Friday, September 25, 2009

Manslaughter. 1922. Directed by Cecil B. DeMille.

(1/7/00)

I really enjoyed this picture most of the way through. It was a nice production (as one would expect from DeMille) and it kept moving. I think it lost its way in the last section, after Lydia gets out of prison.

Leatrice Joy was good as Lydia, but I kept thinking what a great role itwould have been for Clara Bow. I don't know if Bow could have been callous enough, but I kept thinking of her.

Thomas Meighan seemed a little bit stodgy. He's the respectble, upright, solid citizen--so what is the big attraction to Lydia? We are told that he loves her for what she could be rather than what she is, but we are never told why he picked her out to love. We really don't see much affection between the two before the last part of the film.

The comparisons of the decadence of the jazz age to ancient Rome are an excuse for DeMille spectacle. I personally think that the scenes in prison are more interesting. And I really don't think that a summation to a jury is the proper place to talk about the decadence of the time. (though maybe prosecutors do do that in reality.) The jury is there to decide the guilt of one woman concerning one crime.

I very much like how Lydia's rigidity about her maid's theft of the ring is turned around on her when she does something wrong and is put on trial. And the whole theme of forgiveness is well handled--even when the plaque falls down with the words "forgive us our trespasses..." You can call it a cliche, but it works. And the interaction between the two women is very effectively handled.

The real problem that leads to the theft of the ring is that the maid doesn't ask Lydia properly. She just asks, "Could I borrow some money?" when Lydia is in a bad mood. The first rule of asking for anything is to ask when the person you are asking is in a receptive mood. Furthermore, she did not convey to Lydia the importance of what she was asking. She should have sat down with her and said, "Look, I am in a desperate situation. My little boy is sick and is going to die unless I can send him to a warmer climate." Lydia is not hard-hearted and money basically means nothing to her. There is no question that she would have given her the money.

However, I am not criticizing the makers of this film about this, because this is just the way that problems happen in real life. It's a case of miscommunication which results in terrible consequences.

The change that comes over Lydia in prison, her maturation, is the conclusion of the story. Why does the Thomas Meighan character have to go to pieces, take to drink and hit the skids? Why do we need to see this? Just to prove that he didn't really want to send her to prison? The last part of the film doesn't seem to follow naturally and inevitably from what came before. However, it's a great moment when Joy and Meighan see each other again.

Then there is that ending in which he gives up his candidacy for governor for the woman he loves. It's not simply a choice of what he wants most. Being governor is a responsibility rather than a benefit. It is his rival who gleefully tells him that an ex-con (meaning Lydia) cannot reside in the governor's mansion. So the rival seems sleazy, which suggests corruption or dishonesty. By resigning, he leaves the state in that man's greedy hands. I totally agree that after doing the correct and proper thing by sending Lydia to prison her certainly doesn't owe the state the sacrifice of his personal happiness, but that ending is more ambiguous than a simple choice of what is really important.

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