The King of Kings (1927)

Directed by Cecil B. Demille
Starring H.B. Warner, Dorothy Cumming and Ernest Torrence
Produced by DeMille Pictures Corporation

It's about 2000 years ago and Mary Magdalene is throwing a party.  It's obviously an exotic affair with men throwing themselves at the beautiful hostess and leopards on display.

Mary however is nonplussed to discover her favorite boy-toy Judas is not in attendance.  When she finds out Judas would rather spend time with some carpenter from Nazareth, she goes crazy.  There is no way she can let this preacher compete with her.  She summons her zebra-pulled chariot and sets off to set things right.

What she discovers of course is Jesus as he is curing a blind little girl.  The carpenter then drives the seven deadly sins out of Magdalene and she becomes one of his followers.

What happens next will be familiar to most viewers.  There's demons to be driven out, tables to be overturned in the temple, and palms to be strewn.  Can Jesus survive the political intrigue of ancient Rome or is there a crucifix in his future?

I think you know where this story is going.  And that's the danger of any retelling of the New Testament.  How do you tell the most well-known story of the last two millennia and keep the audience engaged?

For most of its two-and-a-half hour runtime, Cecil B. DeMille's The King of Kings manages this feat admirably. The director strays from the Bible for moments, but it never feels out of character.  In fact, it serves to flesh out the tale in interesting ways.

Jesus' introduction is brilliant.  He and the apostles are holed up in a house surrounded by a throng of followers, each looking for their own miracle.  A previously lame, but now healed boy spies a blind girl and leads her to an open window to sneak into the dwelling. We don't see Jesus until He begins healing her.  As her eyes open and then focus, we see Christ from the girl's point-of-view.  It may be the best introduction for Jesus on film ever.

The other moment that sticks with me is the familiar tale of the children trying to see Jesus, but the apostles pushing them back.  Jesus of course allows the children to come, leading to a cute moment where a little girl asks Him to "heal" her broken doll's limb.  Jesus falls back on his carpentry skills and uses a small stick as a pin to make the doll whole.  Very cute.

The other character who gets a fantastic treatment is Judas. Most films don't know how to deal with his motivations, so we get a random, evil turn at the end of the story.  Here though we see why he betrays Jesus.  He thinks the carpenter is destined to overthrow Rome.  He doesn't understand why as Jesus' follower he cannot perform miracles himself.  He's prideful enough to think he can cast out demons and seething when he can't. 

Judas still believes though.  We see his anguish and despair after he turns on his Master.  His suicide coincides with Jesus' own death and both are well filmed and effective.

The movie finds humor in small moments as well.  My favorite is a bit where Jesus sends Peter to catch a fish under the watchful eye of a couple Roman soldiers.  When Peter pulls up his line, the fish is holding a gold coin in its mouth (which allows Christ to provide his "render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's" lesson).  However, at the end of scene, we cut back to the Roman soldiers who are unsuccessfully fishing for their own gold-laden catch.  Not hysterical, but a fun moment in a place you aren't expecting it.

It's DeMille, so of course there are special effects.  For most of the film, H.B. Warner's Jesus is surrounded by a halo effect, which is subtle but effective.  When Magdalene is tormented by the seven deadly sins, we see each brought to life and feel Mary's anguish.  And the earthquake that ravages the site of the Crucifixion is epic in a way we immediately associate with the director.

Still, The King of Kings has a lot of problems as a film.  Once the story reaches Jerusalem, it slows to a crawl and suffers from the problem inherent in any telling of this tale:  the audience knows where the story is going and the pacing needs to appreciate that.  This film doesn't. It drags the viewer through the Last Supper, the garden, Pontius Pilate's deliberations and the march to Calvary at a glacial pace.

As a Catholic, another very annoying flaw is the out of context Scripture verses.  At times, the title cards seem to pull Bible quotes at random so that Jesus is saying things that have nothing to do with what is happening on screen.  This may be less glaring to those without sixteen years of Catholic school education (ouch!), but it certainly struck me.

The other odd artistic touch was the use of color at a couple of moments during the film.  For obvious reasons, the Resurrection is in color, but the other sequence to get that treatment is Magdalene's opening party/orgy.  It's a striking way to begin the film, but I hate connecting the scenes in my brain.  

