Cast of Characters

"The Czarina" was not meant for Doris Keane, but because of artistry she surmounts a handicap before which many others would have fallen.

Her handicap lies in the lack of physical strength to "top" (to revert to the parlance of the theatre) the scene when the ruler in Catherine asserts itself. The masculine side of the great ruler of the Russians is not done convincingly by Miss Keane. It would seem more that the star were playing at being the Czar in these moments rather than presenting the true Catherine, whose real self is the masculine side of her character, whereas she but surrenders to the passions of the woman in her nature when she cares to lay aside the burdens of state.

It is here that the splendid direction of Mr. Miller asserts itself. His work is done so exceedingly well that this weakness, which might otherwise be magnified to such an extent as to mar, is so covered in the presentation of the play as a whole that it becomes subordinated in the engrossing interest of it all.

Melchior Lengyel and Lajos Biro, the authors, present a most interesting study of Catherine, and with it have constructed a play that never for a moment lacks interest. It is true that spots of the second act appear to be weak, but these only lead to great moments and must be forgiven. Catherine is ruling Russia with a stern hand which is tempered with justice and love for her people. She has but recently dismissed a lover when a young lieutenant, nephew of her very able chancellor, without whom Catherine would fall, arrives after a two-day ride to disclose to his Czarina a plot against her life.

She likes the strength and the youth of this loyal soldier, and rewards him not only with advancement in rant but with her favor; in other words, to quote the others of the palace, he becomes the "wife" of Catherine, there to please her when she desires to be pleased and to amuse when she would seek amusement. This is not to his liking. Conspirators in the palace play upon this and finally win him over to betray her, which betrayal is stopped by the ever-present foresight of the chancellor. She sentences the lover and the others to death. She would repent in her lover's case, but he prefers death. He leaves, and here the chancellor brings forth the next one, in the person of the youthful French ambassador. Catherine repeats herself, and the play ends with the Frenchman repeating the words she so loves to hear: "What a wonderful, wonderful woman you are."

The cast. English is adequate. To Frederick Kerr as the chancellor must be accredited the outstanding characterization of the performance. Under an exterior that is very human Mr. Kerr gives us a gem-like portrait of the crafty statesman. Ian Keith as the French ambassador who waits so very long upon the wishes of the chancellor for the right moment to be presented to Catherine to take his place also gives an excellent performance. He is the polished lover, the Frenchman to his finger tips, creating just the contrast Mr. Miller must have desired against the roughness and strength of the soldier lover, so very admirably presented by Basil Rathbone.

Lois Meredith is delightful as the first lady in waiting to Catherine, the betrothed of the soldier, whom he casts aside in his infatuation for the Czarina, but whom he really loves because he is the master, and who are united because of the joy brought to Catherine in her new love for the Frenchman.

The play is told in three acts with but one set depicting the inner audience chamber of the imperial palace at St. Petersburg during the year 1765, and is beautifully mounted, while the costuming is such that one is deeply impressed.

Meakin.

—Variety, January 27, 1922

For the first time in nine years, Doris Keane showed herself in a new play. A star who recurs each nine years cannot well afford failures. Miss Keane need not worry over such things as failures—for at least nine years more. "The Czarina" is another million-dollar hit.

How such a play crept into this country without a hurrah and a buzzing of busy tongues is a mystery, if a chorus girl smuggles in a pair of near-gold buckles there is a front-page to-do; but in the bottom of somebody's traveling bag there came, customs free, into the port of New York a manuscript by Melchior Lengyel and Lajos Biro, staging the highlights of the career of Queen Catharine of Russia that was worth probably as much as the boat that brought it, and nobody even stopped yawning.

But it was different Tuesday night, when a typical Frohman-Keane-Empire audience of smart and sophisticated premiere-patrons rubbed their eyes and whacked their hands as there was unfolded before them a romantic comedy-melodrama that seems destined to become historic. It is referred to here as a melodrama only because it has royalty; it is very difficult to accept czarinas as outstanding elements of the calm, everyday drama.

But "The Czarina" is primarily a love-story that will sweep all the women who want to love like a czarina but don't dare, and all the men who would love czarinas but can't get 'em, off their feet for months.

The Frohmans present this notable triumph, and Gilbert Miller is credited as its producer. To Mr. Miller must go a laurel wreath for perfecting and realizing the most difficult of all things in these days of theatrical fads and arbitrary deadlines, a "costume play."

Very few in the audience, as tiptop as it was, had ever seen a czarina, and certainly none had ever seen that particular czarina. But the truth need not be comparative; one recognizes it and feels it—it is, or it isn't. This is. Not only did all the many-colored moods of the star reflect and register imperial highness, but the surroundings, the tone, the true quality of it all made royalty real and reality royal.

One magnificent setting stands through the play. It cannot be adequately portrayed in words. But the Frohman organization has entered into the spirit of artistry and understanding and majesty in key with the other units of this unique accomplishment. Warren Dahler designed the superb scene, and R. W. Bergmann painted it. A tesselated floor is built on the stage.

