2020-2021 Film Journal Entry #34
by Xavier E. Palacios
"Samson and Delilah (1949)"
4 out of 5
Directed by Cecil B. DeMille
Premise: A retelling of the Biblical story of the mighty and foolish Samson (Victor Mature), the ancient Hebrew hero of the Danite Tribe blessed by God with inhuman strength so long as he maintains his one secret vow to the Lord. When a dispute at his engagement banquet devolves into violent destruction, this chosen one turns into a dangerous rebel against the dominating Philistines. Seeking a way to defeat the unstoppable Samson, the Saran of Gaza (George Sanders) finds a solution in Delilah (Hedy Lamar), a fellow Philistine who once loved the hero before he destroyed her family and home in that wedding disaster. Using her great beauty and cunning, Delilah enters into a love affair with Samson to learn the secret of his strength. Yet her quest for vengeance and his yearning for love will bring tragedy and transformation upon them both. Gloriously theatrical, here is a film that proves cinema's unique grandeur.
"No Rating"
My Thoughts
Romeo and Juliet / Samson and Delilah / Baby, you can bet / Their love they didn't deny, as Bruce Springsteen once sang in a live performance of "Fire". I first heard of this film from one of the finest teachers I ever studied under, Dr. Harrison. Second only to another university mentor of mine, Dr. Rogers, (who I know is enormously happy about the Braves' recent success in the MLB World Series), my writing ability is thanks to his tutelage. This literary doctor is a real wizard. He looks very similar to the character, Marley, from the film, Home Alone. Except Dr. Harrison has a rounder head, big glasses, a thicker but smaller white beard, a hunch in his back, and a voice perfect for audio books.
In his classes, he would read aloud so many works like Geoffrey Chaucer, Hedda Gabler, or Joan Didion with an actor's power and a teacher's expertise. In one class, he practically gave a live performance of T.S. Elliot's The Waste Land. I regret doing so, but I forced myself not to act on instinct and applaud him for some socially anxious reason. To be in a class taught by Dr. Harrison was to truly learn about the world. Especially because he would often and suddenly stop instructing us students to share side notes related to our studies from his vast mind.
I cannot remember what he was teaching at the time, but I remember, during one class, he looked up from his textbook resting on his podium, (he always stood and delivered from behind one), and began talking about how the Cecil B. DeMille, one of the architects of cinema, made a late forties film on the Biblical tale of Samson and Delilah. "You'll like it," he told me and the rest of the class. Since then, I have made efforts to experience at least one of this magnificent teacher's artistic recommendations and see this film. My public thanks to Dr. Harrison and all the other teachers who forever changed me for the better.
Samson and Delilah (1949) is a movie's movie, the kind which would be awesome to see on the silver screen even today. Every part of this film is larger-than-life in the best way. The costumes are eye-candy; the set designs are filled with good staging; the big-budget glamour is delectably extravagant; and the acting, because of such a worthy script, is succulent. Sometimes I find an old cinematic piece and must accept some standards of decades-old filmmaking I am not a fan of. These experiences can be poor or just hokey, if entertaining, not unlike more recent flicks. Other times, when I am lucky, I find an old timey film I really connect with and demands I say, "Gosh, now, that's a movie!" Samson and Delilah is such a picture. Unlike the gross, laughable, and hateful little religious flicks produced today, this film is not only a real, handsome production but also creatively intelligent by thematically digging into the technically scant story to find entertaining drama and spiritual depth. This one is a winner.
I always aim to see at least one old film each cinematic year. Not "old films" as described by too many internet denizens, referring to pieces from forty years ago. I mean old films from when the original Warner brothers still ran their film studio. The films my grandparents watched as children, or my great-grandparents saw in theaters around my age. I could wax poetic on the beauty of dusty-old films and their importance to more than just cinema fans. But I am no film professor so I will not give into that lecture. Instead, I will say I just really love old movies.
Gun Crazy, Son of the Sheik (sans that unforgivable plot flaw), 1939's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Bicycle Thief, Miracle on 34th Street. These pre-sixties films have a special magic that cannot be attained anymore. Their filmmaking concepts, casts, crews, cinema cultures, and technologies no longer exist. For me, seeing these films is not about fulfilling some cultural identity requirement or bowing to some intellectual nonsense. Watching them is about discovering real enjoyment from works nearly alien to how I know cinema. Some old films are quaint; meant to be enjoyed in a special perspective. But I have seen several that are so finely crafted they easily surpass many modern films in quality.
