George Arliss Is Coming In “The Kings Vacation”

Manawatu Times, Volume LIV, Issue 7278, 4 October 1933, Page 5

George Arliss Is Coming In “The Kings Vacation”

A GREAT ACTOR IS SEEN IN FEATURE AS FANS LIKE HIM

In order that a bloody revolution might be averted and that the oppressive rule of a class-seffish aristocracy and of self-seeking politicians might be ended, a king who realised that he was a mere puppet that answered to the string-pulling of “advisers” abdicated at an opportune time and after thorough consideration of his country’s affairs and his own.

A new government was formed and the cx-King, full of joy at the new prospect before him, retired into private life, as is shown in “The King’s Vacation,” which will commence at the Regent on Friday. Only one actor in all Jilmdom could play as near to perfection as could be desired the part of the man who, in answer to a. call, left a happy, obscure environment to ascend a throne to be the figurehead of a nation for IS years, and then to descend with honour amid the plaudits of tho people, and he is George Arliss. In tho role of Philip who suffered disillusionment on the throne, sacrificed a contented life (for his marriage with a commoner had to bo dissolved to enable him to contract a royal union), staunchly sympathised with the people, and who on his retirement suffered a further disillusionment but finally found a thoroughly well-deserved happiness, Arliss enacts a part splendidly suited to his talent and plays it in his very best manner. Supported by ]Mrs Arliss as his royal consort, by Marjorie Gateson as his first wife, Patricia Ellis as their daughter, Dudley Diggcs as the lord chamberlain, and by many others of ability, the star is enabled to make a great success of a picture the story of which should appeal to everyone. Arliss is a king, undoubtedly, and doesn’t like it a little bit; his heart is with his people —although ho has to be an unwilling target for a revolutionary’s pistol —and the constant bowing and scraping, State receptions, and jangle of cymbal-sounding satellites irk immeasurably. Eternally - coiling himself in gold braid and being uncoiled by obsequious valets, when all lie wants is to tinker in his old workshop that gave him happy hours before Providence and assassinations gave him the throne, lie has a queen, but has lost his wife and daughter IS years back because the same footling formality decreed that he should be linked with one of royal blood. Ho was the tool of Royalists, and was forced to sanction measures that trampled tho working class, and with it his own heart. An end to all this, says King, and back to my wife and cottage. Millicent will be grown up now; I won’t know her. Abdication indicated. A graceful gesture ou the part of his kindly queen, and lie is free to remarry his wife. Sounds peculiar, but there it was. His heart is with his wife, says the queen, and hadn’t he known of the “Mr X” for whom she yearns?

Back to the little rose garden, and old tool-shed —Mb thoughts fondle the idea—but what a change when he arrives! Lackeys —I thought I’d got rid of all this—spring to attention, open car doors; footmen bow him into . . .

Into what? An auctioned castle that his wife had bought to pander her social aspirations! He has to be a king and meet Lady This and Lady That, go here and go there, and altogether have all the case and homeliness he has imagined. Helen, bis wife, has changed —a rather unpalatable specimen of the social ‘liitch-my-wagon to a star’ type. Happy chance, though, and who should he meet but his queen, in just the homely surroundings he has wanted. Beunion. Finis.