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 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.

I was nine years old when I saw this movie. I have re-read your synopsis and it validates every item in my memory. I characterized George Arliss in this role as the 'poobah' of his kingdom.

When the British warships' longboats pull away toward their ship, George is on a promontory overlooking the scene. He had just unsuccessfully bargained for keeping the girl and giving the pilot and the Dr. back to the Brits.

With a final sigh, I recall the movie's closing line as he states, "Well, she probably would have been a lot of trouble anyway."

Even a nine year old could appreciate that line and the resignation with which he delivered it. That line has been a friend for my entire life and I am now about to be 89. I learned from your summary that George died on Feb. 5, my birthday. I also learned to appreciate British character actors.

If one's movie life started in 'talkies' with Al Jolson (Sonny Boy), George Arliss, Charlie Chaplin (silent), or even Douglas Fairbanks, it is very difficult to get interested in contemporary films.

George Arliss's Victorian melodramatic style of acting might put some off today. Still playing The Rajah Of Rukh in one of his stage triumphs, Arliss is still fascinating to watch. Especially as he entertains three unexpected European visitors with malice in his heart.

It turns out three of his half brothers got caught in revolutionary activity against the British Raj and the more violent kind than what Gandhi advocated. Arliss takes it as a sign from his Hindu gods that Ralph Forbes, Alicia Joyce and H.B. Warner have to crash land in his remote part of India, near the Nepal border. At first he's a gracious host, but then he springs it on them that they're hostages.

Ivan Simpson plays Arliss's English butler. It amuses him to have one and Simpson is in no position to complain since he's a wanted man. He's a sniveling and sneaky sort and not one to be answering a call for help with king and country platitudes. Simpson was the only other one besides Arliss to appear on Broadway with him and in a 1924 silent version of The Green Goddess.

When this film came out the British public was debating the issue of giving up India. Almost singlehandedly Winston Churchill then a member of the Tory shadow government and the Beaverbrook press prevented independence from being granted sooner, not exactly Winnie's finest hour.

Arliss was competing against himself at the Academy Awards as he lost to his own performance as Disraeli in Disraeli, another of his stage triumphs.

Old fashioned that he is, George Arliss is still fascinating in The Green Goddess as the Rajah of Rukh.