One reason for this awe is because olden time cinema was made entirely through ancient, by-hand production practices. Today's blockbusters rely so heavily on computer-generated imagery, enhancements, and tricks that some can be considered not as live-action features but hybrid films like Who Framed Roger Rabbit? There is hardly any true "one-shot take" anymore because technological capabilities permit the illusion of such a feat. Stunts are safe by greater engineering and know-how, no matter how over-the-top they look. Costumes and props are manufactured with state-of-the-art tools like 3D printing. Green screen or, more recently, the more compelling virtual set screens showcased in the television series, The Mandalorian, create alien locales all from a computer. The production resources for casting, scheduling, transportation, payroll, and catering have increased exponentially thanks to the evolving internet; or, even decades ago, by hand-held calculators.
In contrast, old cinema had none of these opportunities, capabilities, or technologies. Computers? Calculators? Modern tools? Digital inventions? Back then, non-existent practically within the common imagination. Everything on screen in 1949's Samson and Delilah, still impressive to behold seventy-two years later, is one-hundred-and-ten percent real and crafted in the hardest ways, without any shortcuts. Sure, there are a few ticks. I am sure Victor Mature's stunt double was not always facing a lion in close-ups but some puppet mock-up. But in long-shots, that lion was real. The filmmakers had no contemporary techniques to use anything except a living, unsafe lion on screen, which feels raw and awesome for a modern viewer like myself.
Contemporarily, the climactic setting of the Philistine temple of Dagon would be filled with CGI extras, simulated environment details like dust, Steadicam visual movements, and clearly digitally crafted heights, like for the idol of the false god that looms over the scene. But in 1949, five years before the invention of mass polio vaccinations, the temple is filled with hundreds and hundreds of real people! The set they reside in is huge and real, without any computer extensions. The camera feels uniquely heavy and tangible, letting the audience's eyes soak in this great set. The Dagon statue and the temple's upper areas are crafted as a nearly forty-foot miniature, later composited with the rest of the shot by archaic editing and printing apparatuses I, once a paid video editor, cannot understand.
Likewise, Samson and Delilah's fake sets are filled with matte paintings, studio lights, and California locales: all real and with a distinct visual flavor I never see today. The costumes, so perfectly a mixture of campy textures, rich colors, inaccurate designs, luxurious tones, and dazzling looks, are real, probably made through the sweat and tears of a ludicrous number of tailors without any contemporary technology. This kind of reality within grandiose films decades before my time is so rare to see and feel today. Except for some sincere artistic crafters, this aesthetic is a lucky consequence from the lack of technological capabilities to make anything that looks or feels artificial. Everything in Samson and Delilah can be touched with absolute certainty, and, greater, impresses me in 2021 as I am sure it did to audiences in 1949.
I mean, how? How did these filmmakers from a relatively ancient time in cinema history survive this limited filmmaking, let alone create lasting, glorious works? Managing hundreds of extras; hauling around dinosaur-sized cameras, lights, and microphones; communicating with people through errand boys and bull horns; maintaining consistency on set; keeping verisimilitude in the cut within production designs where no one can really "fix [any issue] in Post [production]?" I do not know how DeMille and his contemporaries made such magic. They did not even have the special effects wizardry from the seventies, for cryin' out loud. DeMille's crew built and crafted all these sets, costumes, and props; got Samson to fight a real lion without killing anyone; and executed enormous moments all in technicolor camera shots by hand with late forties resources? Golly, it boggles my mind!
I watched this film to pass the time while ill with a bad headache that threatened to become severe. But even without that context, and on my TV rather than on a big ole theater screen, this exquisite filmmaking makes for a great cinematic experience. Samson and Delilah is a "spare-no-expense" kind of production from old-school cinema, with every department clearly told and allowed to give their best work for all (profitable) ages. Admittedly, this praise from me is predictable. I am a sucker for these aged films with that flourishing musical cue which always plays during movie kisses. Still, this handsome film affirms my tastes and wonder.
