The Kings of Warners

The Arliss Archives include holdings indirectly related to George Arliss. In this post, we’ll take a look at some material highlighting Mr. A’s colleagues. When Warner Bros. signed George Arliss in the summer of 1928 to make three “talking pictures,” he joined the ranks of two other super stars of that studio – Al Jolson and John Barrymore.

No, this photo is not Mr. A arriving at Warners. I can’t place the occasion but it looks like a movie still. It was taken some time in the early to mid 1920s (judging by the automobile) but the original photo annotation suggests a candid shot. Florence Arliss was fond of little dogs, Mr. A apparently less so:

Al Jolson was the musical comedy sensation of Broadway and Warners had to pay dearly to acquire his talents. Jolson thought the Brothers were on to something with Vitaphone but they didn’t have much ready cash. Al agreed to take partial payment in studio shares of stock and became wealthy as a result:

Everybody knows that THE JAZZ SINGER (1927) was the first commercially successful sound film. Less well known is that the follow up, THE SINGING FOOL (1928), was an even bigger moneymaker:

John Barrymore had made four epic silent films for Warners in the mid 20s following his theater triumph in HAMLET, so the Brothers were eager to get him back when sound came in. In those days, it seems that no expense was spared in making a Barrymore film.

The composition of this photo from his first talkie, GENERAL CRACK (1930), seems inspired by late 18th century portraits:

Fans could even read the novel of GENERAL CRACK in movie magazines of the day, complete with an elaborately painted cover portrait of the Great Profile:

Kings usually help each other and the protocol was no different at Warners. Here Barrymore and Jolson lend their support to Mr. A’s first talkie:

Warners also acquired an upcoming dramatic star of the theater who had actually corresponded with George Arliss some 20 years earlier, then appeared in support of Mr. A on the stage in 1920. Here is an uncharacteristically dapper Edward G. Robinson:

This next photo might be called, “Kings in Exile.” Mr. A is in costume for OLD ENGLISH (1930) and the film’s director Alfred Green stands to his left. The other three gentlemen are all legendary stars of the theater: standing behind Mr. A is Otis Skinner; seated next to him is Wilton Lackaye; and the gentleman standing on the right is Winthrop Ames who produced all of the Arliss theatrical hits of the 1920s. The lady is the equally legendary Maude Howell, who was Mr. A’s stage manager, then associate director, associate producer, and contributing writer on the Arliss films:

Eventually, the Kings of Warners followed in Mr. A’s footsteps in making biopics (historical biographical films). Here Edward G. Robinson discovers the cure for syphilis in DR. EHRLICH’S MAGIC BULLET (1940) with Otto Kruger:

John Barrymore resumed wearing a powdered wig to portray King Louis XV in MARIE ANTOINETTE (1938):

Darryl Zanuck even persuaded Al Jolson to play 19th century minstrel E.P. Christy in the Technicolor SWANEE RIVER (1939) with Don Ameche and Andrea Leeds as Stephen Foster and his long-suffering wife. This is a b/w photo rendered into faux Technicolor:

And now for something completely different – these two gents could be the maternal and paternal grandfathers of the Marx Brothers (in an artistic sense, they were), but they’re actually the Broadway producer/comedy team of Joe Weber and Lew Fields. These fellows invented the dramatic parody in the 1890s that’s been a staple of American comedy ever since, right up to today’s skits on SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, making them theater kings in their own right:

Beginning their act in 1877, here they are in 1940 still going strong. Arliss was a relative latecomer only beginning his career in 1887!

Out of costume, Joe and Lew looked more respectable when they moved to Hollywood in the late 1930s. There they spent many delightful evenings reminiscing about the old days with their friend, Mr. A (and it would be great to find a photo of the three of them together!):

Next week’s post will be very special in celebration of Mr. A’s birthday on April 10th. We’ll take a look at his masterwork – DISRAELI – the play, the silent film, the talkie, and the radio broadcast. With the exception of Shakespeare, I doubt there has been another dramatic work that has been adapted into so many different media as DISRAELI, and which starred the same actor.

The Green Goddess

The seething East, hostages, civil unrest, despotic rulers, hatred of the West, reprisal killings – sounds like today’s news. In fact, these are plot elements from THE GREEN GODDESS, a hit play for George Arliss in 1921, that he made as a silent film in 1923, and again as a sound film in 1929. So how can something so old be so topical in the 21st Century?

The play was a first-time effort by veteran drama critic William Archer, based on a dream he had. Archer earlier published a book that set down rules for playwrights whereby he all but guaranteed that following his rules would assure success. Archer then ignored all his own rules in writing THE GREEN GODDESS.

The temple of the Green Goddess but the play’s title actually refers to another type of green-jealousy. This is the set from the 1923 silent version.

Arliss plays the omnipotent Rajah of Rukh, a small kingdom somewhere in the Himalayas. Western educated, but hateful of the British, the Rajah finds himself unexpectedly the host of three British survivors of a plane crash.

The Rajah impresses his guests with his militia.

Ever the perfect host, the Rajah gradually explains that he is holding the trio as hostages. His brothers have assassinated a British official and are due to be executed – so “an eye for an eye.”

The three “guests” – Major Crespin, his wife Lucilla, and Dr. Traherne – keep their wits, bribe the Rajah’s English valet, and attempt to send a wireless call for help.


Major Crespin is fatally shot by the Rajah and confesses that he failed to send the radio message for help. Arliss, Harry T. Morey, and Alice Joyce in the 1923 silent version.

But the Rajah is willing to spare Lucilla – if she becomes one of his wives. The silent version with Jetta Goudal as a lady in waiting.


To sweeten his offer, the Rajah proposes to kidnap Lucilla’s children and bring them to her in Rukh. Arliss and Alice Joyce again, but from the 1929 talkie version.

The Rajah’s ultimatum-return to the palace as his wife or be dragged back as his slave:

The sacrifice proceeds as planned with the two surviving guests, Lucilla and Dr. Traherne – –

Arliss, Alice Joyce, and Ralph Forbes in the talkie version.

— but the Major lied – his message did get through and the RAF arrives with bombs.

Now a deposed despot, the Rajah consoles himself over losing Lucilla with the classic closing line: “She’d
probably have been a damned nuisance.”

A lucky playgoer of 1924 not only preserved the ticket stub, but got Mr. A to autograph the playbill:

Notice the ad in the lower left of the playbill for the book edition- here’s the cover:

Finally, a rarity – the last page of the silent film script. Notice that Arliss’s exit line is faithfully preserved:

[Click on this image to access “hidden” frame captures from the 1929 film]

Notes: George Arliss was nominated for the Best Actor Academy Award both for THE GREEN GODDESS and for DISRAELI. He won for DISRAELI, thereby becoming the only actor in film history to compete against himself for the Oscar. Also, THE GREEN GODDESS was actually filmed prior to DISRAELI during the summer of 1929 but was not released until February 1930, some four months after DISRAELI’s release. Why? That’s another story.

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