The Whispering Chorus

DeMille's Whispering Chorus is a haunting masterpiece that was ahead of it's time. The story line is highly creative - how the voices in your head can ruin your life. Basically, one man's degradation due to his cowardliness. This movie will make you think, which is exactly what DeMille intended. All in all, an excellent pre-20's silent film.

Raymond Hatton gives a fine performance as John Tremble. His change from a handsome upstanding man to a dirty tramp on the run is wonderfully done through make up - if compare a still of him from the first section of the film to a still from the end of the picture, he is almost unrecognizable as the same actor.

Kathryn Williams was a very attractive woman, and she portrays the role of Jane Tremble with delicacy. My personal opinion is that at the end of the movie, she acts in a very selfish manner, however, I think this is my 21st century eyes viewing early 20th century morals and is probably not the effect that DeMille, or screen writer Jeanie MacPhearson had in mind.

Thanks to Image entertainment, this 1918 film is available on DVD for new audiences to enjoy.

Raymond Hatton is "John Tremble - 2nd Assistant Cashier of the Clumley Contracting Company." He hears voices from the Hall of Echoes. Kathlyn Williams is "Jane Tremble - his wife." Eventually, she will hear voices of her own. Elliott Dexter is "'Fighting' George Coggeswell - A far-seeing young legislator who heads a commission with extraordinary powers to investigate the muddy waters of the state's politics." He tilts the scale of justice with pipe ashes.

Mr. Hatton is stuck in a $25 a week dead end job, with no hope for the future; living with his mother (Edythe Chapman) he is unable to even buy a cheap little dress for Ms. Williams, for Christmas. To make ends meet, Mr. Hatton embezzles $10.000 from his company. Plagued by guilt (and an investigation), Hatton drops out of sight, for a couple of days. Whilst fishing, he reels in a dead man, and decides to exchange identity with the deceased Edgar Smith. He becomes Smith, and very unwisely (as it turns out) frames him for both the Tremble embezzlement, and the murder of Tremble - so that he may achieve martyrdom. Then, he becomes a fugitive…

This is an epic psychological drama; always interesting, it slowly becomes more and more unnerving, even horrific. The crescendo of images and plot build wildly, to an INTENSE ending. The film sometimes appears to be off-track, but winds up a tightly woven nightmare. There are SO MANY images to praise - but, just watch... Also, look for the cross-cutting as Hatton fishes for a dead body while Dexter fishes for Tremble - then, later, Tremble hooks up with a Chinatown prostitute while his wife marries Dexter.

Director Cecil B. DeMille and the production team are in peak condition. Hatton, remembered mainly as a "supporting" or "character" actor, performs supremely in the lead role; he effectively portrays the "slow acid of discontent steadily consuming" the soul of John Tremble. Williams shows some psychological problems of her own. Noah Berry has an important role as a longshoreman who guiltily houses Hatton, after unintentionally crippling him.

It's difficult to believe this film was released in 1918, and has received relatively little acclaim. It's a NOT TO BE MISSED silent classic.

********** The Whispering Chorus (3/28/18) Cecil B. DeMille ~ Raymond Hatton, Kathlyn Williams, Elliott Dexter, Noah Berry