Yet this artistic grandeur is made truly compelling by how the filmmakers use this quality to present this ancient story, exemplified best by the cinematography led by George Barnes. There are some close-ups, such as whenever Samson and Delilah are nearly nose-to-nose. Much of the film is captured in long through medium shots with theatrical staging typical of this era. For example, when two characters hold a conversation, their faces are mainly towards the camera like a stage actor before a live audience. My favorite shot starts by looking at Delilah in a long shot as she mocks Samson during his imprisonment before moving closer and becoming a close-up as she horrifically learns what her revenge has truly done to him.
Otherwise, the film is shot without much stylistic flair, giving the piece prestige. For when Barnes and DeMille have a scene with the great George "Shere Khan" Sanders as the Saran of Gaza in his throne room trying to decide how to defeat Samson amongst his councilors and Hedy Lamar as Delilah, the pair do not need to do anything but capture the moment. There is no need for extraneous cuts, angles, or editing because the delectable production design speaks for itself. They can simply let the actors play off each other, sinking their metaphorical teeth into this exquisitely meaty script superbly crafted by Harold Lamb, Vladimir Jabotinsky, Jesse L. Lasky Jr., and Fredric M. Frank. Barnes' camera work exemplifies a filmmaking lesson I did not expect from such a bombastic piece. When the production departments are doing such fine work, one must let the scene and those within it exist naturally, lest they disturb the on-screen beauty.
I love this kind of old-fashioned theatre-acting, too. Samson and Delilah reminds me that sly words, grand proclamations, poetic musings, melodramatic confessions, and captivating monologues or exchanges which can only be written by a playwright's hand are immensely difficult to perform. Speaking from my theatre experiences, archaic language tempts one to play a scene with the wrong emphasis and tone or fake their comprehension of the difficult wording structures. Yet these actors get their lines to roll right off their tongues with trust in a mature screenplay I am always impressed to find in any era of cinema. (I love this teasing joke between a Philistine wife and her husband: why cannot she drag her husband by a rope? "Because you're not Delilah," he says). This cast well-portrays the impact and subtleties from the script's lines and stage directions with definite expertise.
As a boy, I always wished to grow up and have the voice quality of someone like George Sanders. He is delightful as the Saran: not cruel, kind-hearted, or evil, but merely the leader of a people ruling over another. He is pragmatic in all he does and cares only to maintain his dominion. Sanders needs only to speak for me to get this neutrally evil antagonist, whose final line is one only an actor of his caliber could deliver so perfectly. The Angela Lansbury, (I am baffled to see her here as a young woman), is a believable princess-type as Samadar, the Philistine woman Samson pines for. Lansbury's long-standing prowess makes this potentially one-dimensional plot device of a character have greater impact in the film. The same goes for Henry Wilcoxon as Prince Ahtur, a Philistine military leader whose hatred for Samson as a romantic and warrior rival is temperamentally played just right. With this cast, the potentially uninteresting support character types thrive from the script's pages and onto the screen.
Of course, the acting glory goes to Lamar and Mature as Delilah and Samson, the former character and actor being the film's best part. Mature plays Samson so charmingly I actually liked the ignorant idiot. This Samson is not, as I have long known the Biblical figure, a man-child brute and stupid author of his own downfall. He is a man of passions. He loves what she should not have for innocent, if selfish, happiness. His first scene with his mother makes him likeable and handsome even as he disobeys her warnings about fraternizing with the Philistines, their conquerors. His violent temper is childishly extreme and natural, not righteous or cruel. His naivety is a tragic flaw rather than deliberate foolishness. Mature's voice also helps Samson feel not like an arrogant strongman with little sympathy but a man self-aware of his constant disobedience in his duty towards his people and God, despite his noble efforts to serve both, by his youthful yearning for life. A fine casting choice.
Even better is Lamar, who, blessedly, considering this film's era, is not written as or directed to be a slut, bitch, witch, destroyer of men, or any unfair, anti-woman adjective. In the best adaptational element, this Delilah is a fully-fledged character. In the original story, Delilah is merely a random woman the Philistine's hired to learn Samson's secrets. She "betrayed" him to them for a hefty reward, (which she receives in this film in an excellent image), and off Delilah goes into the mists of time. Here, she is sister to Semadar, (filling in a mystery from the Biblical text as to who Semadar's nameless sister was), and entirely likeable. She hates Samson for destroying her house, father, and leading to her sister's death, all after he was cheated in a riddle game at his and Semadar's engagement party. This believable motivation makes their initial meeting, with her longing for the masculine charisma of her sister's man, and their later reunion under false pretenses much more compelling.
