User Reviews

Although this unusual melodrama was made in the silent era, it may remind some viewers of the downbeat, guilt-ridden Film Noirs of the 1940s, the ones narrated in flashback by an already doomed man on the run from the law. But instead of, say, Fred MacMurray or Alan Ladd, the lead role here is taken by Raymond Hatton, a character actor who was prolific in supporting roles for decades but rarely cast in prominent featured parts, and very seldom in leads. Hatton was a distinctive-looking man, but no one's idea of a matinée idol: he was short and slight with a prominent nose, receding hairline and recessive chin. In other words, he looked not like an actor but like a "real person," a guy you might see in an elevator or riding the bus and not give a second glance. And unlike some of those later films, the plot of The Whispering Chorus unfolds in a linear chronological sequence, taking the viewer on a dark ride with several unexpected turns along the way.

Hatton plays an embittered accountant named John Trimble, a man who barely earns a living wage and struggles with debt. When we first meet him it's Christmastime, and Trimble keenly resents his inability to get his clothes mended or buy his wife nice things. Soon he succumbs to the wicked, seductive voices in his head -- the "whispering chorus" of the title -- and chooses to embezzle from his employer. However, his timing couldn't be worse, for he takes this action just as a crusading district attorney (Elliott Dexter, blandly handsome in classic matinée idol fashion) investigating fraud in Trimble's company descends on the place, specifically to examine the company's books. The guilty accountant flees, causing much distress to his wife Jane (Kathlyn Williams) and mother. When Trimble happens upon the body of a drowned derelict he gets the inspiration to fake his own murder, and throw the police off his trail. Out of thin air he concocts a man named "Edgar Smith," sets him up as his own killer, then assumes a new identity for himself and goes into hiding. Years pass. Crusading D.A. Coggeswell is elected governor of the state and soon afterward marries his secretary Jane Trimble, who by this time is convinced that her first husband is dead. The Coggeswells are successful, rich, and happy, with a baby on the way. Their future hangs in the balance, however, when John Trimble, now a crippled derelict, reappears on the scene. A chain of circumstantial evidence leads to his identification as Edgar Smith. "Smith" is promptly arrested, tried and convicted for the murder of John Trimble! Ultimately the condemned man must decide whether to reveal the truth, or protect his wife's hard-earned happiness.

The darkly ironic plot sounds like something Wilder, Preminger, or Hitchcock might have tackled in later days, but this film was directed by none other than Cecil B. DeMille, who in the early stages of his career occasionally took on material quite unlike the later spectacles with which he's usually associated. Viewers who have seen his moody, sensationalistic drama The Cheat (1915) may find similarities in the stylized touches the director utilizes here, such as the heavy shadows that hover over Trimble in the early scenes, even when he attempts to shake off his gloom and celebrate Christmas, or the touch of Griffith-style parallel cutting offered as ironic contrast, when the solemn church wedding of Governor Coggeswell and Jane Trimble is cross-cut with John Trimble's sordid assignation with a hooker in a Shanghai dive. The showiest effect is the recurring image of disembodied, whispering heads who represent Trimble's worst instincts. These ghostly-looking men encourage Trimble in his cynicism and torment him with bad advice; interestingly, the sole "good" voice he hears, though usually overruled by the others, belongs to a woman. It's a shame that The Whispering Chorus was never remade with sound, for this idea might have been particularly effective in a talkie. Similar devices were occasionally used in sound film, of course, but usually for broad comic effect, as when someone's conscience can be heard as a chiding voice-over, or a character torn between two moral choices must listen to an argument between an angel and a devil and choose sides. Here, the device is played straight and is never the least bit comic.

This film is intriguing, but I feel it could have been better if certain plot points which strain credulity had been worked out in a more satisfying way. For example, it feels entirely too easy for Trimble to create "Edgar Smith" and blame him for his own homicide. The investigators instantly accept the existence of this man and are bewildered by his disappearance, but it seems obvious that the lack of any tangible history for the man would raise suspicions. Also, when Trimble returns after six years, albeit lame and scarred, it nonetheless seems unlikely that Jane could look him in the eye in the courtroom and fail to recognize her missing husband. Still, allowing for these and other moments that call for suspension of disbelief, The Whispering Chorus is an engrossing and offbeat drama, and a most interesting departure for DeMille. Some of the film history books say that this movie's failure at the box office drove the director to seek more upbeat, crowd-pleasing material, but according to Robert Birchard's recent study "Cecil B. DeMille's Hollywood" the film actually turned a modest profit. Moreover, the director continued to explore some of the themes found here in his later work, so it could hardly be said that this project represents a Road Not Taken. Even so, in his long career DeMille never attempted anything quite like this again.

