Cecil B. DeMille himself described this early feature as one of the first 'psychological' films ever made, but it's actually a more-or-less typical late-Victorian Age cautionary fable, expressed (as might be expected) with a heavy dose of morality and melodrama. The story shows how a single moment of weakness (in this case the desperate embezzlement of $1,000 by a poverty-stricken bookkeeper) will ultimately lead to misfortune, and worse. Haunted by a guilty conscience, the long-suffering victim gambles away (in the following order) his savings, his self-respect, his family, and finally his own identity. Reduced at last to a penniless, crippled vagrant, he is finally arrested and, after a series of misunderstandings, charged with his own murder! Most of the heavy-handed exposition and delivery is hilarious when seen today, and the inadvertent humor kills the lingering impact of the film's often striking (for 1918) visual artistry.
Review of The Whispering Chorus