Lamar owns her every scene, playing off every actor very well. With Lamar's skill and the screenplay giving her character a soul, Delilah becomes a genuine, interesting, believable, and empathetic woman. Fun, appealing, and as passionate as Samson, Delilah is no longer the token evil woman of the story but a heroine in her own right with a perfectly portrayed character arc. Unquestionably, there are truly some fine actors today. Yet, gosh, what a shame they could not work alongside some of these old greats, too.
The script is brilliant beyond Delilah's amazing reimagining. One obvious adaptation issue is that the Bible is violent, but the restrictive Hays Code of this film's era prohibited such natural graphicness in cinema. The filmmakers subvert the Code cleverly. Instead of the Philistine's gouging out Samson's eyes, Delilah demands that no blade touch his skin to assure his survival for torment. So, the Philistine's blind him by forcing a blazing, fiery blade right before his eyes, adhering to her conditions and the Code's. Likewise, Samson does not kill thirty men for garments to pay off his riddle wage's debt, but strips those men, adding a comedic touch that gives him a bit more humanity while avoiding censorship problems.
As a Biblical film, Samson and Delilah's source material is akin to much of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion in style: not an easy fit for dramatization. Sure, the words have vivid imagery and power, but there is not always clear character depth or natural composition fit for a straight-forward, dramatic adaptation audiences can care past epic or religious contexts. To resolve this problem, DeMille and his writers flesh out the story by exploring their characters as human beings, not religious icons. Thus, Delilah is a protagonist; Semadar is portrayed realistically in her little screen time. Miriam, an original character and gentle Danite played by Olive Deering, provides a fun, minor love triangle to the film. The Saran is shown to be a genuine leader, not some devious serial villain. Instead of filling Samson and Delilah with Sunday school moralizing and cheap characterizations, the film gives the story's themes and characters credence and pathos.
The adaptation's most meaningful achievement is a reinterpretation of Samson's tragedy and Delilah's role in his fate. As the story was told to me when I was seven, Samson was blessed by God with great strength to lead his people against the Israelite's conquerors. But he was a sinful moron. Against his mother's warnings and commands, (and thus God's), he hangs out with Philistines he must defend his people from solely because he is in "love" with a Philistine woman; really, lustful for. He is a violent, thuggish man whose naivety in believing he and the women in his life are romantically involved gets him into constant trouble. Like losing the riddle game after telling his nigh bride the answer, who reveals the secret to his challengers. As a metaphorical comparison, he is a temperamental teenage boy gifted with a hot rod car who complains when breaking traffic laws gets him hurt.
Anyone could see that Delilah, not as evil as Jezebel from the Biblical book of Kings but certainly a selfish harlot, does not really love Samson and is out to destroy him. But the dummy still disobeys all good advice from his mother and Lord, confessing the secret of his divine strength: his uncut hair. So, she cuts his locks. He is captured, blinded, and bounded like a mule to crunch grain, and humiliated by the Philistines. When he is brought before his enemies in their temple, he prays for God to regrant his strength and end his suffering by bringing their temple down atop him and his foes, which the Lord grants. The lesson: do not be the stupid hero who ignores their mother and God and take solace in the knowledge that the Lord did not forsake Samson, a fallen hero, to further agony in his hour of greatest need.
Samson and Delilah follows this narrative but with a brilliance the sick fools of Pure Flix (or whatever that company is called now) could never achieve. Here is a wise presentation and interpretation of this Biblical tale, helping me realize that one must give their own dramatic and thematic spin to a religious adaptation, lest the work fail as a narrative and spiritual meditation. For example, one of the all-time great animated films, The Prince of Egypt, re-tells the Biblical tale of Moses with an emphasis on the loving and then strained relationship between him and his adoptive brother, the Pharoah, with powerful results. In a religious film, preaching to the choir or inattentive ears of morals is not enough. One needs not dogma or contemporary ideology at the center of their religious adaptation but themselves. Their heart and discussion with spirituality.