"The Whispering Chorus" produced and directed by Cecil B. De Mille, tells the tragic story of John Tremble and his descent into oblivion.

Tremble (Raymond Hatton) is stuck in a low paying dead end job. He wants the better things in life for his wife Jane (Kathlyn Williams) and his ailing mother (Edythe Chapman). One day he decides to embezzle $10,000 from his boss Chemley (James Neill). Fearing arrest, Tremble goes into hiding.

Jane goes to State investigator George Coggeswell (Elliot Dexter) for help. He is immediately attracted to her. He is called in to investigate the Chemley embezzlement but keeps the information of John's involvement from her.

Tremble meanwhile is living in an old shack where one day a body of one Eric Smith, a known criminal washes up on shore. Tremble decides to switch identifies with him and stages his own murder scene.

Tremble lives the good life until the money runs out and is forced to seek work as a longshoreman. He is partially crippled in an accident and is about to be arrested when a co-worker (Noah Beery) helps him to escape.

Years go by and Coggeswell continues to pursue Jane. However Mrs. Tremble still believes her son to be alive even though the body of Smith had been identified as that of Tremble. Finally the old woman relents and gives her consent to the marriage of Jane and Coggeswell.

Coggeswell becomes governor and he and Jane live the good life. Still later we see Tremble now reduced to a tramp trying to eke out a living on the street. He decides to go to his mother to reveal the truth. She at first doesn't recognize him. When she finally does, she collapses and dies shortly thereafter.

After seeing Jane who also doesn't recognize hum, Tremble is arrested and charged with his own murder. The case come to trial, Jane is asked to testify and.....................................................

Melodramatic to be sure, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. The performances were excellent particularly that of Hatton. The trial sequence is very well done and the finale very touching.

Raymond Hatton is probably best remembered as the crusty old "B" western sidekick of the 30s, 40s and 50s but he had a long and varied career lasting over 60 years. In addition to his work with De Mille, he also appeared in several films with Lon Chaney in the 20s.

A good movie.

Almost top-billed in Cecil B. DeMille's Joan the Woman (1916) – only Geraldine Farrar in the title role is billed above him – diminutive Raymond Hatton (who turns in a great performance in Joan the Woman), gets his chance to shine bright as star number one in DeMille's The Whispering Chorus (1918). Unfortunately, the script for this one is none too convincing and Hatton emerges as more of a liability than an asset. Because of his diminutive stature, it seems incredible that none of the other characters can connect him with the "murdered" man. He looks the same to me, even though he does discard his beard – and an obviously false beard it is at that! Also, all this stuff about the whispering chorus does not play an important part in the story and could easily have been jettisoned. Its sole purpose is obviously to dress up a hackneyed plot and distract our attention from its highly improbable chain of events in which a wanted man just stumbles upon a body of exactly the right build and stature, thus enabling him to quickly and convincingly assume the dead man's identity. Admittedly, this all occurred before 1935 so there was no question of problems with Social Security, but it's just totally incredible nevertheless. But wait, there's more: The fugitive's destitute wife works her way up the ladder and marries the governor of the state! Boy, oh boy! Wait! There's more! Lots more! But I won't spoil the movie for you by telling you what happens next. As director/producer Cecil B. DeMille himself would say: "If you can persuade audiences to swallow a gnat, they won't have any trouble digesting a camel." Available on an excellent Alpha DVD.

After transferring the chiaroscuro effects of Rembrandt's painting onto "The Cheat", director Cecil B. DeMille likens Kafka's writing in "The Whispering Chorus", with its disjointed, nightmarish, psychological drama. The lighting and tinting, as usual for DeMille's films, are superior. Also, as usual, the framing, staging and acting are theatrical. The mise-en-scène, tinting and editing in the dénouement were especially good. The narrative is what sets this film apart, though.

