La Déesse rouge

I used to own an old VHS tape of "The Green Goddess" (1930), but it's been years since I had any of those old tapes. Yesterday I re-watched this George Arliss vehicle for the first time in at least 30 years, and I enjoyed it all over again. It's dated, yes, and unfortunately Ralph Forbes is in it, a person who never learned to act in sound films, period. But Arliss is such a superb actor that, no matter what, the film is so very fun to watch. He's so full of Victorian stage acting technique that one can't help but be captured by a certain hamminess that screams to the rafters, but it's in his liquid body movements, full of grace and poise, and a voice that registers practice and experience that gives his performances across the board a positive charisma still noticeable 80 years after his death.

The premise of the film is absolute nonsense, a mixture of "Lost Horizon", "Gunga Din", "Frankenstein", "Dracula", and all the revenge films combined. In the end, the British ("civilization") still beat the underdog people in the Himalaya's (India, "barbarians"). The words in parentheses are those of Arliss, who, when he speaks them as a man of India, is scathing in their satiric intent. One can't help but notice that Arliss was having a ball playing this character, even in the face of Winston Churchill's trying to hold on to India as a "piece" of Britain, and Arliss probably saw in his own life that such would not be the long-term fate for Britain.

The main thing that I took away, though, was that the final line in the film I always thought was, "She probably would have been a lot of trouble anyway!" What came out of Arliss' mouth was, "She probably would have been a damn nuisance anyway!" Perhaps Bob Fells could answer this question: were there two versions released? Was one made for British audiences and one for American audiences, or am I just imagining all of this. I've seen the '23 silent version, too, but I don't remember how it ends. Help, Bob!

Also in the film are Alice Joyce (who'd also been in the '23 version), H. B. Warner, Ivan F. Simpson (great personal friend of Arliss' and one who was in many Arliss films), Reginald Sheffield, Nigel de Brulier, and several others.

This was one of Warner Brothers' early talking picture experiments, made in late 1929 and released in 1930. The main thrust behind Warner Brothers' being first in talking pictures with "The Jazz Singer" died with its premiere - Sam Warner died just before the Jazz Singer opened. Since the other brothers had been dragged kicking and screaming into the talking picture era, Warner Brothers fumbled around from that point until late 1930 when they truly began to find their stride. This film is from their "fumbling era" of 1928-1930.

That doesn't mean that this picture or any of their other experiments are necessarily bad, it just means that they are truly experimenting at this point with somewhat kooky plots they would never try just a couple of years later. Warner Brothers was very fortunate during this time to continue a long running relationship they had with one star of the stage - John Barrymore - and begin a relationship with another - Mr. George Arliss. His acting is the main reason to watch this film.

Here Arliss plays the wise and wizened Raja of the mythical kingdom of Rukh. The day before his three brothers are to be executed for an assassination of a British official in India, three British citizens crash land in his kingdom, having gotten lost in the fog over the Himilayas. The primitive people of his kingdom, who worship a green goddess, see this as a gift from the goddess - a British life each for the lives of the Raja's three brothers taken by the British. The three British prisoners had quite a bit of drama in their lives even before landing in this mess. Major Crespin (H.B. Warner) has been an unfaithful husband to his wife Lucilla (Alice Joyce), who has forgiven him but not forgotten. The pilot, Dr. Basil Traherne (Ralph Forbes) and Lucilla have been in love for years, but have done nothing about it because Lucilla is still technically married and wants to remain so because of her two children.

The Raja is technically and politically astute. He actually wants to kill his British prisoners as a kind of thumb in the collective eye to the British for keeping the Indians in subjection. However, he is also smart enough to know his "goose would be cooked" if the British ever knew what he did. He also doesn't really want his brothers released, because their deaths eliminate any possible wranglings over his throne should he die before his own children reach adulthood. Learning his lesson from British and Russian history, surviving uncles are not always so kind to the surviving underage progeny of deceased kings. We learn all of this from Arliss' own lips as he gives a superb performance every bit as good as the one he gave in Disraeli, just in a more inane plot.

The Raja does offer one concession, he will spare the life of Lucilla if she agrees to be his consort and bear him a son. He even agrees to smuggle her children out of India and bring them to her so she can raise them. As for the other two, they are pretty much condemned to die, but there is one hope for them all. There is a wireless device in the Raja's castle with which - if they can get access - they might be able to get a message to India. Also, the Raja has as his assistant a man of British birth named Watkins, a condemned criminal if he returns to his homeland, but inside Rukh he is the Raja's link to the culture and habits of the west and, more importantly, the Raja's wireless operator.

