Proving once and for all that bizarre artsiness in film didn't begin with 40s experiments, or exist only in elitist European circles, Salomé is a home-grown attempt to raise the artistic level of American films. Imperious silent movie queen Alla Nazimova had already done a personal adaptation of A Doll's House as an independent producer, and for this biblical story, from a scandalous play by Oscar Wilde, she drenched the screen in artistic trappings

It's directed by her husband, and designed by Natacha Rambova, an actress and costume designer soon to be the wife of Rudolph Valentino.

Salomé is one of those films that looks better in stills than watching it on a screen. The costumes and pictorial effects are more important than the story, which could have been completely covered in a two-reel short subject. Like many ambitious Hollywood producers, Nazimova interpreted Art as non-cinematic graphic effects, and gorgeous glamour lighting.

Another point of interest is the film's sexuality. Silent film fans keen enough to want the picture are already going to know about Nazimova's bisexuality, etc. The film's sensual atmosphere doesn't stop at the daring (for 1923) costumes - Herodias' strange leotard, Salomé's tiny dress. The Captain of the Guard and a young page played by Arthur Jasmine cavort in an openly affectionate manner too, while Salome's blowsy mom crawls all over the jaded noble seated next to her at the banquet. The effect now is of high kitch and forced naughtiness, but it's all of a piece, right down to the servant who kills himself rather than bring bad news to Herod, and the Guard's suicidal ardor for Salomé.

Music is Petula Clark, "Romeo" Chante en Francais from Robert Stolz's SALOME...1919