The depiction of the hall of echoes, or the whispering chorus--the stream of consciousness--as superimposed faces (none of which are of the protagonist) with conflicting advice seems silly today, like a naïve representation of dissociative identity disorder (multiple personality disorder). Yet, how else could one depict a stream of consciousness in a silent film, without narration? Furthermore, the protagonist is deranged, a psychotic; this is not only evident by the faces, but also in his actions. The story is somewhat congruently nonsensical. The action follows a sort of dream logic, like a Kafka story, often lacking reason and continuing further into a surrealist nightmare of unnatural, ironic events seemingly out of the dazed protagonist's control. The editing is probably the other technique that best supports this, such as in the sequence crosscutting between Jane remarrying and John in China, jumping two years twice within a short length of film.

Although DeMille was making a psychological drama, with some focus on subjective perspective, he apparently didn't intend to attempt Kafkaesque depths, and he largely fails to; there's too much causation to the plot, and the film is too objective. That DeMille was trying a narrative that somewhat differs from traditional, popular storytelling is commendable. In this respect, "The Whispering Chorus" "marked a turning point in DeMille's career, causing him to abandon his interesting path of 'artistic' pictures and concentrate on films of proved appeal instead," in the words of American film historian William Everson ("American Silent Film"). I don't know about the lack of profit of this film determining DeMille's subsequent films, but at this time, early in his career, he was trying different things. And, rather than continuing along the more interesting path including this film and "The Cheat", he went on to make "Male and Female" and other such commercial rubbish. Cinema lost an interesting filmmaker here.

I recently viewed 4 DeMille silents from the 1918-ish time period -- Don't Change Your Husband, The Golden Chance, Old Wives for New, and The Whispering Chorus. The Whispering Chorus was by far the best.

I liked this film for its interesting editing (which I assume must've been very clever at the time): superimposed heads floating near John Tremble, telling him what he should do in various situations that tested his moral character -- should he gamble the Christmas money he's intended to buy his wife a dress with or not, should he embezzle from his employer or not.

John Tremble makes a series of really bad choices -- so bad, that one has to wonder about his mental health and his intelligence! But no matter, without his bad choices we wouldn't have such an interesting and twist-turning plot! One of these bad choices leads John to switch identities with a dead man -- changing clothes, wallets, etc., and smashing the dead man's skull beyond recognition so the dead body can't be identified by the face. John then goes on the run and is eventually caught and accused of his own murder! Pretty exciting stuff for 1918 if you ask me!

John's wife, meanwhile, has taken a job with a kindly government official (played by Elliott Dexter, who must've been a fave of DeMille's as he was in 3 of the 4 flicks I watched), who goes on to become governor of the state. The governor and John's wife, Jane, inevitably fall in love and get married. Jane has hesitated for a long time, out of deference to John's mother, but John's mother finally makes it clear to the couple that they have her blessing.

There is a really interesting presentation of the wedding -- we see shots of the happy couple getting married, intercut with shots of a bedraggled on-the-run John in Chinatown making love to a Chinese prostitute. It was a very powerful statement on the contrast of these two peoples' lives (John's and Jane's), and where John's bad choices have led him to.

The courtroom scene (John has been caught and is on trial for his own murder; no one believes he's really John Tremble) was rather suspenseful for me -- when Jane walked right by John on her way to the witness chair, and then again when she was asked point blank by the lawyer to look at John and say if she'd ever seen him before, my attention was definitely held captive! She looked straight at John and honestly did not recognize him. Needless to say, John was found guilty of murder and sent to death row.

While in jail, Jane goes to visit him and, looking at him upclose and in the eyes, she does recognize her former husband. She asks her new husband, the governor to pardon him, but John tells her not to go to such trouble, that he deserves to die for other crimes and acts. (John had promised his mother he would save Jane even if it meant he had to die in the process, so I presume that John realizes Jane is better off with the governor than with him and the only way she can remain with the governor is if he's really not John, i.e., if John is dead.)

Very heady, psychological stuff that makes you think both during the movie and even after it's over. To me, that's the mark of good storytelling. I was overall very impressed with this early DeMille, especially after watching the other 3 that I mentioned above, all of which were pretty light and fluffy.

Later known for his comic teaming with Wallace Beery, Raymond Hatton, in the teens, with support roles in "Young Love" (1915)(also a DeMille production) was forging a career as a "hero's friend" when he was given the role of his life as a cowardly embezzler in "The Whispering Chorus". With more than a passing nod to Dicken's "Our Mutual Friend", Hatton plays John Tremble, 2nd assistant of the Clumley Contracting Company, whose whispering chorus (his conscience) is sowing seeds of envy and discontent in him. The superimposed images of heads forever giving him advice shows DeMille was trying experimentation.