When you add it up, I liked moments of The King of Kings and admired the overall craft involved in bringing it to the screen; I just never loved it.  The scenes I like (Jesus curing the blind girl, absentmindedly working on a piece of wood before realizing its a cross, and fixing the doll) will now be a part of my own mental telling of the New Testament and that, in itself, is an accomplishment.

***1/2 out of *****

NOTE: As a D.W. Griffith fan, my favorite bit of trivia involves the legendary silent film director.  He was visiting DeMille on set, when DeMille spontaneously handed Griffith the megaphone and told him to direct the next scene. So there is a moment during the Crucifixion that is directed by Griffith.

The Beloved Rogue (1927)

Directed by Alan Crosland
Starring John Barrymore, Conrad Veidt and Marceline Day
Produced by Feature Productions

It's 15th century Paris and King Louis XI controls his country not from a majestic throne room, but from the shadowy depths of his castle.  He knows that the Duke of Burgundy poses a political threat and must consult his most trusted advisor: the royal astrologer.

Louis is superstitious and terrified, but he sees the the challenge Burgundy poses.  The king consults the stars through his astrologer and is told that a battle with Burgundy will end in defeat. The sniveling king reluctantly agrees to embrace his foe as a brother.  Of course, it's not entirely clear that the astrologer is basing his decision on the heavens or on payments from Burgundy.

Meanwhile, François Villon, son of a martyred patriot, rules the streets of Paris.  He's a renowned poet, but also engages in his share of petty thievery.  He is elected King of Fools by the common folk who worship him and a raucous celebration breaks out in the streets.

The mob scene is a major inconvenience for Burgundy and his approaching entourage.  The duke orders the crowd to disperse, which leads to a healthy dose of mockery from Villon.  For all his failings, the poet remains a patriot and understands the danger Burgundy poses to the king.

Of course, the superstitious king must side with Burgundy or he feels forces of fate and destiny will overthrow him.  He exiles Villon from Paris, but not before our hero gets his first view of Charlotte de Vauxcelle, the beautiful noblewoman and soon-to-be unwilling bride of Burgundy.

Outside his beloved city, Villon finds an opportunity for mischief.  He and his friends steal a wagon of the king's food, climb the city walls and use a catapult to deliver the food to the starving masses of Paris.  When the king's troops converge, he jumps into the catapult himself to escape.

Now the king wants him dead and he can't run forever?  Will Villon convince the king to face the real bad guy?  Or does he have a date with the guillotine?

The Beloved Rogue shouldn't work.  It's a silly film.  Barrymore's performance is bad.  His love interest is completely and utterly forgettable.  The plot turns 180 degrees on a dime.

But damn if I didn't have a good time.

At the start, the tone is completely inconsistent.  We start with the burning at the stake of Villon's father when François is still an infant.  His wife is screaming, trying to get to the fire.  The next morning she somberly walks to the pile of ashes that was her husband, grabs a handful and loads it into a locket.

Next scene? The infant François won't drink his milk unless it's loaded into a wine bottle.  Funny, right?

Then we fast forward to the bowels Louis' castle and we are in a horror movie.  The it's the adult Villon being silly on the rooftops of Paris.

The tone never completely rights itself, but the pendulum-like swings slow down.  We start to understand that François' playful, carefree attitude masks deeper passions.  He cavorts with women until he meets "the one."  He engages in petty crime until he figures a way into the king's court, then he's the crown's most trusted advisor, the only one capable of telling truth to power.

Key to the film's success are its inventive set pieces.  From catapulting fruit into the city to the chase that ensues, all of the film's movements are dictated by what would be fun, not what would be suspenseful or realistic.  When Villon drops into a barrel carried by four men, it's not a surprise that none of those hoisting the barrel notice the additional 150 pounds.  And it's not a surprise that the barrel is brought into a room with a bear.  It's nonsensical, but it also delights.  And in the world this film creates?  It's the natural order of things.

A key part of the film's appeal is some over-the-top performances.  Barrymore runs around a snow-covered Paris in Robin Hood tights, over-emoting and sporadically dancing every time a fit of happiness hits him.  It's bad, but it's so bad it's good.  The manic energy of the performance fits the material.  He seems to be having fun and you can't help but smile along.

Conrad Veidt makes a fantastically slimy Louis.  His humpback shuffling across every scene, his sideways glances at his astrologer to see what he should do at every turn, his palpable disgust for Burgundy even as he defends his honor... he's brilliant at every turn.  There is a central moment where Villon convinces Louis to spare his life and if you buy the exchange at all, it's only because of the good will Veidt has built up.

