O Sinal da Cruz

Cecil B. DeMille was famous for the excesses he depicted on screen, and "The Sign of the Cross" has enough excess for a dozen movies by any other director. Fortunately, DeMille loved to detail the debauchery that warranted divine punishment, because he was more adept and entertaining when portraying orgies than he was when depicting piety. Perhaps sin is intrinsically more interesting than virtue. Certainly the sinful characters, especially Charles Laughton as Nero and Claudette Colbert as Poppaea, are riveting and colorfully conceived. Laughton lolls around on his divans, while alluring slave boys attend to his whims. Colbert lures and tempts lovers when not catering to her bare flesh in a milk bath. Bloody gladiatorial games and the obligatory feeding Christians to the wild beasts keep the proceedings on track, and an erotic Lesbian dance enlivens an otherwise dragging orgiastic gathering. Orgies can be difficult to film because the delights are far more evident to participants than they are to viewers. Perhaps every orgy needs a Lesbian dance.

Unfortunately, DeMille felt compelled to throw away screen time on a group of early Christians, whose idea of a good time was to sit on rocks, sing tuneless songs, and listen to a motivational speaker. Naturally, the improbably named Marcus Superbus, played by Frederic March in a fetching mini-skirt and tight curls, falls in love with Mercia, a bland, but virginal, Elissa Landi, and he rejects the advances of the milky, silky Claudette Colbert, who had been around the Colosseum a few times. Of course, March not only rejects Colbert, but risks losing the endless parties and his own rising career for the touch of Landi's soft hand. "The Sign of the Cross" is hardly convincing drama despite the lure of Romans sinning every way, everywhere, and with everybody.

If the corny dialog and stilted scenes of pious proceedings had been severely cut and Laughton's and Colbert's roles had been brought to center focus, the film would have been a delicious camp spectacle. However, as the film now plays, viewers must patiently wait out the dull-as-drying-paint scenes with Landi and company to savor the sinful delights of Nero and Poppaea, which make "The Sign of the Cross" worth a look and a hoot or two.

1932 – the height of the depression, Paramount studios in financial straits, Hollywood's output limited to small-scale dramas and bedroom comedies – and Cecil B. DeMille decides to make an epic. There are many classics among the "small" pictures of the early-30s, but it's good to see that someone was, against all odds, still carrying the torch for grandeur and spectacle.

Of course, Sign of the Cross is still an epic of its poverty-stricken time. There are no stupendous sets or masses of extras, but DeMille always knew how to make our eyes deceive us. A huddle of a dozen people filling the screen looks like a crowd. Five men on horseback shot from a low angle looks like a stampede. In the scene where Titus and Favius first meet, the camera wheels round and backs away at the same time, giving the impression that the street scene is much more than a cramped indoor set. And DeMille's use of lighting (here courtesy of Karl Struss who was Oscar-nominated for his efforts) really pays off, with fuzzy half-light and shadows disguising the lack of lavishness.

Better yet, the constrained budget seems to have pushed DeMille to concentrating more on the poetry and beauty of what we see. Unable to dazzle us with scale or special effects, he makes full use of his talent for flowing, dreamlike imagery. Sign of the Cross features some of the smoothest camera-work and carefully choreographed movement of extras of this period. He even makes effective use of slow-motion with the pouring goats milk. DeMille was not the only director to turn to simple camera trickery when money was tight – Rouben Mamoulian's earliest pictures for example are end-to-end cheap tricks. It's just that DeMille is doing it better than almost everyone else – it adds sparkle to the picture without being distracting.

But it's not just with the images that DeMille shows his talent. Unlike some directors who were sceptical about the coming of sound and tried to work around it, or some producers who naively thought it automatically made pictures twice as good, DeMille really explores the possibilities of sound. In an early scene, we cut to a close-up Elissa Landi while we hear from off-screen the calls of Romans searching for Christians. We see her reaction to the calls, and this is something that could not be achieved so succinctly in a silent movie. A more obvious example is the torture scene, where we hear the boy's screams, while the camera is pointed elsewhere. The point is, we do not need to see him being tortured because the scream alone has enough impact. However what we do see – the eagle of Rome, a sentry unconcernedly marching back and forth, a flaming torch – adds layers of meaning to the scene.