Christmas Eve is a pretty sorry affair at the Tremble's. Long suffering wife Jane's (stately Kathlyn Williams) pathetic attempts at cheer meet with John's grumbles and his determination to find money by whatever means he can. When up and coming State's Attorney George Coggeswell (phlegmatic Elliot Dexter) demands that Clumleys do an audit of their books he finds embezzlement but by this time the thief, Tremble, has "disappeared" and is living as a hermit in an old shack. A body washed up on shore gives him the perfect opportunity to begin life anew as he plants papers and articles on the body so it will look as though "John Tremble" has been murdered and he, now as "Edgar Smith" is free to start a new life.

But in DeMille's world cheaters never prosper and Tremble, through his cowardly approach to life goes from bad to worse. After years of degradation when he finally finds a job on the wharves (Noah Beery plays his co-worker) an accident cripples him and when he finally summons courage enough to contact his mother, police are put on his trail. An instance of the unusual symbolism - when Jane finds well deserved happiness with George, the scene switches to a drunken John being seduced by an opium girl (Julia Faye). The ending, with John finally showing a few remains of decency and goodness, must have stretched viewer's credulity to breaking point. It had no really admirable characters, the main one (Tremble) being a bleak opportunist, and no happy ending. Unfortunately coming at the end of the war it was exactly what people didn't want to see - extraordinarily experimental though it was. Really ahead of it's time, just a shame at that particular time no one wanted to know.

Considering that this full-length movie was made in 1918, I'm going to cut it a lot of slack for its old fashioned story--especially because in other ways, it's very original and creative. It certainly is an odd blend of the old and the new.

The film begins with John Tremble who is a clerk. You literally see faces appear around his head and they begin talking to him--telling him their opinions about what he should do. No, he is NOT schizophrenic but this is an interesting way to visualize the little messages we tell ourselves when we are considering doing good or evil--sort of like the little devil and angel on our shoulders that later appeared in cartoons (as well as ANIMAL HOUSE). It seems rather old fashioned as does the very moralistic aspects of the film. I am very glad, however, I stuck with the film because it really did get a lot better. Plus, for its time it wasn't so old fashioned and preachy.

Anyway, the voices mostly tell him how unfair it is that he isn't paid more or that he and his family don't have more. This goes on for some time until eventually he ends up embezzling money. This plan blows up quickly, as an audit is soon announced. Now here is where the film really gets interesting.

Where the story goes next, though very tough to believe and a tad hokey, also is really great viewing. The man runs away and lives on a lonely island--with no particular plan beyond that. When a dead man happens to wash up, he quickly concocts a strange plan. He smashes the face of the dead man (making identification, particularly at that time, very difficult). Then, in his own personal diary, he writes about how a man is going to kill him and if anyone finds the diary, then they'll know who supposedly did the dirty deed. However, the man named as the killer is the actual dead man! Everyone naturally assumes the story is true and his wife and mother grieve--thought the mother "just knows" that her son is still alive--at least for a while (a cliché, I know). Eventually, however, even his mother accepts that he is dead and encourages her daughter-in-law to remarry. Interestingly, the man she now is in love with is the man who will soon be the governor! He seems like a decent man and they are quite happy.

Eventually, the supposedly dead man comes to hate his new life and wants to see his mother. So, he sneaks back home and sees her--at which point she has a heart attack and dies! But, they assume this "bum" who is in her house killed her!! When they realize she only died from a heart attack, he is STILL screwed, as they now think he's the man who murdered John Tremble! So, he is going to court--charged with murdering himself (though everyone thinks he killed Tremble). He has no real proof who he is and in a panic has his old wife called to court. She doesn't recognize him, as years have passed.

Later, Mrs. Tremble/the Governor's wife wonders if maybe the man in court could really have been her supposedly dead husband. However, in a grand gesture of good, he tells everyone that he DID murder Tremble and goes to the electric chair rather than ruin his wife's new life.

Sounds really tough to believe, huh? Well, of course if you can suspend disbelief, you will enjoy the story a lot more. Plus, while the old style melodrama is definitely there in spades, there is also a fascinating plot at the same time. Plus, the ending really helped elevate the story. I really wish that the director, Cecil B. DeMille, had done more stories like this instead of the huge bigger-than-life epics he was later known for making, as it has a human quality so many of his later films lack. He did direct this with style and the camera work was tremendous on individual vignettes--far more interesting than his shots with thousands of extras.