The first act, portraying the inner diplomacy of the classic court of Catharine, its follies, its caprices, its epochal importance, its passionate amours and its cruel intrigues, worked up to one of the most transcendent love scenes of all stage memory, with the czarina in the arms of the young soldier whom she is to demoralize and warp and finally execute. Miss Keane was regal, female and glorious. Some sixteen curtain calls paid for it. In the second act, revealing the process of showing a young and good-looking jackapanes [sic. probably Jackanapes?] what it means to love a czarina, Miss Keane had less high-strung moments until toward the end, when for a spell she thinks she, herself is to die; at this period she chose to employ poise rather than power. The effect was terrific, and the curtain, dropping on the arrest of the lover, was crashing.

The third act saw her further in that marvelously interwoven chameleon duality of monarch and woman. In a tragic scene she sentenced her paramour to die, then turned coquettishly to a French dandy and had him at her feet, kissing the hem of her robes, as the final curtain closed the first Broadway performance of a brilliant and important play.

In the support Frederick Kerr, as the chancellor, stood forth. His success was magnificent and will become famous; yet he was unctuous, repressed, never strident. Basil Rathbone as the lover gave a rather straightaway version, and Ian Keith, in the French ambassador, was delightful. Lois Meredith as a lady in waiting, was a charming surprise, returning to the speaking stage in full measure of mellowed yet youthful graces after a long absence in pictures and abroad.

This season has not brought an embarrassment of enthusiasm for entertainment, nor has most of the entertainment, lucklessly, deserved prodigal downpour of manna. But "The Czarina" in every particular redeems a great deal that  [illegible] ... diary of stage attempt and fruition. Miss Keane proclaims herself far from being a "one-part" artiste and stands proven a star of sterling iridescence. Edward Sheldon, the author of her "Romance," who adapted this play for her uses in English, is again shown a master.

Any critic who is so thoroughly infatuated with his power as to pick piffling flaws in the presentation should be ostracized. It is as nearly inspired as any human effort on a stage may well be.

Lait.

—Variety, February 3, 1922

Despite the environment of all the trappings and furnishings of a costume play, so often depressing, The Czarina, the first production to be made by Gilbert Miller, as general manager of Charles Frohman, Inc., is really an immensely interesting entertainment, made so, in the main, by the sterling performance given by Doris Keane in the title role. Miss Keane is a genuine artist, ranking with the best, and her previous long appearance in Romance, in which she played for around nine years, has not at all stilted her art.

Mr. Miller, who produced the play, has indeed accomplished a notable triumph. The Czarina is staged most beautifully, and the casting has been done most judiciously.

This new play concerns itself with an episode in the life and love of Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia in the year 1705. Many accounts of the Empress Catherine have been handed down by historians, most of them picturing her as a bold, strong-willed, passionate woman, whose main interest in life was to satisfy her desire to be loved, most of the satisfiers being picked from the ranks of the army. This play, however, shows the Czarina in more favorable light, although it does not attempt to challenge the general impression of her virtue, or rather lack of it.

The play opens with a scene in the ante-chamber of the Czarina where her Chancellor, played by Frederick Kerr, and the newly arrived Ambassador from France are awaiting her to discuss matters of State. From the conversation carried on by various ladles-in-waiting, it is apparent that the Queen has arisen from her imperial couch with a grouch on; she needs a new lover who will measure up to her standards.

Upon this scene, uninteresting and meaningless, comes the Great Catherine, in the person of the handsome and gifted Miss Keane. From the moment of her entrance, the play picks up brightness and swiftness and becomes worth while.

To the Empress comes a young Count, one of Her Majesty's lieutenants, to warn her that a number of her advisors are planning a conspiracy against her. The Empress is interested. She is more than merely interested, she falls in love with the dapper lieutenant. On the spot, she makes him a Major, and banishes the assembled court, Chancellor, French Ambassador and all, in order to be alone with him. The Empress, be it understood, required only that her lovers charm her, she did not expect, nor wish them to be clever enough to aid her management of the affairs of state. So when, later, the emboldened lover wants to take one of the reins of the government into his hand (the free one), she objects.

The official lover to the Empress then gets up on his high horse, with the result that he gets himself in a jam with his royal mistress and is clapped into the imperial hoosegow. All this while the French Ambassador has been forced to wait on the chance of Her Majesty remembering him and granting him an audience. But finally, her ardor for the Count a trifle cooled, she sees him, falls in love with him, and starts a new chapter.

Ian Keith, as the French Ambassador, played his part with the required reserve. Lois Meredith, as the maid to the Czarina, who loves the young Count, gave a finished performance as did W. H. Thompson in the role of a treacherous general and Basil Rathbone as the Queen's lover.

—The New York Clipper, February 8, 1922