You Called, Mervyn?

It’s a television pairing that sounds improbable—singer and game show host Merv Griffin, and an actor who played condescending English butlers, Arthur Treacher.

But it worked.

Treacher was in his 70s when Griffin tabbed him to be an announcer. But not only did they survive together for several years and versions of The Merv Griffin Show, Treacher embarked on a second career as a canny businessman, first with a rent-a-servant operation and then lending his name to franchised fish-and-chip restaurants.

His first career apparently began at the Oxford Theatre in London in October 1919 when he appeared in a musical production of Maggie. In April 1926, he came to New York to appear in Shubert's latest Great Temptations revue with Jack Benny, Billy B. Van, Miller and Lyles and a young lady who later became known as Penny Singleton. Motion pictures followed, with television arriving afterward, including a guest appearance on the Tonight show with fill-in host Griffin. They connected again in 1965 when Westinghouse dumped Steve Allen to syndicate Merv.

Treacher had a wonderfully dry and sometimes withering wit that scored well with talk show audiences. Here’s a King Features story that appeared in papers on April 11, 1970.

Presence of Dour Arthur Treacher Enhances a Television Broadcast
By CHARLES WITBECK
HOLLYWOOD—What this country needs is more grumblers.
This comes from a dour old man, Arthur Treacher, Merv Griffin's associate, who makes a very comfortable living grousing. You'd think Treacher would want to keep quiet about his secret in an age where friendship, the big smile, the glad hand and assume interest are considered essential to getting ahead.
But Arthur isn't worried about competition. The man has sinecure with his boss who only asks, "When will you have had enough?"
"When I feel badly," answers Arthur. Going on 76, he knows full well the beauties of his position. No other job could come close in matching benefits. Treacher leaves his house at three in the afternoon, and returns at 8:45 in the evening having performed, and taken time for drink and probably an excellent dinner at Sardi's, or some other good restaurant, where he reacts kindly to acclaim and familiarity from guests and waiters.
He represents the grand old man accustomed to receiving tribute and respect from associates, and he doesn't have to do a blasted thing in return, except peal off a few anecdotes about Hollywood days, or put on a look of disgust for the television camera when the guest becomes a bore. The man doesn't even to think to live this way.
Treacher really cinched this dream job by submitting to 85 minutes of silence on an old Griffin show, listening to guests prattle on, before he broke in with "I think you're all idiots.
"Is that all you did?" questioned Griffin, trying tp recall how the show went off.
"That's enough," Treacher replied, and his boss agreed.
Naturally, any employer with this kind of forebearance deserves recognition. Arthur puts Merv at the top of the list with this example of the understanding leader. He was grumbling a bit before the show one afternoon within earshot of the host, who touched Treacher on the arm and said, "You seem to be in bad temper. Go get yourself a drink before we begin."
Mr. Treacher's temper is decidedly on the bilious side these days because of a hepatitis bout, which means laying off the alcohol, a condition foreign to the man. "I have always been a credit to the distillery people," he said, anxious not to ruin his image.
Perhaps a liking for drink and bad temper go hand in hand. The perfect example is W. C. Fields, a man lionized by the young, a type needed desperately for their lack of humanity to the kiddies. Treacher isn't quite sure whether he agrees with this line of reasoning, but he knows grumbling is welcomed by youth. With Arthur this attitude came more or less by accident.
In his Hollywood days, Treacher was typecast as the English butler, competing for parts with Eric Blore. The two finally met in an M. G. M. picture in which they were rude to each in church, and Treacher admits he was far nicer than Blore, who "grumbled beautifully" even off the screen, but he picked up, Eric's trade secret.
Treacher doesn't expose his true nature on the air. Most of the act is a put-on, since it would take effort to use true feelings which are kept hidden. The actor claims he has a black heart, and says he's sick to death of “everyone sitting around on their hind ends talking about pollution, and not doing anything about it. If you're going to beef, action must follow, an English tradition.”
Naturally, at his age, grousing without backing it up, is accepted. The trick is to do it with humor, and not become a bore. Wit is essential, a good memory necessary, plus an ear for the latest anecdote. Treacher keeps in touch through cab drivers, newsboys, waiters and doormen.
“I never send food back,” he reposts, "nor am I ever rude to waiters, doormen or taxi, drivers. I even let some call me Artie, which like Perc, is an abomination."
For his pleasure, Mr. Treacher merely reads and frequents Aqueduct race track, an 18-minute ride from home. As for television, he never looks at the set. "It's too exciting," he says, deadpan.