Thus, the usual story elements are here. Samson and Delilah's affair is classic Hollywood romance while the great invention of her revenge against him after initially desiring him complicates the relationship. But the film adds a smart explanation for Samson's powers. He says that God, like the Force in the Star Wars stories, is everywhere and within everyone. God's gift, he says with an uncharacteristic grace for language, are expressed in many ways, like a nobody who is terrific at painting. For him, his gift is great strength, symbolized by the simple promise never to cut his hair, which he has never broken despite, he confesses, all his other vows of humility and honor to the Lord he forsook.
This scene, not directly from any Bible verse in the book of Judges which tells Samson's story, is terrific. The filmmakers add their interpretation of this faith. That God, said to surround and penetrate people and bind the galaxy together, gives people their own unique abilities to do good, a similar ideology found in super-hero comic books. In this version, Samson's strength is not magical but as divine as an ice skater's talents or a right activist's rhetorical skill. This idea is appropriate for this narrative by letting the audience see what these characters can represent and mean for them more critically.
Inaccurately, Delilah at first basks in her conquering of Samson, yet, upon seeing her handiwork, is moved by pity. Humanizing her, (and, of course, Lamar plays this change fantastically), Delilah understands her vengeance is too harsh for even a crafty seducer like herself. That, stupid as they both may be considering their actions towards each other, she still loves Samson, as he does her. When they meet in his mill in another original scene, she offers to free him, thus redeeming herself and saving the man she loves. Yet Samson understands that his upcoming humiliation in the temple is his chance to make things right: to slay his people's rulers and free the Hebrews as was his duty before he succumbed to his vices and frivolities. He warns Delilah not to be in the temple. But, in a great twist, she does go, choosing to help him complete his task he cannot finish without her at the cost of her life.
This depth was unexpected even for a film I had hopes for. Now, as the filmmakers' spiritual response to the story, forgiveness, a tenet of both Christian and Jewish faiths from which Samson's tale originates, is embedded in the piece. Rather than bending the narrative to the ideals of the forties, which could easily have had Samson be a pure savior and Delilah an unredeemable temptress, the film gives its two leads hearts that the source material's technical construction lacked explicitly. Samson does not scorn Delilah, for his love is greater than any hatred, and his final prayer to God is not just for respite but to finish his anointed task. Delilah matures from a jealous girl, for it was she who accidentally began her family's destruction by inventing the scheme to snatch the answer to Samson's riddle for his challengers so she, not her sister, could have him. Her wrath against him is justified but her decency is better than his sin. Remaining imperfect, the pair are redeemed by choosing the noble love within them than their long-practiced, selfish ways.
Oh, I love this kind of drama. Cinematic gold, full of rich character intrigue that is the stuff of moving, timeless stories. Spiritually, DeMille and his cast and crew have infused a great depth Samson's story. Not being slaves to the Bible or using the text as a self-serving message of vain power, they have a conversation with this story and explore the represented faiths' greater meanings. These two screwed-up lovers are given changed souls. When Bible films are done right, no matter what one believes in, they allow an audience to believe they, too, are not meaningless atoms adrift an evil world in empty space but beings with real souls and value.
So, though delayed by many years, my thanks again to Dr. Harrison for his off-hand recommendation I never forgot. Funny, I realize now that one reason I tell of personal histories surrounding applicable films is to remember and thank all those who led me to them. My buddy and his wife joining me to see Dune (2021). My brother for buying me the Pierce Brosnan 007 collection for The World is Not Enough. My sister for bringing The Martian to my attention. Here, an old wizard I had the blessing of being taught by and knowing, however briefly and formally. Whether the film's claim to be adapting the "history" found within the Bible is true or not is irrelevant. The truth within this story is that what matters is here and now, how one treats themselves and others, even if we humans are brief creatures bound for the void. Such knowledge comes from relationships with other people, for good or for ill; all that is needed from stories like this one.
Summary
Astoundingly made and perfectly entertaining, I wish I could have first seen Samson and Delilah on the big screen. Fantastic writing, production design, and an ensemble cast, particularly for the starring lady, make for a picture that presents some of the best old school Hollywood has to offer. The special bonus is the filmmakers' wise inventions for even greater drama and spiritual thoughtfulness, creating one of the most satisfying films I have seen this cinematic year.