The climax features lots of buildup, but no real pay off.  Burgundy is preparing to execute Villon in front of Charlotte and a crowd of Parisians.  However, we start seeing that much of the assembly are Villon's men.  They start producing carefully concealed weapons, removing fake limbs, sometimes even assembling improvised hatchets.  Then the moment comes and... Louis reveals himself hidden in the crowd and orders Burgundy arrested.  No battle.  The scene doesn't so much end as peter out.

The Beloved Rogue is not a good film.  It's not a bad one either.  It's an entertaining diversion.  And sometimes that's enough.

***1/2 out of *****

College (1927)

It’s high school graduation and Ronald is late.  He hurries along to the ceremony through the rain with his adoring mother in tow.  His tardiness means he must take the only seat available, next to the radiator.  When the time comes for his speech, the steam from the heater has shrunk his rain-soaked suit to button-bursting proportions.

As for the speech, Ronald regales the audience with his views on the virtue of scholarship and the evils of athletic pursuits.  By the time he is done, his mother is the only one left sitting in the hall.

That’s not to say no one in the audience was paying attention.  Ronald’s crush Mary sets upon him immediately after he leaves the building.  She thinks a girl would be crazy to choose a bookworm over a football stud, and will have nothing more to do with him.  Off she goes with hunky Jeff, whose smug demeanor means we will hate him immediately.

Ronald resolves to follow Mary to Clayton College and prove his athletic prowess.  He arrives with a suitcase full of sports how-to books and equipment from a hodgepodge of different equipment, from football pads to baseball gear.  The dean is thrilled to have a scholar on campus to demonstrate the superiority of more intelligent pursuits, but Ronald has other ideas. 

He tries his hand at a number of sports, showing his level of incompetence along the way.  He tries out for baseball and demonstrates an inability to do anything.  He tries track and field and can barely throw the javelin five feet and almost kills half his team with the hammer throw.  By the time he is attempting to pole vault and the stick cracks in half, we know he is never going to get his act together.

Or is he?  The dean forces the rowing team to take him on as coxswain for their big race.  Meanwhile, the recently expelled Jeff has locked himself in Mary’s room, knowing if he is discovered with her, she will be expelled too (and hopefully marry him?).  Can Ronald lead his crew to victory?  And can he save Mary from Jeff’s bizarrely conceived marriage proposal?

College is barely a film.

It’s more a series of skits starring Keaton trying and failing at any number of things.  Some of the bits work.  I like the opening speech.  I like the track tryouts.  And the final dash to save Mary is madcap and brilliant.

I did not love any of the set pieces though.  There’s nothing here as good as a moment of The Seven Chances or even The General.

Perhaps the biggest in-joke of the movie is simply the idea that Keaton could be unathletic.  You buy him for a while as the weak, bookish guy, but eventually he has to put on that track uniform and you see his physique and you just know he can’t sell this anymore. 

Even as he fails at each event, he is never unathletic.  When he throws the javelin it arcs high out of the camera’s range before plopping pitifully a few feet away.  He takes every hurdle, touching each one just enough to knock it over while never breaking stride.  He has little trouble picking up the hammer toss; his mistake is simply that he whirls around and around, threatening anyone in range.  He’s not weak.  He’s just not great at sports.

There’s a subplot where Ronald needs to earn money for college and takes a couple of jobs as a soda jerk and in a restaurant.  Neither are funny, particularly the restaurant sequence where we see Keaton in black face.  Ugh.

The supporting cast is generic with one exception: Snitz Edwards.  Every time he walks on screen, I smile.  He has very little screen time here, but he mines every moment.

The final coda of the film is absurd in its humor.  Ronald has won the girl and in less than 15 seconds we see them married, then with children, then elderly, then… their gravestones.  It’s a great idea for an ending, but feels unearned here.  There’s a cynical humor to the series of shots that would land perfectly had anyone bothered to convey that we should care about Mary and Ronald’s relationship.  Unfortunately, Ronald’s pining comes across as merely an excuse for all of the comedy bits so the epilogue falls flat.

College is a mediocre Keaton film, which makes it better than most of what you will find in the silent era.  The hits are smile-inducing at best, but the misses are groan-worthy.

**1/2 out of *****