Le signe de la croix

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)

Yikes! De Mille's erotic raunchy graphic and splendid SIGN OF THE CROSS made at Paramount in 1932, and his first talkie bible study is a movie you not forget. It is infamous and famous for many sights and other comments here will give you the reaction to the graphic cruelty of the truly shocking Arena/Gladiator scenes. The ridiculously entertaining asses milk bath with nipples ahoy and Claudette's milky breasts, the very funny dialog of daily life amid the splendor, the horror of the rape and torture of a teenage Christian boy, the eerie similarity to the 1932 German persecution of the European Jews, the depression era parable of the idle rich uncaring at the financial death of the 1930s masses, the dazzling costumes (no bras in Rome either), the claustrophobic street sets with rushing horses and fights in corners, all in all create an amazing action tableau like a pencil sketch bible book drawing brought to life. The film's art direction and set design and costumes are especially evocative of 'a silent epic with sound' and one easily can transfer the idea of seeing the 1925 BEN HUR with sound as SIGN OF THE CROSS favorably compares. The Arena montage scenes are really shocking. The Moon Dance is outrageous lesbian swankiness and gorgeous as all hell... well pagan hell as depicted by the morally austere Demille. Great moving wallpaper for your next party if played on a big TV and without sound with your CD collection going instead. If you agree that SIGN OF THE CROSS made in 1932 is really a 1920s silent film with dialog, have a look at FOLLOW THRU made two years earlier in 1929 and in color and as jazz modern today in it's creative style. CROSS plays like an ancient movie but FOLLOW THRU still plays new.

Great old DeMille flick about the persecution of Christians in ancient Rome. The movie starts with Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) laughing and playing music while Rome burns. When someone reminds him that the people might hold Nero responsible, he quickly decides to blame the unpopular believers of the new Christian religion. As Christians are being rounded up and killed, Roman prefect Marcus (Fredric March) falls in love with a Christian girl (Elissa Landi). This doesn't sit well with Empress Poppaea (Claudette Colbert), who's in love with Marcus, and she conspires to have the girl arrested.

Charles Laughton gives an outrageously hammy performance and I loved every second of it. I wish he had been in the film a lot more. Fredric March is good, as always. Lovely Elissa Landi does an admirable job in probably her biggest role but she's eclipsed by Claudette Colbert. What this film is perhaps most famous for is the scene where Colbert takes a bath in donkey milk, in which we see quite a bit of what God gave Ms. Colbert to work with. She's a beautiful woman and it's a very sexy scene. The sets and costumes are great, as one expects from a Cecil B. DeMille picture. It's just a really good film, entertaining and dramatic, with some provocative bits of sex and violence that will surely please pre-Code fans. If for no other reason, see it for Colbert.

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.

Believe it or not some sort of code did exist during the pre-Code era but no one felt obliged to follow it. Although lapped up by audiences the excesses on display in this extraordinary opus proved too much to bear in certain quarters and undeniably hastened the formation of the Hays Code and the crackpot Catholic League of Decency. One would hazard a guess that it is not so much the unspeakable cruelty depicted here that caused such moral outrage but the skimpy costumes and the hip-swivelling cooch dance by Joyzelle Joyner with its distinctly lesbian overtones.

Piety and Paganism are in direct opposition here and although Mr. De Mille is seen to be on the side of the angels he is astutely aware of the box office potential of depravity and debauchery.

What should really concern an objective cinéphile is how well-made the film is and how well it has held up over nine decades. The cinematography is lustrous courtesy of Karl Struss, one of the greatest pictorialists in the history of cinema whilst Mitchell Leisen's art and costume design is exemplary. The plot is not entirely original of course as the play by Wilson Barratt from which it is taken had been strongly influenced by the novel 'Quo Vadis?' of Henryk Sienkiewicz. Here the ill-fated lovers are played by Fredric March and Elissa Landi, both of whom do their very best in one-dimensional roles. The classy Miss Landi's portrayal is virtuous without being self-righteous and her anguished cry: "Dear Christ, why?" really touches the heart. A relatively small amount of screen time is allotted to Charles Laughton and Claudette Colbert as Nero and Poppaea but they certainly make the most of it. Miss Colbert is utterly bewitching here and supremely sensuous which makes her the obvious choice to play Cleopatra for the same director two years later. Apparently de Mille was perplexed by the idiosyncratic Mr. Laughton and gave up trying to direct him. Left to his own devices his performance is touched by genius and we are obliged to film historian David Thomson for describing Laughton's interpretation as 'the most flagrant and fleshy portrait of an abandoned homosexual spirit seen in a Hollywood film until that time.'

Although not for the faint hearted this piece is arguably Cecil B. De Mille's finest achievement.