The kookiest part of this film - Nigel De Brulier as a wild looking bearded man who is always looking through keyholes and - for some reason - is given to carrying around a trident. I highly recommend this film to the fans of early talkies. This one will hold your interest.

A small plane is forced down somewhere near the Himalayas. On board are an English major, his young wife and their doctor friend. The plane lands in the tiny Princedom of Rukh, ostensibly under the British Viceroy, but actually ruled by a curiously deranged old Raja. The three visitors find themselves at the mercy of the Raja and are caught up in his lustful plots & plans.

This very early talkie is an interesting little curio and still fun to watch. George Arliss is a fascinatingly sardonic Raja. His every word & gesture entertain the imagination. Mr. Arliss was a very important & distinguished English actor working in Hollywood in the 1930's, although now he's sadly neglected. This was his first talkie - (but was released after DISRAELI). All of his Warner Brothers movies are very entertaining, if you can find them.

In the supporting cast are Ralph Forbes as the heroic doctor; H.B. Warner & Alice Joyce as the callous Major & his estranged wife; gaunt Nigel de Brulier as a suspicious temple priest; and Ivan Simpson as the Raja's wicked butler.

This film was hampered by the newness of the sound process--so please keep this in mind if you watch it. Early talkies tended to appear very claustrophobic--with all the action confined to small space on screen due to primitive recording equipment that could only pick up sound directly under the microphones. In addition, several innovations were still in the future--such as providing incidental music during the film. Believe it or not, to get music, an orchestra had to perform live just off camera! And, finally, some of these sound films did not feature integrated sound (by encoding it on the side of the film strip) but on a separate record--which caused MANY problems with perfect synchronization and the records wearing out after only a few performances. This Warner Brothers/Vitaphone release is one of these sound films employing a record. However, in an odd twist, years after the film was made the accompanying disk was transferred to film stock. To do so, the left edge of the film strip needed to have the sound encoding added--explaining why a bit of the left side of the print is clipped. So, when you see the film, bear all this in mind.

The film is set in a mythical kingdom along the border with India. A group of three travelers have trouble with their airplane and are forced to land. At first their reception by the local king (George Arliss) is very cordial. However, he and the travelers know the same secret--the Indian government has three of Arliss' countrymen and are planning on executing them. Now, with these three travelers in his control, Arliss can hold them hostage and possibly kill them in retribution. Naturally, the three want to escape or contact the British authorities in India about their plight.

"The Green Goddess" is divided into roughly two sections--the first one that consists of Arliss and the three acting cordial and then verbally sparring and the second involving their escape plans. The initial segment is very talky and static--the second very violent and more exciting (with a horrifying scene near the end). However, at no point in all this does any of this seem realistic in the least. Part of this is because the British Arliss is a bit silly as an Asian. The rest of this is that the script is very old fashioned and never the least bit believable. However, for fans of old-time cinema it's still worth seeing mostly because it's one of Arliss' surviving films and there just aren't that many opportunities to see this famous silent star--most of his films have simply become lost to the ravages of time. Not a great film but worth while if you are a true cinema freak.

Production values and keen intelligence were low in many pre-war British flicks, but come on! At the beginning a small plane crash lands, carrying a pilot and two passengers, one a woman. The two men stay in the plane for some time, anxious to make sure the woman is all right, though she has not been hurt at all, until finally one of the men remarks that they ought to get out, as the plane might catch fire! So they leave--and then what do they do? Stand next to the plane chatting for several minutes! You couldn't make it up.

It seems they have come down in a remote Himalayan kingdom, which one of them recalls having read about recently. So he walks away from the isolated temple and a few gaping villagers to get a newspaper! As if remote Himalayan kingdoms were routinely supplied with newsstands! And, sure enough, he comes back in a few minutes with what looks like a copy of the Times--unfortunately, two days old. Well, out in the back of beyond, what can you expect?

I was watching this movie for George Arliss, who plays the Rajah, but when he appeared, in jeweled brocade but otherwise his old self--no accent, no change of speech, no darkened skin--I gave up on the green goddess. I think she makes a better salad dressing than a movie.