THE THEATRE.

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1645, 11 January 1913, Page 9

THE THEATRE.

(Br SlLVIBB.) Tha World's a theatre; tho EaTth a stage.—Heywood. A Now Hamlet—And Others. "What (exclaims tho 'dramatic critic of the "Manchester Guardian" in bis brilliant commentary upon Mr. Laurence Irving's "Hamlet" at Manchester not long ago) 'nro Wo to think of this new Hamlet—curious, sinister, faulty, rare; of a presentation of tho play in which tho soliloquy 'To he or not to be' and tho 'Get-thue-to-a-nunnery', scene precede tl\e speech '0, what a rogue,' etc., which in turn actually comes before the advice to tho players? Well, it would really seem that when a first-class dramatist has firstclass stuff to say it matters very little in what order ho says it, and' certainly no violence was douo last night to the coherence of the play. What does matter, since it must have a very intimate and impartial bearing upon the actor, is the restoration of the feverish incidents that follow Hamlefs departure from his mother's apartment dragging the body of Polonius. These never-acted scenes are the very ecstasy of night-mare, a,projection of tho horrid phantoms holding their traffic in- Hamlet s brain. Perhaps in this picture of over-wrought nerves Shakespeare did actually achieve the writing for all time with which he is so handsonloly and so carelessly credited. What shocks may we not administer in saying that in these scenes Shakespeare, does actually bridge over the little fraction of all time that separates'our century from his! Hamlet's mad tricks with the body of Polonius, his petulont hiding of it, the courtiers' nagging quest of it, seemed to us last night to come very close to, say, 'Sumurun,' with Eosencrantz and Guildehstern for hideous clown and loon. That macabre conversation begming 'A"; certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him' might be Poe, or Villiers de' I'lsle Adam, or any of the Frenchmen; the mania for an exact apportioning of the blame between 'Bestial oblivion Of some craven scruplo of;tlnnk- , ing too precisely' on the event' is sheer Baudelaire in its sickness. Irving's Sinister Art. "One realised that Mr. Laurence Irving, with his strangely sinister art, could best afford of all our modern actors tho restoration of these scenes. Mr. Forbes-Eobert-son's exquisite sentimentalist, fiddling har-. monies on the' strings of a world's sensualism, that paragon of tenderness to be worn,in i.ur heart's core, 'ay,- in our heart of hearts,' -is not all Hamlot. Mr. Benson's gnarled, tortured, twisted figure,of the Dane, sheer botching 'prentice-work as a credible imitation of humanity;. yet inspiring as a gargoyle, is nearer ' the proper daemonic fury. But that is not all Hamlet. The actor who shall give ' us last nighfs restored scenes must come to grips with intellectual.danger, tho insistent toying with an idea of wantonness, the artist's loving elaboration of that frailty.which, once played with and 'placed' in his imagination, he is most urgent'to condemn. Hamlet has the courage of the perilous stuff of which; the bravo thinker, for sheer interest's sake, would not wish his bosom too well cleansed. The-sinister itch, tho spleen that finds its images in a sun breeding maggots in a dead dog, and its most exquisite sensation in the doom of all living flesh— 'and now my Lady Worm's'—this irlstinct for rottenness and death-'your-worm is your only'emperor for.'diet'—is as much a part : of' Hamlet, whether wo like it or not, as the most urbane of his philosophy, the most flower-like of his chivalry, the last' of ihis tenderness. .These extreme reconciliations are tho difficulty or Hamlet. The actor may-well cry out with Macbeth, 'Who can be wise, amazed, temperate, and furious'-vital and/decadent, he might add; and to 'place':a Hamlet is almost inevitably to determine tho measured the compromise.' ■ . . . , ' .

