Cleopatra (1934)
Country: US
Technical: bw 100m
Director: Cecil B. DeMille
Cast: Claudette Colbert, Warren William, Henry Wilcoxon
Synopsis:
The young queen of the Nile escapes the machinations of her brother Ptolemy by seducing Caesar, and when eventually Antony comes after her to avenge his mentor's 'bewitchment' she seduces him too.
Review:
DeMille's extravagant, opulent follow-up to The Sign of the Cross is three parts sophisticated romantic melodrama to one part bloodthirsty historical spectacle. Haply feeling that the enshrinement of the Hays Code lay just around the corner, Paramount served up dozens of its starlets in barely existent costumes, and commissioned some expansive sets. The high point is the famous seduction aboard Cleopatra's galley, with Antony treated to diaphanous chiffon, leopard skin and a netload of seaweed-strewn maidens bearing oysters before he succumbs to the effects of Bacchus and Eros, a stately track out from the tactfully draped couch, past dancing girls and oarsmen before finishing on the hortator, who beats a gong-like drum in time with the non-diegetic soundtrack. All the while we have the dichotomy of Wilcoxon's stolid, frowning, lumpen Antony, handsome, yes, but little wonder he became DeMille's collaborator rather than star of future productions (excepting The Crusades), and Colbert's wrily amused wanton, playing mostly as though she has walked off a Lubitsch set, until her affecting death scene provides an excuse for another piece of grandiloquent mise en scène.
Country: US
Technical: bw 100m
Director: Cecil B. DeMille
Cast: Claudette Colbert, Warren William, Henry Wilcoxon
Synopsis:
The young queen of the Nile escapes the machinations of her brother Ptolemy by seducing Caesar, and when eventually Antony comes after her to avenge his mentor's 'bewitchment' she seduces him too.
Review:
DeMille's extravagant, opulent follow-up to The Sign of the Cross is three parts sophisticated romantic melodrama to one part bloodthirsty historical spectacle. Haply feeling that the enshrinement of the Hays Code lay just around the corner, Paramount served up dozens of its starlets in barely existent costumes, and commissioned some expansive sets. The high point is the famous seduction aboard Cleopatra's galley, with Antony treated to diaphanous chiffon, leopard skin and a netload of seaweed-strewn maidens bearing oysters before he succumbs to the effects of Bacchus and Eros, a stately track out from the tactfully draped couch, past dancing girls and oarsmen before finishing on the hortator, who beats a gong-like drum in time with the non-diegetic soundtrack. All the while we have the dichotomy of Wilcoxon's stolid, frowning, lumpen Antony, handsome, yes, but little wonder he became DeMille's collaborator rather than star of future productions (excepting The Crusades), and Colbert's wrily amused wanton, playing mostly as though she has walked off a Lubitsch set, until her affecting death scene provides an excuse for another piece of grandiloquent mise en scène.
Country: US
Technical: bw 100m
Director: Cecil B. DeMille
Cast: Claudette Colbert, Warren William, Henry Wilcoxon
Synopsis:
The young queen of the Nile escapes the machinations of her brother Ptolemy by seducing Caesar, and when eventually Antony comes after her to avenge his mentor's 'bewitchment' she seduces him too.
Review:
DeMille's extravagant, opulent follow-up to The Sign of the Cross is three parts sophisticated romantic melodrama to one part bloodthirsty historical spectacle. Haply feeling that the enshrinement of the Hays Code lay just around the corner, Paramount served up dozens of its starlets in barely existent costumes, and commissioned some expansive sets. The high point is the famous seduction aboard Cleopatra's galley, with Antony treated to diaphanous chiffon, leopard skin and a netload of seaweed-strewn maidens bearing oysters before he succumbs to the effects of Bacchus and Eros, a stately track out from the tactfully draped couch, past dancing girls and oarsmen before finishing on the hortator, who beats a gong-like drum in time with the non-diegetic soundtrack. All the while we have the dichotomy of Wilcoxon's stolid, frowning, lumpen Antony, handsome, yes, but little wonder he became DeMille's collaborator rather than star of future productions (excepting The Crusades), and Colbert's wrily amused wanton, playing mostly as though she has walked off a Lubitsch set, until her affecting death scene provides an excuse for another piece of grandiloquent mise en scène.