ON BROAD LINES

Southland Times, Issue 20080, 18 January 1927, Page 6

ON BROAD LINES

“THE UNFAIR SEX” BRIGHT DOMESTIC FARCE ZILLAH BATEMAN SEASON OPENS It would be unfair to call “The Unfair Sex,” a sex comedy in spite of the fact that most humour on the stage in these days is sex of one and douGle meanings of the other. The object of the author of this farce seems to have been to show, with as much full throated laughter as possible, that while the chivalrous gentlemen of the Victorian . days in their quaint way may have called women the “fair” sex—this was not an attack on the brunettes—the modern view is that when it comes to matters involving the heart both sides of the house are equally unfair. Eric Hudson, the writer of this cheerful farce on the carelessness of married people in these days, has not troubled himself much about finesse, approaching his contract with straight leading and makinging his honours in their proper rotation. He sets his scenes in the open, withholding nothing from the audience, which is able to enjoy to the full the discomfiture of the unfortunates who are not in all the secrets. This, of course, involves a frank emphasis on the farcical side of a family misunderstanding in a household which in real life would have ■ been blown to

smithereens in a few seconds. After a course of modern novels most people are prepared to believe that happy endings occur only in the world of realities, an extraordinarily revolutionary view which is probably correct, but there can be no room for argument that only in the books and on the stage can dear old interfering people carry through conspiracies based on the assumption that men and women taxed with infidelity will not descend to details in wordy warfare for offence or defence and leave no loopholes for escape by means of inaccurate deductions. Hudson’s situation in the four walls of a modern mortgaged home would crash promptly, just as the mercenary maid, Pinker, would not have stopped at twenty pounds for her part in the deception when a prompt revelation of the scheming lawyer’s plan would have netted her further rewards, but when an audience enters a theatre it leaves its commonsense in the cloak-room with its hats and cloak so that it may indulge itself in unrestricted laughter. Hudson, knowing this, wrote “The Unfair Sex” confidently, and the results have justified him. Not for many years has a farce so riotously funny been seen in this country. Now and again it plunged gaily into sheer clowning, and towards the close it tottered perilously, like a runner almost spent, only the shrewd introduction of a golfing joke saving it from utter collapse. The basis of the' fun is very thin, but it is sufficient. A husband and wife innocently kiss other people of appropriate sexes on the same day just before lunch. A divorce court lawyer observes the wife’s osculation and accidently discovers the husband’s slip. His court experience having given him that perverted view of life which comes to most lawyers through their association with people who seek or try to dodge litigation, and their reading of legal authorities, he believes this quartet is headed for domestic mud-larking and when he is prevented from telling the parties apparently wronged he essays the dangerous task of teaching grown-ups a lesson. This he does by a magnificent array of lies which deceive everybody on the stage until just before the last scene. Then the whole affair is cleared up, the husband and wife fall into each other’s arms, and everybody but the maid and the* cab-driver is headed off marriage and the law’yer becomes a golf fiend. This is accomplished with an accompaniment of lines which even in the days immediately preceding the Kaiser’s march from Potsdam to a life with Hermione at Doorn would have produced hisses,, from the most unrighteous of the community and hoarse cries for the censor, but which now could not raise a blush to the cheek of a Bible-class leader, and the result is a night of shouted laughter and slapped

The company which presented this farce of Hudson's to a highly amused audience at the Municipal Theatre last night was emphatic in its methods for the most part. Miss Zillah Bateman, who wears some very attractive dresses and looks diverting in them, though inclined to be just too obvious in her acting, revelled in the role of Diana Trevor, the wife, whose innocent kiss, “to keep Harvey Fane straight,” caused the trouble. But in a

smaller role Miss Henrietta Cavendish clothed her lines with more subtle meanings, imprinting on the minds of her hearers far more than the author could put into his words. The elderly woman was a satisfying victory for the older generation. Miss Vera St. John, troubled at times with her aspirates, never got any deeper than the veneer of Joan Delisse, a flapper less real even than most of the characters seen in the movie plays. Miss Sylvia Clifton’s best moments were when she was giving a travesty of the motion picture actress’s methods. Mr Campbell Copelin, in flannels of Oxford bag proportions, survived those fashionable monstrosities and acquitted himself well as Geoffrey Trevor, and Mr Norman Carter as Harvey Fane was consistently good in the broad comedy of the modem variant of the “silly ass” introduced first by G. P. Huntley in the pre-Imperial Conference days. Mr Frank Bradley as Sir Henry Hesketh, the divorce court lawyer, was four-square to all criticism. His picture as Hesketh was excellently drawn, tipping the broad situations with just enough skill to reconcile the human substance of this legal luminary. Mr Bradley neither overstepped nor under-stated a scene and some of his colouring of the text was delightfully enriching. The farce went with a swing throughout and its success may be taken as a promise for the comedy to be presented to-night.