No. 10 briefly forbids pictures which deal with counterfeiting, seemingly under the impression that if this particular crime is never mentioned the members of the underworld may possibly forget its existence. In No. 11 there is the direct prohibition of "scenes showing men and women living together without marriage." Here the greatest difficulty will fall upon those film manufacturers who deal in travel pictures. No exhibitor is safe in flashing upon a screen the picture of a cannibal man and woman and several little cannibals in front of their hut without first ascertaining from the camera man that he went inside and inspected the wedding certificate. No. 13 forbids the use of "profane and objectionable language," which we shall find later has been construed to include the simple "Hell."
Under 15 we find this ruling: "Views of incendiarism, burning, wrecking, and the destruction of property, which may put like action into the minds of those of evil instincts, or may degrade the morals of the young, will be disapproved."
In other words, Nero may fiddle to his heart's content, but he must do it without the inspiration of the burning of Rome. Curiously enough, throughout all the rules of censorship there runs a continuous train of reasoning that the pictures must be adapted to the capacity and mentality of the lowest possible person who could wander into a picture house. The picture-loving public, in the minds of the censors, seems to be honeycombed with potential murderers, incendiaries, and counterfeiters. Rule No. 16 discourages scenes of drunkenness, and adds chivalrously: "Especially if women have a part in the scenes."
Next we come to a rule which would handicap vastly any attempt to reproduce Stevenson or any other lover of the picaresque upon the screen. "Pictures which deal at length with gun play," says Rule 17, "and the use of knives, and are set in the underworld, will be disapproved. Prolonged fighting scenes will be shortened and brutal fights will be wholly disapproved."
What, we wonder, would the censors do with a picture about Thermopylæ? Would they, we wonder, command that resistance be shortened if the picture was to escape the ban? The Alamo was another fight which dragged on unduly, and Grant was guilty of great disrespect in his famous "If it takes all summer," not to mention the impudent incitement toward the prolongation of a fight in Lawrence's "Don't give up the ship."
No. 19 suggests difficulties in its ban on "sensual kissing and love-making scenes." Naturally the question arises: "At just what point does a kiss become sensual?" Here the censors, to their credit, have been clear and definite in their ruling. They have decided that a kiss remains chaste for ten feet. If held upon the screen for as much as an inch above this limit, it changes character and becomes sensual. Here, at any rate, morality has been measured with an exactitude which is rare.
No. 20 is puzzling. It begins, liberally enough, with the announcement that "Views of women smoking will not be disapproved as such," but then adds belatedly that this ruling does not apply if "their manner of smoking is suggestive." Suggestive of what, I wonder? Perhaps the censors mean that it is all right for women to smoke in moving pictures if only they don't inhale, but it would have been much more simple to have said just that. No. 22 is the famous proclamation that the classics, as well as other themes, must meet Pennsylvania requirements, and in 23 we have a fine general rule which covers almost anything a censor may want to do. "Themes or incidents in picture stories," it reads, "which are designed to inflame the mind to improper adventures, or to establish false standards of conduct, coming under the foregoing classes, or of other kinds, will be disapproved. Pictures will be judged as a whole, with a view to their final total effect; those portraying evil in any form which may be easily remembered or emulated will be disapproved."
Perhaps there are still some who remain unconvinced as to the excesses of censorship. The argument may be advanced that nothing is wrong with the rules mentioned if only they are enforced with discretion and intelligence. In answer to this plea the best thing to do would be to consider a few of the eliminations in definite pictures which were required by the Pennsylvania board and by the one in Ohio which operates under a somewhat similar set of regulations. An industrial play called "The Whistle" was banned in its entirety in Pennsylvania under the following ruling: "Disapproved under Section 6 of the Act of 1915. Symbolism of the title raises class antagonism and hatred, and throughout subtitles, scenes, and incidents have the same effect."
But most astounding of all was the final observation: "Child-labor and factory laws of this State would make incident shown impossible." In other words, if a thing did not happen in Pennsylvania it is assumed not to have happened at all. It is entirely possible that the next producer who brings an Indian picture to the censors may be asked to eliminate the elephants on the ground that "there aren't any in this State."
The same State ordered out of "Officer Cupid," a comedy, a scene in which one of the chief comedians was seen robbing a safe, presumably under the section against showing crime upon the stage.