Rarely seen 'Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love, 1931, packs BYU's Varsity Theater

 

Review/observations by Doug Gibson

For about a couple decades, I had longed to view the early sound film "based" on a segment of The Book of Mormon. It's "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love," 1931. With artistic license, it tells of Alma's somewhat troublesome son, Corianton, and his involvement with the harlot, Isabel. This is all part of Alma's letters to Corianton in Book of Alma, chapters 39-42.

Now that's not Isabel reclining and wearing very little in the poster above. But the woman -- an extra -- is in the film, and dressed as such. Corianton ... premiered in Salt Lake City and then promptly flopped at the box office. Ultimately, more money was likely earned by lawyers litigating over the film than at the box office. It's a low-budget black and white film that once aspired to be in color. The Great Depression cut fundraising severely, and it limps to its climax, with the final scenes - a battle between the Zoramites and the Righteous -- a mixture of stock footage from the 1922 big-budget film "Sodom and Gomorrha," and the Corianton ... film actors passionately fighting, arguing, and dying on what looks like a stage.

Nevertheless, I loved this film after watching a restored version that played at BYU's Varsity Theater the last Friday of January. The BYU Motion Picture Archives hosted the event, and the Varsity Theater was packed. (Granted there was no charge, but that's still a great crowd). Panelists -- including author/historian Ardis E. Parshall, and Ben Harry, curator of BYU's Motion Picture archives, provided commentary before and after the film.

(A lot of the back history of this film mentioned in this blog post, as well as many of its artistic merits, pro and con, was also observed by the panelists and noted in a book on Corianton edited by Parshall. Here is one still from the film, below.)

Parshall, by the way recently edited a book -- The Corianton Saga -- covering the history of the Corianton story adaptations. It was first a novella by LDS General Authority B.H. Roberts, titled Corianton: A Nephite Story, then adapted into a play by an eccentric Latter-day Saint named Orestes U. Bean, who developed an obsession with the story he had appropriated from Roberts, as well as another late-19th century Book of Mormon-themed novel titled, A Ship of Hagoth, by Julia A. McDonald.

The play was titled "Corianton." It played well in what is described as the "Mormon corridor," or areas heavily populated by Latter-day Saints. When its backers took the play to parts east of the Rocky Mountain West -- including New York City -- it failed. In New York City, Bean titled it "An Aztec Romance."

A little backstory: In the late 19th century, there was an effort from LDS leaders to create art from the Scriptures, and the church's doctrine and its early struggles. Besides the aforementioned books that resulted, there was Nephi Anderson's tale that included the pre-existence, Added Upon. That book was in my family's library as I was growing up. Besides novels there were plays and short stories. I recall reading one by Anderson in which a lazy LDS teenager -- too bored to attend church -- was thrust into a dream where he experiences the pre-Utah persecution of the Saints. This sort of "'Mormon Renaissance" was the precursor of the film, "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love."

I know I am meandering so I'll try to get to the film. In the 1920s, an entrepreneur named Lester Park, after watching impressive films like "Ben Hur" gain notice, acclaim, and box-office money, decided that the story of Corianton would be box-office gold. The project was successful early, and even the tepid resulting film has evidences of the early money. It was filmed in New Jersey. Its music composer was from "Ben Hur," The film's orchestra music was overseen by the former head of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra of New York City. Professional dancers were in the film, and the LDS Tabernacle Choir and Great Organ is heard in the film. I mentioned that an original idea was to shoot the film in color.

But, as mentioned, the money started to dry up. And there was a second problem; the play's mercurial, eccentric, odd, creator, the aforementioned Orestes Bean. He had finagled himself a lot of control over the production, which caused headaches for director Wilfrid North and the film crew. In fact, a lot of the film was shot in a hurry while Bean was off getting married, and absent from the set.

