Dead now 57 years, Cecil B. De Mille (he spelled it in various ways) remains one of Hollywood’s greatest-ever directors, with some its biggest, most lucrative, and most popular films — including The Ten Commandments and The Greatest Show on Earth, and silent classics like The King of Kings — to his credit. He even acted on occasion, and his cameo performance in Sunset Boulevard showed a real comfort in front of the camera. Often looked down upon by critical snoots, there was no denying that his stature is deservedly as huge as the casts he directed in cinema’s epic . . . epics. Hence a prestigious Golden Globe award named in his honor.

De Mille was also a big conservative, and active. This at a time — of Wayne, Hope, Menjou, Stewart, Ford, and so many others (Reagan! Murphy!) — when it wasn’t a crime to be publicly right-of-center in Hollywood. And he was a friend of this magazine: The back cover of National Review’s 1955 premiere issue showcased “Greetings” from various important types (including Ludwig von Mises), and on the top right, in the most eye-worthy position, was that of the great director:

His message to NR remains relevant today. I wonder, though, if and when the lefty awardees who have clutched their De Mille awards while flashing their pearly whites for the paparazzi — Clooney, De Niro, Streisand, Streep, Redford, Williams — get wind of just who this man really was, will they try to remove his name from the honor?