited his cinematic efforts into the earth.

"He actually did make some movies, but none were released," Wasilewska said. "He opened this company and he couldn’t sell the movies he made, so one day he packed all of the movies in tin cans and buried them on his property."

The movies were never recovered.

I'll try and remember to check my DeMille biography and auto-biography to see if there is any mention of Banks. I may also check the credits for DeMille's 1923 version of The Ten Commandments to see if Banks is mentioned there at all.

Noah's Ark (1928) - Review

Noah's Ark came at the end of two distinctly different eras in the cinema. Firstly the age of the silent movie was drawing to a close. The Jazz Singer had opened everyone's eyes to the potential of talking pictures and both cinemas and studios alike were making the necessary changes to take advantage of the new technology.

In the meantime studios were stuck with the problem of what to do with half finished films which had been, thus far, shot as silents, but risked being seen as outmoded unless drastic action was taken. The solution that many studios took was to complete some of the remaining scenes with sound so that the films were part silent but also part talking. Hitchcock's The Lodger, where only the opening sequence is silent, is one famous example, particularly because it's so innovative with its use of sound.

In Noah's Ark, however, sound occurs more haphazardly. Characters talk, but then go back to miming again moments later. The soundtrack takes advantage of the new technology more effectively using sound effects to complement the action to good effect.

It was also the end of the first golden age of the biblical epic, which, despite the popularity of bible based films since the dawn of cinema, had peaked during the 1920s. The director of Noah's Ark, Michael Curtiz, had already made his name with a string of biblical films including Sodom und Gomorrah, Samson und Delila¹ (both 1922) and Die Sklavenkönigin (The Moon of Israel - 1924). The following year DeMille's The Ten Commandments had been a huge success and the great showman has followed it up four years later with his version of the life of Jesus in The King of Kings.

DeMille's movies, as well as others such as Ben Hur (1925) set new benchmarks for production scale, and Noah's Ark certainly follows suit. The size of some of the sets, and the impressive special effects are truly awesome. The scenes of the flood, complete with a storm and torrents of water appearing from nowhere, are truly impressive. Tragically the quest for drama went too far and several extras were drowned during the filming of these scenes.

The problem with the ever-growing spectacle of the biblical epics was that the depression was just around the corner - something that, bizarrely, this film seems to predict. The combination of reduced cash flow, and the birth of the Hays Production Code brought the end to the first golden age of the biblical epic. The trend would not really get going again until the 1950s. By then Curtiz had moved into more film making including now classic films such as Casablanca and White Christmas.

It's actually the modern story which is overarching in this film. Whilst there is a brief prologue which features footage of Noah, a statue of Jesus and a montage of stock market clips, the story proper starts in 1914. In the first of the film's three catastrophes, a train carrying the major characters crashes and a young, blond German girl (Mary) is pulled from the wreckage by buddies Travis and Al. Travis and Mary fall instantly in love, but their relationship is threatened by the outbreak of the first world war and a Russian spy who had also been aboard the train. Despite getting married the couple are separated due to the war, and are not reunited until Mary finds herself in front of Travis' firing squad. An explosion intervenes and leaves the couple trapped by the rubble along with an old preacher who tells them the story of Noah.

This then forms the context for the Noah story. The actors from the first part of the film take similar roles in the Noah story (à la The Wizard of Oz): so Noah is played by the same actor as the old preacher; Travis and Al pair up with Japheth and Ham; Mary doubles as Japheth's sweetheart, Miriam; and the Russian spy is the evil, idol-worshipping King Nephilim. The minor actors also double up in a similar fashion.

However, the story of Noah is just a pretext for a re-run of the Travis-Mary story. Miriam is chosen at random to be sacrificed to King Nephilim's God Jaguth. When Japheth comes to her rescue he is enslaved only to be freed by the arrival of the flood. Once the pair are safely aboard the ark, the script reverts, almost immediately, to the end of the modern story.

It's difficult to know quite how much Curtiz was influenced by DeMille and vice versa. Around the early 1920s both men borrowed D.W. Griffith's idea of paralleling a biblical story with a modern melodrama. Curtiz's Sodom und Gomorrah and Samson und Delila seem to have come out slightly before DeMille's The Ten Commandments, but Curtiz's Moses film
Die Sklavenkönigin (The Moon of Israel) definitely came out afterwards. But given the time taken to film such large scale films, and that the two men were working in different continents at the time it's certainly possible that the two were almost completely unaware of what the other was doing.

What is clear, however, is the way in which Curtiz draws on aspects of all three of these previous films in making Noah's Ark. There are a myriad of visual and textual references to other biblical stories, especially those he had already filmed, as well as some to the story of Jesus. So there are people crushed under golden calves, climbing up mountains, burning bushes, lightning writing on tablets, people being blinded and forced to drive a mill, falling temples, water falling lava like from above engulfing those in its path, stabbings in the side, references to Golgotha, and words taken from the Lord's prayer.

Unfortunately, in the midst of all these biblical references the actual story of Noah is lost. The old preacher's story gets so taken up in pagan temples, dramatic floods, and the love between the protagonists that it's unlikely it helped those he'd sought to illuminate. The film never gets behind the character of Noah and has precious little to say about the events that occurred once everyone was on board.

It's a shame because some of the film's sequences are incredibly well executed. In particular the scene where the animals rush towards the ark, capturing the urgency and the chaos of the scene is masterful. DeMille would have shown animals marching in in precise double file. Here Curtiz is more than happy to adhere a little more loosely to a literal reading. This makes the scene far more natural and realistic, as well as putting it in line with idea of the animals being sent by God rather than gathered by Noah.

Unfortunately the film's weakness detract from such merits. The modern story is mediocre and overly melodramatic, whereas the Noah episode gets lost in its own technical proficiency. It was the last time Curtiz made a biblical epic, and the last time a film solely about Noah made it onto the silver screen.

1 - The extent to which Curtiz was involved in Samson und Delila is unclear some sources list him as only the costume designer, whereas others list him as supervising director and credit him with the film's success.

Peter Chattaway on Noah's Ark (1928)

Yesterday I mentioned that I was going to post on some of the film portrayals of Noah in the run up to the release of Evan Almighty. One of the film's I plan to cover later this week is Michael Curtiz's 1928 film Noah's Ark.

Anyone eager to find out about that particular film may be interested to read Peter Chattaway's observations on it which he posted yesterday. In particular he notes the similarities with DeMille's 1923 film The Ten Commandments. There are a few clips from it as well which will fascinate anyone who has longed to see this film.

16mm Version of Intolerance For Sale on Ebay

I discussed D.W. Griffiths' 1916 epic Intolerance last week. Since then I've discovered a 16mm version of it has gone for sale at eBay . Thought some who frequents the site might be interested.