This 82 minute silent film directed by Cecil B. DeMille was somewhat ahead of its time, being a serious attempt to film a drama of conscience in all its harrowing complexities. The 'whispering chorus' of the title consists of the rival impulses of the anti-hero, John Tremble, who is played by Raymond Hatton. A filmic device was used which may seem corny to us today, but at the time was doubtless very effective and perhaps innovative, namely the appearance on screen of diaphanous heads of good and bad people whispering to Tremble in his ear things like 'go ahead and do it' or 'an honourable person would not do such a thing'. Tremble is a man who is a bit too narcissistic for his own good, which is all too familiar to us today with the rise of smart phones from which people cannot extract their noses. Preoccupation with 'self' to the exclusion of all else has possibly become today's main social psychological problem. But in 1918 this ailment was still in its traditional form, known as selfishness. Tremble gives way to the bad voices of his whispering choruses and because he feels so sorry for himself and his lack of a new overcoat, steals some money from his employer. He has previously gambled away his last few dollars and staged a petulant scene at home in front of the miniature Christmas tree and his long-suffering wife and mother, tossing aside their small presents as being insignificant. Such spoilt-brat behaviour is bound to lead to doom, and as doom is always eagerly waiting for people to fall into it (as it has an insatiable maw) the anti-hero duly sinks into hopeless moral compromise. He disdains what he has got, namely a devoted wife and happy home, and wants what he cannot readily have except by theft. But then his theft is discovered and, to avoid going to jail, he fakes his own death and absconds to Cincinnati. (All of the action takes place in cities along the river, though the only locations we see are waterside ones.) He lives the life of a labourer and vagabond, becomes maimed and disfigured, and has a very rough time. Meanwhile his wife (played by Kathlyn Williams) has obtained a well paid job and after some years remarries a man who becomes the Governor of his state (played by Elliot Dexter). Tremble, having 'killed himself', then ironically ends up being caught many years later and charged with his own murder, as he is assumed to be the other man (whose body he had fished out of the river dead, and had not killed). All the complications one can imagine result from this state of affairs. The film is thus a very early 'film noir'. It is certainly not cheerful viewing. This film was preserved and restored by my old friend Dave Shepard, who died earlier this year. I would like to pay tribute to him, as a genuine hero of the history of the cinema. We knew each other when we were young. By a strange coincidence, when I was seventeen I independently met and befriended the stage actor John Griggs, one of the most passionate early collectors and preservers of old movies. It was only afterwards that I met Dave. It turned out that John Griggs had been Dave's mentor from the time he was a boy, as they lived near each other in New Jersey. I may be the only person left alive now who knew John Griggs, who was himself such a delightful and amusing man and enthusiast for early cinema. He had amassed over the decades a gigantic collection of 35mm prints of silent films, and this collection passed to Dave, giving him a huge head start in his career as a film preservationist. I well remember a short documentary film which Dave directed in his early twenties about children's games. He shot it mostly in a playground on 16mm in black and white and made a serious effort to understand children's mentality. It was very charming. He was always basically a sentimentalist. That film is not listed at IMDb, and I have forgotten its title. I am certain it was never distributed, and Dave was n t satisfied with it; indeed, I liked it better than he did. This DeMille film is not included in the partial list of restorations by Dave in his Wikipedia entry, but then he restored so many, there is probably no complete list of them in existence. Who knows, maybe the original print came from John Griggs. Dave and I used to discuss Eisenstein, Buster Keaton, and D. W. Griffith endlessly, and also foreign films. It was René Clément's FORBIDDEN GAMES (1952), which we both so greatly admired, which inspired Dave to want to make his own little documentary about children's games. All true cinema lovers owe a debt to Dave Shepard which they can only repay by watching as many as possible of the films which Dave loved so much and to which he dedicated his life to save and preserve for others to enjoy. Here's to you, Dave.

This very early film by Cecil B. DeMille presents quite a moral problem. A man, working a thankless job and having trouble providing for his wife and mother, decides to embezzle some money. Knowing he is going to be discovered, he takes off and hides in a makeshift shelter. As he goes fishing he discovers a dead man who is up against the shoreline. Basically, he uses the dead man as part of a plot to take pressure off himself. This is well crafted with the final act done as only it could be. The acting is pretty good for early silent era. The technique of using ghostly characters is hit an miss. It's like the old cartoons where an angel and a devil occupy two opposing shoulders. Not a bad silent film.

Cecil B. DeMille himself described this early feature as one of the first 'psychological' films ever made, but it's actually a more-or-less typical late-Victorian Age cautionary fable, expressed (as might be expected) with a heavy dose of morality and melodrama. The story shows how a single moment of weakness (in this case the desperate embezzlement of $1,000 by a poverty-stricken bookkeeper) will ultimately lead to misfortune, and worse. Haunted by a guilty conscience, the long-suffering victim gambles away (in the following order) his savings, his self-respect, his family, and finally his own identity. Reduced at last to a penniless, crippled vagrant, he is finally arrested and, after a series of misunderstandings, charged with his own murder! Most of the heavy-handed exposition and delivery is hilarious when seen today, and the inadvertent humor kills the lingering impact of the film's often striking (for 1918) visual artistry.