Adultery, abortion, venereal disease, prostitution, even full-frontal nudity were all on screen at Cincinnati’s movie theaters a century ago. Audiences flocked to racy “moving pictures” while the State of Ohio attempted to censor films.



Looking back from the blasé Twenty-First Century, we think we know all about the pre-World War I movies. Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Keystone Kops and lots of maudlin melodrama with “soundtracks” provided by piano players with straw boater hats, right? You might be surprised to find that your great-grandparents watched some fairly risqué stuff. Here is a selection of films that played in Cincinnati over just one year – 1916:

Forbidden Fruit

This 1915 film by writer and director Ivan Abramson concerns a young woman who breaks her engagement when she discovers that her fiancé has slept with multiple women. She marries his best friend instead. In a moment of financial panic, her husband forges the ex-fiancé’s name to a stock certificate. The ex-fiancé offers to drop the charges if the woman has sex with him. She does. Drama ensues.

Damaged Goods

Most Cincinnati exhibitors compared “Forbidden Fruit” to a 1914 movie still in circulation titled “Damaged Goods,” which explored the travails of a young married couple whose lives are ruined because the husband contracted syphilis while in college. While censors railed against the loose morals of the film, the Post [21 February 1916] advised teenage girls to see it:

“This scenario contains a wonderful lesson in purity and hygiene and brings out truths which all young people should understand. Ask your mother to go with you and explain the purpose of the play.”

The Little Girl Next Door

Another “lesson” film playing Cincinnati in 1916 was “The Little Girl Next Door” which focused on white slavery and prostitution. The distributor solicited endorsements from local clergy and social workers and advertised the importance of seeing this movie “for your daughter’s sake.” The Cincinnati Enquirer [25 June 1916] described the docudramatic content:

“It really has no plot. It is merely a recital of the lives of several unfortunate girls; how they were trapped, and, in some cases, rescued, and in others forced to lead a life of shame.”

Where Are My Children?

After infidelity, venereal disease and prostitution, it’s no surprise Cincinnati audiences flocked to a film about birth control and abortion. In this Tyrone Power (Senior) vehicle, it is revealed that the wife of an ambitious prosecutor has avoided pregnancy when she can and procured abortions when she can’t, all to maintain her glamorous social calendar. Audiences packed the Grand Opera House on Vine Street for two months at inflated prices of 25 cents to watch this melodrama.

The Eternal Sapho

Cincinnati’s own Theda Bara got into the censor’s crosshairs with “The Eternal Sapho.” Based on a French novel, the film tracks Bara as, of course, a vamp who schemes the marry a rich man but is forced to return to a poor sculptor, only to discover that he has committed suicide. This leads her into insanity. The manager of the Walnut Theater, where “The Eternal Sapho” was exhibited found himself arrested on charges preferred by a local minister who claimed the Cincinnati theater was showing a print containing scenes ordered excised by Ohio censors. The Cincinnati Post [9 May 1916] gave the film a good, if circumspect, review:

“The ‘Sapho’ of Theda Bara is a very vital, a beautiful and interesting thing. Sometimes we have suspected – even said – that the acting art of our own Theda is limited to big eyes and an ability to shiver; but that suspicion is unfounded. In ‘The Eternal Sapho,’ a Fox film, now on exhibition, Miss Bara has a big role, and she fills it. No adjectives necessary. When you’ve said that of any role, you’ve said all there was to say, you know.”

Undine

While the films described so far tested the limits of censorship with situational content like extramarital sex, infidelity, venereal disease and prostitution, Ida Schnall’s 1916 film, “Undine,” went for sheer – very sheer, apparently – exhibitionism. Schnall was famous for her athleticism as a swimmer, diver, skater and baseball player. Undine was about mermaids. The film played at the Nordland – now known as Bogart’s. Trade publication The Moving Picture World [5 February 1916] described the attraction:

“’Undine’ promises to uncover possibilities for a sensational vogue – and ‘uncover’ is a word well chosen.”

Purity

While “Undine” attracted audiences with scantily clad mermaids, “Purity” featured total female nudity, in the form of a true 1916 supermodel named Audrey Munson. Famous – or infamous – for her career as an artist’s model, Munson portrayed Purity, a country girl who gains employment as (Surprise!) an artist’s model and wins the affections of a young poet. He rejects her when he learns of her scandalous profession – until he discovers that she was saving up her modeling fees to pay for publication of his first book. Multiple scenes involve Munson naked in the studio and in nature. How did this get by the Ohio censors? The Cincinnati Post [23 January 1917] explained:

“Ohio censors have decided there may be such a thing as nude art in the photoplay, just as there are in pictures and statuary. As a result ‘Purity,’ the big ‘morality photodrama,’ featuring Audrey Munson, artist’s model, will be given its first showing in Cincinnati next week at the Walnut. Miss Munson has been rated as possessing a perfect feminine physique.”

The Enquirer [29 January 1917] approved:

“Its frank treatment of the subject of art, and its arraignment of mawkish prudery are the things that stand out with virile force.”

Your proprietor believes that last comment to be an intentional double entendre, but the author of that amazing line is, alas, no longer available to interrogate about things that “stand out with virile force.”