Corianton ... starts with the trial of Korihor. Corianton is a fan of the apostate, and critic of his father Alma. His faith is re-energized once he sees Korihor struck dumb and he goes off on his mission, with his brother Shiblon. Once with the Zoramites, though, he becomes too friendly with Zoramite nobleman, Prince Seantum. Seantum conspires with his mistress, Isobel, to get Coriantumr infatuated with her. The plan, which works to perfection, lures Coriantumr to a swinging Zoramite party where he's fed lots of wine by Isobel. Once his drunkeness is publicized by Seantum and others, the reputation of the missionaries is tarnished.

Prince Seantum is not in The Book of Mormon. Nor is a woman named Relia, a pious woman who is engaged to Shiblon but actually in love with Corianton. Meanwhile, Isobel, despite her treachery, falls in love with Corianton, who feels regret at what he has done. This all really upsets Seantum, who plots not only the murder of Corianton and Isobel, but plans to lead an army and destroy the righeous Nephites. The climax of the film is that battle.

I'm conditioned not to reveal the end of movies, which is kind of unfair since Harry told the audience at the Varsity Theater that there are no plans to release this film, as a DVD, or on YouTube, or on TV. However, interested readers can purchase the book Parshall edited, as it contains the entire film script.

This is not a traditionally good movie. I would give it 1.5 stars out of 4. But it's still so interesting to watch. If I could, I'd buy 40 copies and give them to likeminded friends. As Harry noted, "(the film) is a holdover from an earlier era." Pomp and majesty, and drama, and very loud talking is how the film conveys its religious message. It's not like films today which focus on emotion and deep spirituality to convey a religious message. As Harry noted, it's a lot like "Ben Hur" was in its religious delivery.

"We need to watch with one eye in 1931 and one eye in 2023," Harry added. (See another still from the film below.)

My opinion of the film is that it mixes three different artistic styles, the creaky, still under-developed sound technology of 1931, the pantomime, emotional style of silent cinema, and the loud, let's-project-our-voice-through-the-auditorium of the traditional stage. (Harry also noted a couple of these observations.)

Much of the overly emotional, tragedian (particularly from the actor who played Shiblon) acting in the film is risible today, and there were a dozen-plus incidents in the film that evoked respectful laughter.

As was noted by Parshall, an unhealthy influence of too much Orestes Bean found itself into the script as the film progresses. Suddenly, the actors started to talk in a Shakespearean manner. "(Bean liked) thees and thous," Parshall told the audience. Parshall does note that these were talented artists, on both sides of the camera.

Much of the film's faults are due to the lack of money as filming progressed. The "Beanish" script didn't help, and the normal-for-the-times overly dramatic, tragedy-like lamenting over-acting doesn't go over well today, and invites giggles from the audience. Those who have read The Book of Mormon, I feel comfortable saying, won't see "Korihor," or "Alma," in the actors on the screen.

One favorable note for this film is it underscores the progressive nature of Mormonism when it comes to salvation. During the climax, actors express their confidence that God will forgive them of their sins, accept their repentence, and welcome them to heaven. In fact, one character claims that he received revelation that Korihor had been saved.

Also, the two leads, Eric Alden as Corianton, and Theo Pennington, as Zoan Ze Isabel, are great in their roles. (In what strikes me as humorous, I learned at the film showing that Bean's wife eventually changed her name to Zoan Ze Isabel. Bean, by the way, in the latter years of his life, lectured on his play/movie extensively in southern California, to large crowds. He had a missionary zeal for it.)

Finally, I want to mention one more interesting fact about "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love." It's a fairly racy film, although that was not uncommon in that film era. There are many dancers dressed like the woman in the above poster. And there is a scene, where an angry Corianton is confronting a penitent Isobel, where Theo Pennington is visibly nude under a thin negligee. One panelist, I cannot recall which, did opine that box office receipts likely dropped after parents had second thoughts about children attending. Frankly, the film would probably garner a PG or PG-13 today, or soft R if the MPAA was in a prudish mood.

I am so glad I saw this historical gemstone. It has so much much value, particular for the cultural history of Mormonism. I appreciate Parshall, Terry and others for publicizing the film and restoring it. It played a decade or so ago at BYU but I missed it. This newer restored version include subtitles, which was helpful. The audience clearly appreciated the film. Harry promised the film will eventually get another showing, and said that a new print has been discovered in California, under a different title. 

