Manslaughter

Leatrice Joy is the rich, careless girl who runs down a police officer; Thomas Meighan is the District Attorney who is first her lover, and then her prosecutor; Lois Wilson is the subplot, Miss Joy's maid, placed in prison for stealing Miss Joy's jewelry and pawning them....so she can send her sick son, under doctor's orders, to a warm climate. Meighan suggests mercy rather than justice to Miss Joy, but at first she's too angry, and later, too hung over.

There are the usual Demille scenes of people having a great time getting drunk in wild costumes, and even worse, dancing; later, during Meighan's summing up, there's a flashback sequence in which barbarians in hairy vests and winged helmets break into where the Vestal Virgins are sleeping one off. Finally, there's redemption for the ladies in vague homilies and multi-denominational Christianity. Meanwhile, Meighan has been been going through his own spiral, thanks to the demon rum, but there's hope even for him, in the love of a good woman.

My vague and sarcastic gassing is not intended to put down this version, so much as to be entertaining while giving away as little as possible to those who have not seen this movie. Let's be honest: there are some people whose opinion is worthwhile, who claim this is the worst movie Demille ever made. I can see why. It's at the end of his cavort-for-six-reels-and-repent-in-the-seventh phase, and the public was growing a tad tired of them by this point. I don't think it's worse than any of the others. In fact, I think it rather typical. Had public tastes not changed, he would have kept on making them.

No, if there are issues, it's that remaining with the same format meant Demille's evolution from one movie to the next had to be incremental rather than revolutionary. Also, I don't think Miss Joy brings much to the part that a more skilled comedienne might have. However, Bebe Daniels was off doing comedies for another division of Paramount, and Gloria Swanson likewise. Contrariwise, Meighan is fine, and Miss Wilson, while poorly served, doesn't let the side down. The result is an entertaining movie that if not the overwhelming success that Demille had grown used to by this point, is certainly worth your time.

Pretentious, preachy, magazine-style "sob story" film delivers on all its basic promises, which are few. There's the obligatory "Roman Orgy" scene, of course. Well, the "hero" is, although he's the D.A., inexplicably hanging out at a "bootlegger" party, and he starts spouting off about how awful it all is -- girls racing on pogo sticks!!! -- just like ancient Rome. He comes off as self-righteous and boring. Later on in the film, he becomes a self-righteous, boring drunk, and the girl he sent to prison for manslaughter "saves" him (!). Best scene: the cop on the bike flipping over a car.

The greatest pleasure of this fun DeMille classic is the sublime performance of the radiant Leatrice Joy. From the great opening shot, of her speeding along in her roadster, to the final clinch, she eats up the screen with her energy and, dare I say it, joy of living! Joy was more than just a substitute for Gloria Swanson in DeMille's films - she brought a different sort of vigour to her roles, a true Jazz Age energy that Clara Bow would later build upon. She is certainly an actress that deserves to be re-discovered.

The story, of a shallow fun-loving rich girl discovering that the true meaning of life is service to others, is rather too moral to be taken seriously - especially as DeMille can't help creating two completely gratuitous, but highly enjoyable, "flash-backs" to Ancient Rome, featuring wild orgies (and even a lesbian kiss!!). It's the usual clash between DeMille's fascination with sex and sado-masochism and his need to moralise against such things.

It all adds up to a visually stunning entertainment. Don't miss it!

The plot, even if a little dragged out, would be allright; we just can no longer stand seeing - especially in the scenes of ancient Rome (which are by the by perfectly unnecessary) - everyone waving their arms like madmen, and - not all through the film, I must say, but in a consistent part of it - the actors too often resorting to those stereotyped gestures that characterize many films of the first (and last) silent cinema: gestures probably taken from contemporary theatre, but - since in silent cinema, by definition, no words could be uttered - exaggeratedly amplified to be sure of getting the message across.

Other powerful means were also available to early cinema: just think of close-ups, or the expression of a face... Similar cinematic tricks were not possible in the theatre: they were some of the tools of cinema as a new means of expression, or - in rare cases - art.

Among the filmmakers, some realized it earlier, some later...

While vacationing in Europe, movie director Cecil B. DeMille had been laid low with rheumatic fever, ruining his trip. He wasn't quite recovered when he returned to direct what film historians claim is his worst film, September 1922's "Manslaughter." There are variety of reasons for the ignominious crown in the director's palette of movies, most of which occurred in front of his camera.

It wasn't due to the lack of research in the preparation of the Jeanie MacPherson script, based on woman suffragette Alice Miller's 1921 novel of the same name. MacPherson wanted to experience the process being booked for a crime and living in jail as the protagonist, played by Leatrice Joy, had experienced in the story. DeMille approved of a scheme to have her get arrested for stealing a friend's fur, who was also in on the act, and be a prisoner for a few days. The police eventually found out about the ploy and released her. But the experience, details which were incorporated in her screenplay, jolted MacPherson so much she wrote an article titled 'I Have Been In Hell.'

So what makes "Manslaughter" so campy? The over-the-top dramatics of several actors, especially Thomas Meighan, the boyfriend lawyer of the carefree Lydia, is one whose dramatics is reminiscent of a bygone era. He sees his girlfriend headed down a slippery slope because of her wild behavior even before she accidentally kills a police officer during a high speed chase. He readily voluteers to be the prosecuting attorney charging her with manslaughter. His motive: to get her life back in order. After her conviction and imprisonment, Meighan displays such inner turmoil that one could see his neck blood vessels almost burst.

Even Leatrice Joy's performance is reminiscent of those seen in film during the early 1900's. The actress claimed she based her screen persona on attending a Los Angeles trial of a woman up for murder. But Joy's melodramatics carry such heady mannerisms that when someone showed the movie at her daughter's birthday 40 years after "Manslaughter" was released, the former actress "thought it was hilarious."

Of course, what would a DeMille movie be without a spectacular scene or two. In two fantasy sequences paralleling the plot, one has Joy overseeing an ancient Roman drunken fest where all participants are passed out, only to be intruded by aggresive barbarians. The other is a dream sequence where Joy shoots her boyfriend at a heavily-attended trial, sending the courtroom spectators scurrying around like disturbed ants.