"A Great and Finely Imaginative *Ham- ; .' let '"' "..-'■' ■( " "Mr. Irving's compromise takes tho form ; of a wholesale discarding" of ?all the ten-. - 1 derness and grace that "is the foundation < of the ".'sweet 'prince" of Horatio sinipro- i vise<l epitaph and of all our imaginations. ■ Superficially this would seem to be an intolerable .'Hamlet. Mr. Irving lias - no < poetry, his soliloquies breathe scant philosophy, his passion for Ophelia is per- ' functory, his upbraiding, of - tho > Queen mere blackguarding, a simple outrage. I he actor has little pathos; not once did he move us in any purely human way. Tho voice is apparently beyond control,, gusts of sound blow out the phrases like bellying sails,, piping treble and bass alternate and sing out together without discoverable difference in' meaning;-wrong' stresses are thick as leaves in Vallombrosa. Mr. Irv- . ing'will say 'and by a sleep, tow we end' and come entirely to a full stop. Then, after a long pause, we get the disjointed and now meaningless 'The heartache and the thousand >■ natural shocks That flesh is heir to.'- This is only one of a score of instances. , And yet—and yet we think this is a great and finely imaginative Hamlet., These enormous faults be- . come twisted and tortured into a, kind of quality. For this Hamlet is an'overgrown child, a cuffed and cowed schoolboy, misunderstood by his play-fellow, the world; ho is in animal, inarticulate suffering, a oub if you like, coltish certainly. He does not grow up, he goes over to some- sickly creature of Huysmans, Poe, or Baudelaire, without passing through manhood. His , voice, w© want to say, has the break of immaturity. We are conscious, here, that this praise of an actor's defects isnot fair criticism, however the defects may fit with our better i-ppreeiation. No lucky correspondence with a spectator's mood can •justify such diction as Mr. Irvings. Rather must we find justification for this fine Hamlet in its blaze of 'romantic energy, its white-heat of conception, its terror, dignity, austerity. Wo had the old fascination of watching a towering.yitellect play with little minds like cat with mouse; there'was the romantic figure and rich expressive gesture; there was the sense of haunting power and the unreasoning feeling that, inevitably allits faults; this was a fine thing. .'■■!'■ ■ '■-— T-V . - ■' 'I j - The Bantocks. At Christmas Mr. Claude Bantock celebrated his eleventh year with J. C. Williamson's Royal Comic ©pera Co. "It is the record continuous engagement for an English artist in Australia, he told the "Sun." "Lauri was with the firm off and on for about fourteen years, but there was a break of a year." ; ." The jovial comedian was -preceded in Australia by his two brothers, Granville and Leedham Bantock. These with the second Gaiety Company—that company whoso principals included Charlie Riley, Harry Monkhurst, Louis Bradfield?'Freddy Kay, Decima Moore, ( Maud Hobson,-and Grace Palotta. , -.-', Granville Bantock was tho conductor. He has gone a long way since, and is now probably the most distinguished living English musician. His "Omar Khayyam has been a groat success. . ; ; Leedham-Bantock combined with the profession of comedian the work of librettist f'The Belle of Brittany" was written by him. He has given this up, and become a cinema producer, and is now with Charles Urban. A post-card in the Inst mail to Claude Bantock showed him in a sleigh in Lapland, whither ho hud cone to produce a Santa-Clans film, himself appearing as the old gift-bringer. who comes down the chimney about midnig'it on Christians Eve. . , ■ .-■ From Lapland he was, going to funis to produce another film, this tune _ an. Arab drama, the scenario of which he had written. ■ -, Notes. Alice Ttusson, principal girl of the "Puss .'in Boots" pantomime, at Her Majesty s Melbourne, stopped into Edna May s shoes when tho. latter left the cast of Tho Catch of the Season." She also was understudy to Phyllis Dare, nnd played her part in "The Belle of Mnyfair." She has played for a considerable time in musical comedv, but has also mode frequent appearances in comedy, on one occasion playing principal part in "Mr. George, supporting Mr. Charles Hawkey. Frank Dix, the producer of "Puss in Boots" at Her Majesty's. Melbourne, nnd part writer of the libretto, has written ninnv dramas and mclodrnmaS, some of which ore still running in England. Ono of tho most successful bears the graphic title of "The Girl from tho' Jam Factory."- ■..'..' . Oscar Asche tells a good story, of a rehearsal incident over which ho has not finished chuckling yet* It was in. tho

forum scene of "Julius Caesar," and the crowd of supers, were being prepared. They did not appear impressed, however, by Antony's oration, and the lack of animation sent tho producer into fits >;f agony. "Hero is tho will," said Marcus Antonius, "and under Caesar's seal, to every Eoman citizen he gives, to every several man, seventy-fivo drachmas.' "Good Lord!" cried the 6tngo manager to the populace, "you might bo so many graven images. Can't you see what it meansP You are liomau citizens, and Caesar has left each of you seventy-five drachmas!" The super.' looked at the stage manager through a bleary eye, and said: "I don't know anything about that. The arrangement you made with us was eighteenpence a night."

A London correspondent mentions that what must be regarded as one of the most interesting gatherings of recent years took place at the Hotel Cecil, when more than 500 members of the Old Playgoers' Club "arid their professional guests met at dinner to celebrate the success of that remarkable play, "Milestones," which' is at present running in Sydney with enormous 'success. In this delightful piece'is represented in the tliTeo acts the costumes and manners of the periods of 1860, 1885, and 1912. The promoters hit upon a happy idea when they invited famous players of those periods to respond to tho toasts of their time, and with really striking, success the pretty plan was carried out in deeply interesting speeches by Genevieve Ward, Miss "Leal" Batcman, nandez, Sir Squiro and Lady .Bancroft (once famous as Marie "Wilton), for IBGOj by H. B." Irving for 1885; and" by Dennis Eadie, who jointly manages, find plays in "Milestones/' for 1912. The feast of interesting memories will long be cherished by those who had tho privilege to bo present. ■ • ■ '