Cecil B. DeMille was one of the pioneers of the American film industry, and you have to give him credit for that. He was also one of the first to pack his films with gratuitous sex and violence, and you have to give him credit for that. He got away with it by inserting preachy moral "messages" that proved the "evil" of everything he had just shoved in your face, and you have to give him credit for that. His films were enjoyable in a goofy sort of way, but that doesn't apply to this one.<br /><br />There's one thing that DeMille could never be accused of, and that's cutting corners. His movies were expensive, and they looked it. They were usually also packed with well-known stars such as Gary Cooper and Charlton Heston. The one thing that few of his movies had, though, was a coherent script, and this movie is a prime example. Stars, production values, spectacle...whatever advantages this film has are sunk by the absolutely idiotic dialogue the actors are forced to spew out. You have to wonder what the actors were thinking as they were reciting this drivel. You also have to wonder what the writers were thinking as they were whipping this junk up; didn't they realize that people don't even _remotely_ talk or act like they do in this movie? Everything in this film is overblown, overheated and overdone. The only other one of DeMille's films I can think of offhand that goes even further over the edge is "Northwest Mounted Police," which is so jaw-droppingly awful it should be classified as a comedy.<br /><br />As long as you realize what you're getting into, the movie is fun in a goofball, campy sort of way. If you're looking for anything else, forget it.