Of course, this being DeMille, and it being the "pre-code" era, he also seeks to dazzle us with a bit of bare flesh and other assorted depravities. It's one of the great ironies of DeMille's work that his pictures often revel in the very "immorality" they seek to preach against. So the poster advertising the attractions at the Colloseum is as much to whet the appetite of the real-world audience as to show the barbaric tastes of the Roman one. DeMille spends ten minutes of screen time (not to mention more precious money on tin-hat manufacture and zoo rental fees) on the promised blood-fest, which can only be for our entertainment since it is inconsequential to the plot. And, in another bit of audio/visual juxtaposition, while the martyrs' chanting drowns out the "Naked Moon" song, it is the notorious Lesbian dance that DeMille shows us, not the Christians outside.

The acting in Sign of the Cross is a bit of a mixed bag, although it is of a higher standard than many of the DeMille talkies. Charles Laughton is hammily brilliant, laying down a blueprint for Emperor Nero which Peter Ustinov would follow to a well-deserved Oscar-nomination in Quo Vadis (1951). However Laughton's part is fairly small, and the screenplay makes Claudette Colbert the real villain. Colbert is fantastic, playing the Empress as an ancient world vamp, giving by far the best performance of the bunch. It's almost a shame that It Happened One Night re-invented her as a major romantic lead, because she really was at her best when she played villains.

The weakest link in Sign of the Cross, as with many DeMille pictures, is the screenplay. However DeMille's inventiveness, careful construction and strong imagery, not to mention the fact that his pictures are great fun if you don't take them too seriously, transcend the limpness of the script. It was perhaps because DeMille refused to allow his style to be compromised by a limited budget that makes many of his 1930s pictures among his greatest.

THE SIGN OF THE CROSS (Paramount, 1932), directed by Cecil B. DeMille, returns its director to the genre to what he's best known, the religious spectacle, his first since THE KING OF KINGS (Pathe, 1927) starring H.B. Warner as Jesus the Christ. While this title certainly indicates another retelling into the life of Christ, the script, taken from an old play by Wilson Barrett, focuses more on Christians following in the teachings of Jesus years after His crucifixion, only to face suffering and prosecution for their faith.

The setting is 64 A.D. where the Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) is introduced playing his lyre while watching in laughter the flames raging through the city of Rome. Although responsible for starting the fire, Nero places the blame on the Christians, arranging for his guards to have them placed under arrest. His wife, Poppara (Claudette Colbert), is an adulteress whose only desire is the manly Marcus Superbus (Fredric March), a prefect of Rome, but cannot put her hold on him after learning from Dacia (Vivian Tobin) of his love for Mercia (Elissa Landi), a Christian girl. As much as Marcus believes "Christianity is stupid," he tries his best to persuade Mercia to renounce her faith and marry him. Tigellinus (Ian Keith), Marcus' rival, sees an opportunity in making trouble for them both.

With crime dramas, drawing room comedies and/or social related issues as common theme during the Depression era, THE SIGN OF THE CROSS was something out of the ordinary. In true DeMille fashion, THE SIGN OF THE CROSS is not only a 128 minute spectacle with a three minute intermission in the midway point, but a large-scale production with lavish sets and cast of thousands accurately costumed according to its time structure. Of the performers in this Biblical story, Elissa Landi, the central character, seems out of place with her 1932 head-dress while Claudette Colbert, in her first "bad girl" role, quite evident with her lipstick and pencil drawn eyelashes, has her cherished moment bathing in a pool of milk gulped along side by two kittens at a distance. Fredric March as the Roman soldier who rules with the cracking of his whip, physically makes a convincing Marcus, though some of his badly scripted dialog, along with others in the cast, may provoke laughter for any contemporary viewer. Charles Laughton's Nero is exceptional, right down to his curly hair with added putty in the middle of his nose adding sharpness to his cruel facial expression. Although his scenes are regrettably limited, Laughton simply stands out, especially as he watches in sleepy-eyed boredom the slaughter of victims at the arena as he sits back eating large portions of food. Other members in the large cast include Tommy Conlan as Stephanus, the teenage Christian boy; Nat Pendleton, Arthur Hohl, Charles Middleton; lions, tigers, crocodiles and elephants as uncredited extras.