CBS didn’t want Treacher on the show to begin with, Griffin once wrote, claiming the network’s research said he would only attract an older audience. The ratings showed otherwise. CBS then tried to use Griffin’s move from New York to California in September 1970 to get rid of the esteemed gent. But Treacher saved them the trouble, telling Griffin he did not wish to go back to the West Coast.

Here’s a story from the Rome Daily Sentinel of July 23, 1974 where Treacher shrewdly gets almost a quarter page of free publicity for his business.

'Naughty' Arthur Treacher denies fame, admits greed
By JEFF COPLON
At 80, Arthur Treacher is the perfect jocular old Englishman, complete with red lace, jutting chin and a presence at once commanding and gentle —Winston Churchill with a wink.
Treacher walks a little stiffly these days, his face is jowled, his pants rise high over a comfortable paunch. But he is nonetheless a rare octogenarian who has been more mellowed rather than declined with the passing years; the brain is still alert, and the delivery and timing are faultless, like that of a lead actor in a long-running hit play.
Now the king of a tartar sauce empire known as Arthur Treacher's “Fish ‘N Chips”. Treacher has spent the last two days in the area promoting local franchises.
There are now nearly 300 "Fish ‘N Chips,'' and in two years, according to Treacher, there will be 1,000. Their namesake spends a fair amount of time on the road.
Treacher will be at the Rome "Fish N Chips" franchise at 6 p.m. today.
While insisting that he's "not a traveling salesman," Treacher spends a fair amount of time on the road promoting the nearly 300 “Fish 'N Chips” throughout the country. He said he genuinely likes the product's he's hawking— "thank God, it would be awful if I didn't" — and even goes so far as to rate it higher and less greasy than the British original.
Treacher is bemused but hardly defensive about this latest twist to a career which has ranged over two continents and a half-century in on stage, screen, radio and television, most recently as the naughty but lovable sidekick to popular talk show host Merv Griffin.
"I don't think I've brought anything to the culture of the world." he said "When I did movies, I always looked at how much I got from them. My favorite film picture was the one I got paid the most for."
He is equally unimpressed with his growing fame: "People say I'm famous, but then so was Capone. I don't want any of this."
Treacher worked in his last play, “Camelot,” eight years ago, and he cannot conceive of doing another one.
"Theatre, the thought of going out every night and performing the same lines, bores me stiff. And it's not the same any more We used to have more fun in the early days, we'd go to a restaurant after the show and people from other plays would come and we'd kid each other.
"But after Camelot, everyone went their separate ways after the performance, there was no camaraderie."
Treacher also laments the disappearance of "the great, great stars, where the people went to see the star and didn't care what the play was.
"There were magnetic people like Al Jolson. It was just a joy to be with him near the end of the show, he'd get sick of the play sometimes and asked the audience if they wanted to know what happened at the end.
"Then he'd tell them, and he would sing and dance for them for an hour or more He was a man's man."
Treacher lists his favorite leading ladies as Joan Crawford, Ethel Merman, Ethel Barrymore and Shirley Temple, with whom he made six films, either as "a butler or a broken-down vaudeville man."
His own career began with a role as chorus boy in a 1919 London production. "I had always wanted to be an actor when I was a boy." he said. "My parents would take me to the theatre and the circus and I took to it right off."
In 1926, Treacher came to New York, and he's lived in the area ever since. He has returned to England for a few visits, but says he doesn't really miss it.
"When you get to be 80," he said, "most of your friends are dead. And England has altered a great deal physically. The houses in my mother's village have all been made over into apartments and condominiums. "
Treacher conceded, a bit coyly, that his image as a dignified and occasionally inebriated rake on the Griffin show was "all true — I went to Sardi's often to have a few drinks before doing the show." But was he ever actually . . .
"Sloshed? Oh yes, not enough to upset my brain, but my eyes were sometimes quite bloodshot. One time I told Griffin: ‘To be on your bloody show, you've got to be drunk.’"
More seriously, Treacher said he had a great affection for Griffin, and that "his was the only show I would ever go on." In between his bouts of promotional work, Treacher pursues his hobbies of French cooking and reading in his country home in Douglastown, Long Island.

Griffin carried on talking without Treacher until the mid-'80s; he ended up extremely wealthy due to smart business deals in real estate and television. He always talked warmly of his association with the former film and stage star, even after Treacher died in December 1975.