starring Raymond Hatton, Elliott Dexter and Kathlyn Williams
April 5, 1918

As Artcraft-Paramount production that carries a dramatic wallop, although slightly gruesome at the finish. No star. The feature is billed as an "All-Star Production." A number of leading people who have been supporting the Paramount and Artcraft stars are in it, and they are supposed to represent an all-star cast. The story was adapted by Jessie (sic - should be Jeanie) MacPherson from the original by Perley Poore Sheehan and directed by Cecil B. DeMille. At the Rialto in the billing and program matter, DeMille was featured above the picture itself. "The Whispering Chorus" is intended to represent the small voices and thoughts of the average mind that work for good and evil. The thought is a good one for the purposes of picturization and the manner in which it is worked out interests. The usual tricks of double exposure employed in setting the story on the screen, but they are not worked to death.

The plot concerns a clerk making a small salary and living with his wife and mother. He falsifies his books and steals from his employer until such time that a state investigation of the firm's books is about to show the shortage, and then he runs away. But he also arranges things to appear as though he had been murdered, and the investigator in the affair falls in love with the widow and marries her. Subsequently he is elected Governor.

Afer two years, the erring husband returns home under an assumed name and is captured by the police and charged with his own murder. His mother dies from shock on his return, and the wife fails to recognize him at first. He is convicted and goes to the chair. At the last minute, the wife goes to him and realized it is her former husband. But his better nature asserts itself, and he decides to pay the penalty rather than ruin her life and hapiness.

The production is amost effective one, and the direction is admirable. There are several thrills in the way of fights and such, but it is the lighting of the celebration of the Chinese New Year in Shanghai that is the most effective work.

Of the cast, Raymond Hatton, as the defaulter, is by far the best, presenting a remarkable characterization. Elliott Dexter is the leading man, and Kathlyn William plays the wife. She is exceedingly pleasing. Tully Marshall has a small meaningless role. Gustav von Seyffertitiz is the "face" for evil in the double exposures and scores.

As a feature production, "The Whispering Chorus" stands with the best.

starring Raymond Hatton, Elliott Dexter and Kathlyn Williams
June, 1918

To any one desiring a wholly miserable afternoon or evening, we cheerfully recommend Cecil DeMille's production, "The Whispering Chorus," based on a story by Perley Poore Sheehan. "The Whispering Chorus" is guaranteed to take the joy out of life. Herein John Trimble steals from his employer, deserts his wife, runs away when detection threatens, and then fakes his own "murder." Trimble finds the body of a drowned man, disfigures it so that it is unrecognizable, dresses it in his own clothes, leaves various notes indicating a fear of murder at the hands of a mysterious Edgar Smith, and disappears. The body is found, and some years later, Mrs. Trimble marries a man who finally becomes Governor of the State.

Trimble, now a derelict, is arrested as Edgar Smith, tried and convicted of murdering himself. His plot has proven a boomerang, and he is actually sentenced to the chair for the crime he faked. Trimble goes to his doom without telling his secret, thus protecting his former wife's happiness. The whispering chorus of the title is made up of the wee sma' voices which whisper in your ear and mine when you think about doing something naughty.

Right now one of these wee sma' voices is whispering to us to forget all about saying anything unkind of "The Whispering Chorus." But we are telling the sma' voice to beat it. The truth must be told. "The Whispering Chorus" is well done, but it is the quintessence of morbidness. There is only one antidote for its seven reels of disfigured corpses, morgues, dope-wrecked derelicts, death-cell glimpses and electric-chair moments. The antidote? About fourteen reels of Keystone bathing-girls. Raymond Hatton presents the disintegration of Trimble in graphic fashion.

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