As much as the plot was reworked into the MGM spectacle of QUO VADIS (1951) starring Robert Taylor as Marcus; with Deborah Kerr and Peter Ustinov giving a tour-da-force performance as Nero, nothing can compare with the intense arena sequence found in THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. Graphic, then and now, this sequence, along with "The Naked Moon" dance performed by the wicked Ancaria (Joyzelle Joyner), was all that was missing when THE SIGN OF THE CROSS was not only reissued to theaters in 1944, but when sold to commercial television around the 1960s. In its place was a ten minute prologue written by Dudley Nichols, set during World War II with the cast featuring Stanley Ridges (Chaplain Thomas Lloyd); Arthur Shields (Captain James Costello); James Millican (Captain Kevin Driscoll); William Forrest (Colonel Hugh Mason); Tom Tully (Hoboken); Oliver Thorndyke (Lieutenant Roger Hammond); and Joel Allen. The new opening revolves around bombardiers being assigned on a dangerous mission and heading out to their destination. As the airplane flies over the Colosseum, a discussion about to the prosecution of Christians under Nero's regime leads to a flashback and events that takes place.

It wasn't until March 14, 1993, when American Movie Classics cable channel presented the original uncut 1932 theatrical release of THE SIGN OF THE CROSS that was obtained from the DeMille estate, and played it as part of AMC's initial Film Preservation Society festival. Without these missing scenes, THE SIGN OF THE CROSS would have been hopelessly dull and talkie, such as the case with the 1944 reissue that had circulated for nearly half a century. In 1995, Universal Home Video distributed the now uncensored 1932 version to home video and then to DVD in 2006. After AMC ceased airing THE SIGN OF THE CROSS in 1999, Turner Classic Movies picked up its option by airing this DeMille epic where it played from occasionally from 2004 to 2007. Regardless of its flaws, THE SIGN OF THE CROSS is prime DeMille, best suited for viewing during the season of Lent or Good Friday. Hail Caesar!! (***1/2)

My favorite DeMille film. Charles Laughton and Claudette Colbert are delicious as the debauched emperor and empress of Rome. Prominent supporting players Arthur Hohl and Harry Beresford appeared in two horror classics (ISLAND OF LOST SOULS and DOCTOR X, respectively) the very same year. John Carradine can be seen as a condemned Christian on his way to the arena (you can also hear his voice as a spectator and as a gladiator). Very sharp viewers can also spot Dave O'Brien (a condemned Christian) and Kent Taylor (a disinterested spectator). Three famous scenes still impress today: Poppaea's milk bath; Ancaria's attempted lesbian seduction of Mercia; the outrageous arena sequence featuring beheadings, burnings, impalements, hungry crocodiles, untamed apes, bears, tigers and, of course, lions. Only C.B. could have gotten away with this in 1932! The closing cast list includes the characters Viturius, Servillius and Philodemus, but I'm not sure who they are. Viturius may have been Marcus' soldier-aide, although he doesn't look as burly as Richard Alexander. The other two must be Strabo's ugly, brutish companion and the old Christian man protective of the little orphan girl.

A comment on the original 1932 version.