(Below, one more still/poster, with the leads "Corianton" and "Isobel.")

B.H. Roberts spent most of his life defending 'The Book of Mormon'

I ran across an interesting article in the Summer 1979 issue of Brigham Young University Studies. It’s “B.H. Roberts and The Book of Mormon,” and was written by Truman Madsen. Roberts was a remarkable man. Born in England, his birth father, and later a stepfather, both abandoned him and his family. He migrated to Utah early in his life and settled through a few rocky years struggling with the Word of Wisdom before straightening out, and eventually became a general authority at the age of 31.

He remained one for the rest of his life, dying in 1933 at 76. He served in World War I as a chaplain and was elected to the U.S. Congress in 1898, although that body refused to seat him because he was a polygamist. He married three wives and had 15 children.

Roberts was unique within the LDS hierarchy for his reasoning that evolution and Gospel doctrines did not conflict. He wrote a book, “The Truth, The Way, The Life,” that was not published due to the objections of creationist Apostle Joseph Fielding Smith. It eventually was published in 1994.

In the mid-1890s Roberts almost left the church over a disagreement on whether church authorities could be active in politics. He eventually apologized for the near apostasy.

Despite his maverick views, Roberts was respected by his colleagues in the church hierarchy. He was fascinated by “The Book of Mormon,” at one point calling it the “fifth Gospel.” He spent much of the second half of his life defending the book. According to Madsen’s piece, the unique doctrines of “The Book of Mormon” — so different from traditional christianity — and the biblical and historical knowledge within “The Book of Mormon” made it impossible for any man as unlearned as Joseph Smith to create it from scratch. “It imposes what Roberts called ‘a greater tax on human credulity’ to say Joseph Smith, or anyone in the nineteenth century, created it,” writes Madsen.

Roberts, explains Madsen, has a different viewpoint of what the book’s translation was like than perhaps the typical Latter-day Saint. Roberts did not regard it as “magical,” or in other words, just viewing the Urim and Thummim, seeing words, and writing them down. “On the contrary, ‘brain sweat’ was required, and preparation, and labor,” writes Madsen.

Besides, word-for-word translation is impossible, Roberts maintained. Smith had to use, in instances, what he had available to translate. That explains near copies of biblical chapters, biblical-like phrases, and even the inclusion of terms such as horses in “The Book of Mormon.”

Madsen lists 10 “attributes that define Roberts’ devotion to “The Book of Mormon.” One bit of information that surprised me was that Roberts enjoyed writing creative fiction based on “The Book of Mormon.” I hope it was better than most of the kitsch published today.

He wrote stories about Moroni, the Nephite nation and even a novel about Alma’s son, Corianton, which is described as “a tale of sneaking indulgence, and remorse and renewal.” I have read it and it’s a kitschy, fun read available for free on the Internet or via Kindle. Madsen adds that Roberts desperately wanted to see a major film based on “The Book of Mormon” produced. A movie was made of the Corianton novel, BYU has the only remaining copy and it was shown several years ago.

One category Madsen describes Roberts in regards to “The Book of Mormon” is the role of “devil’s advocate.” As mentioned earlier, Roberts intellect brought him much respect among general authorities. He spent many of the final years of his life providing church leaders with hypothetical attacks on the legitimacy of “The Book of Mormon.” These efforts, which Madsen compares to a skilled lawyer preparing to better understand a courtroom adversary, have led to claims that Roberts lost or questioned his testimony regarding “The Book of Mormon.”

Madsen doubts these assertions. Roberts told colleagues that these reports were never intended to be balanced. They were intended as tools to increase learning about “The Book of Mormon.”

Roberts’ greatest influence as a church leader is that his example reminds us that our beliefs need to be tested for them to grow. If they remain unchallenged, they stay weak and susceptible to failure in times of stress.

Yet Roberts remained in awe of the personal power “The Book of Mormon” gave him. Madsen writes, “Though renowned for his gifts as a speaker, B.H. Roberts agonized over the fact that he could never communicate the intensity, the power, the consuming white light that seemed to him to shine through the book.”

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardNET