As we learned last Christmas from Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings, they just don’t make ‘em like this anymore. Cecil B. DeMille pulls out all the stops and delivers 3-1/2 hours of engaging cinema in this justly praised version of the Exodus story. We might not buy into the themes and values that inform this Ten Commandments, and we might not see the characters as believable, but there’s indisputable cinematic power and beauty in this over-the-top epic of the 50s.
The core of the appeal here is the characters. In contrast to Scott’s recent version of the story, DeMille gives us characters who have some human elements we can respond to. Nefretiri is the most conflicted character, supporting Moses at many points because of her love for him, undermining him later out of revenge, then suddenly working to save his son from death. Hers is a conflicted love. Moses, too, has inner conflicts as he realizes his Jewish background, though after god speaks to him, he becomes a much flatter and uninteresting character. Pharaoh Sethi first trusts Moses then finds disappointment in him, and the flawed Ramses must cope with his own arrogance in dealing with Moses as well as the very real grief of losing his son. All these characters go through emotional, if melodramatic, changes.
Minor characters, too, have a sentimental side that we can respond to. Edward G. Robinson’s Dathan is that unflinchingly villainous character we love to hate, and we’re hopeful that the romance between young Joshua and Lilia will one day be realized. We can also feel for the suffering of Moses biological mother, Yochabel, and for Bithiah, who raises him as her own and loves him. Even scenes like brick-making and the departure from Egypt feature small vignettes of sentimentality. In this Ten Commandments, DeMille uses even the smallest character as an emotional element to draw us into the film.
A surprising discovery in watching this Ten Commandments is that we don’t need awe-inspiring CGI to jack our involvement in a film. Ridley Scott’s 3D special effects are clearly superior to the cartoon column of fire and the blue-screen that DeMille had available to him, but Scott has to use a uniform, grey pallet to take advantage of his technology while DeMille used riveting Technicolor that draws our eye with unexpected textures and colors. Red bolts of cloth arc across DeMille’s screen, and turquoise radiates blue from around the necks of the Egyptians. Skin tones are a rich contrast to the cloth draping the actors’ bodies, which themselves are set off with high-key lighting for the men and soft focus for the women. Technicolor emphasizes the details in accessories and cloth, and there’s an unmistakable quality of mid-50s fashion in the opulent court costumes, perhaps reflecting the contribution of Edith Head. Today’s CGI can indeed draw the eye, but 50s Technicolor serves the same function just as well when used by someone this skilled at it.
The sentimentality, lavish costumes and ornate sets in this film all point to a silent aesthetic that DeMille was very familiar with. Billowing curtains often define interior spaces -- a device that Scott uses effectively in Gladiator -- but what really compels us are the expansive of pyramids, temple facades and rows of sphinxes. We also see the silents’ love of exotic spectacle in moments like Moses directing the placement of an obelisk between two large temples. Other spectacles include the exodus from Egypt and Ramses’ subsequent pursuit, as well as the hurried crossing of the Red Sea, all three with hordes of extras. The extravagant party scene around the Golden Calf also recalls the many decadent dance scenes of earlier silent films.
In the Ten Commandments, DeMille updates the old vocabulary of silent film for his mid-50s era. While he addresses a contemporary, Cold War concerns like freedom vs. servitude to the state, with this vocabulary, he also demonstrates the power to touch us that this old cinematic language still has.