Pagan Rome, the third night of the great fire. Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) unjustly condemns Christians of burning the eternal city and sentences many of them to martyrdom. He does not realize that through this deed he unconsciously opens for them a wonderful glory in a better world. The struggle between the sign of the Roman eagle of decadent Nero's times and the sign of the cross begins, this is, symbolically, the endless struggle between those with "delicious debauchery" as the sole aim of life (the lifestyle Nero's times promoted) and those heading for everlasting virtues like love, piety, forgiveness, and purity of heart. Cecil B DeMille's THE SIGN OF THE CROSS, being the first sound biblical epic after his silent KING OF KINGS (1927) is, though more than 70 years old, a great spectacle, still one of the most entertaining Roman epics, except for QUO VADIS (1951), SPARTACUS (1960), and BEN HUR (1959).

GREAT CAST: The outstanding cast in the movie are its strongest point. Claudette Colbert's portrayal of wicked, lustful Poppaea is gorgeous. The same can be said about Charles Laughton who portrays Nero as a really decadent emperor, entirely flooded in debauchery and all sorts of sinful lusts. There have been more portrayals of this cruel pair (Poppeae and Nero), but theirs from DeMille's film is real feast for the soul. Therefore, they are even more memorable than Elissa Landi and Fredric March playing the main roles of Mercia and Marcus. Indeed, March as Marcus Superbus does a good job, especially in the way he shows a change of heart from a mocker to a believer. Elissa Landi presents Mercia's innocence and virtues memorably. But they are not that terrific as Colbert and Laughton. As far as performances are concerned, it is also important to mention Joyzelle as "the most wicked and talented woman in Rome", Ancaria. The scene of her seduction is truly well played. The dance of the Naked Moon that Ancaria seduces on Mercia is disturbed by Christians singing in a dungeon. MORAL MESSAGE: That scene clearly expresses the fact I have mentioned at the beginning: the universal struggle between two groups of people with two different aims in life. I think that DeMille also wanted to show this moral in another scene: the meeting of two old Christian men, Favius and Titus sent by Paul to Rome. One of them draws the sign of the cross on the ground, which is later trodden on by many people walking in the square.

SIMILARITY TO ANOTHER EPIC: A significant fact is that the content of the movie is strikingly similar to another Roman epic, made almost 20 years later, QUO VADIS (1951) by Mervyn LeRoy. While QUO VADIS is based on the novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz, this film is based on a play by an English playwright, Wilson Barrett. Both films, however, present the 1st century Rome, in particular, spreading Christianity in the cruel times of Nero; both films show the conversion of a Roman soldier Marcus who loves a Christian girl; both films remind us of the secret Christian meetings; both films focus on Poppaea being lustful for Marcus and demanding revenge on Christians because of jealousy (consider the moment Marcus Superbus comes to Nero to ask him to spare the life of Mercia. Nero says: If she would publicly renounce her faith... when Poppaea disturbs radically: "Not even then!") Moreover, both films show Poppaea's beautiful leopards. Finally, THE SIGN OF THE CROSS and QUO VADIS show the arena sequence, however DeMille presents much more of its gore than LeRoy in 1951.

ARENA: Alligators feeding with a young Christian woman, elephants treading on people's heads, a gorilla raping a girl tied to a wooden pillar, people crucified and burned, men fighting with bulls, bears, women fighting with dwarfs; yet lions and tigers eating Christians, and many other cruel games to the joy and lust of the viewers. Indeed, it is a film not to be watched by kids even at the beginning of the 21 century, but historically accurate and visually very well made.

ONE OF CINEMA'S MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS: Except for the cruel arena sequence, which is still entertaining in some way, any viewer will be surprised at one scene: Poppaea's famous milk bath. That's a moment that everyone should consider while watching the film. Her sexual bath is one of the best made moments that cinema has ever seen. It is totally filled with desire and sexuality. And all thanks to the great performance by Ms Colbert. No surprise Cecil B DeMille cast her to play Cleopatra two years later, in 1934.

It's difficult to express all I feel about this movie in one review. I simply tried my best to encourage everyone to see this movie because it was an unforgettable experience for me, one of the very best Roman epics of all time. If you have already seen QUO VADIS, you will find this movie very similar but, indeed, more DeMillean. The end is very much influenced by the 1930s cinema but very touching and universally true - the absolute victory always comes in the Sign of the Cross... 9/10