The Whispering Chorus

The Whispering Chorus is one of a number of standout films in Cecil B. DeMille's 1910s output, and for some marks the end of an era in his work. It is also perhaps the darkest and most noir-ish story he ever dealt with.

Dark stories call for bleak imagery, and visuals are particularly stark here – plenty of barren sets or large areas of darkness. Furthermore with the psychological conflict going on DeMille makes heavy use of superimpositions. DeMille had always used these a lot to literalise products of his characters' imaginations, but here he goes a bit overboard and occasionally they are unnecessary. The eponymous whispering chorus (which is pretty much superfluous to the story anyway) is shown as a cloud of floating heads – not really necessary when the actors alone competently convey the anguish that their characters feel.

Although he is not really known for it, DeMille was probably the best director of actors during this period (as opposed to his sound films which tend to be wall-to-wall ham). It is not only that he seems to have encouraged a satisfactory blend of realism and dramatism, it was also his use of long, unbroken takes and intelligent framing of actors. In The Whispering Chorus his handling of more emotional scenes is particularly sensitive, cutting to close-ups at key moments to highlight an actor's face. DeMille also tends to keep the sets Spartan and uncluttered for a poignant scene, allowing the audience to concentrate solely on the performers.

Let's take a closer look at the lead actor. The first thing that strikes you about Raymond Hatton is what a thin face he has, and how he seems to have a permanent disappointed expression. But look beyond that, and you can see he is actually a pretty good actor – certainly better than his co-star Kathlyn Williams. Hatton is one of a number of silent stars who drifted out of the spotlight only to turn up absolutely everywhere as a character actor in the sound era – he is quite memorable as the "murderous impulses" barber in Fritz Lang's Fury. He made dozens of appearances for DeMille, but The Whispering Chorus is his greatest moment, both in terms of the demands placed on him as an actor and the performance he turns in.

Some have labelled this as the last film in which DeMille kept his artistic integrity before giving way to commercialism. This is not really true, as pleasing the audience had always been top of his agenda, and his subsequent films do not differ a whole lot in style, although he would use superimpositions a lot less from here on, which is a good thing. It is true however that his next picture, Old Wives for New, marks the beginning of a series of rather lightweight marital comedies, after which his work would be full of the piety and sensationalism with which he is now associated.

Whatever the case, The Whispering Chorus stands as one of DeMille's greatest accomplishments. It does overuse those superimposed images, but this is really the only complaint. Underneath that is a strong and very grim drama. Noir-ish and dark, yes, but it has a poignant, bittersweet edge, hitting a lot of the same notes as George Stevens' A Place in The Sun.

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.

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.

Back in the day movie directors weren't household names as they are today. Besides comedians Charlie Chaplin and Roscoe Arbuckle, directors of their own movies, the general public was largely unfamiliar with those helming their films behind the camera--that is with the exception of Cecil B. DeMille. Producing a string of successful films, DeMille purposely didn't pigeonhole himself into one particular genre. His March 1918 "The Whispering Chorus," an expressionistic, psycho thriller, proved the director was bold enough to branch out into areas rarely addressed in cinema up to this point.

"The Whispering Chorus" pleased movie critics with its stylized sophistication, bolstered by his art director Wilford Buckland, who created a darkened aura of what could be labeled a noir world where a devious act leads to life changing events. Buckland's Renaissance lighting highlights the leading character's angst of his act while secondary details lurking in the background augment his anxiety.

An underpaid account clerk for a large construction company embezzles a few thousand dollars to sustain his family while a panoply of voices in his head, the whispering chorus, lend him conflicting advice. He disappears when an investigation into the short account begins, leaving his bewildered wife. He devises a scheme when he comes upon a dead body to make it appear the corpse is him. Caught later with the clerk's ID, he's charged unbeknownst to police of killing himself.

Longtime screenwriter to DeMille, Jeanie Macpherson, adapted her intriguing script from a Perley Sheehan story, which could easily be confused with a later Raymond Chandler or James Cain potboiler. Her scenario gave DeMille the chance to frame a series of symbolic images throughout, including rose pedals falling to the floor as an electronic switch is pulled.

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.