AUDIENCES AND THE ACTOR

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 176, 15 October 1927, Page 24 (Supplement)

AUDIENCES AND THE ACTOR

COMPLETE METAMORPHOSIS INFLUENCE OF THE FILMS Written for THE BUN by Allan Wilkie. In perusing the biographies and memoirs of famous aetor3 of the past (and I confess there is no other form of light literature from which I derive so much interest and enjoyment), one is struck by the fact that the stage, both in its general conditions and in the characteristics and conventions of the actor, has undergone a complete metamorphosis. It is indeed doubtful whether any other profession can show such revolutionary changes as have taken place in regard to the theatre during, say, the past half-century. That period has marked the break up of the old stock companies and its replacement by the touring system. The lighting and staging of all plays have made enormous strides, resulting in a subtle but very definite change of technique in the art of acting. The actor him self, who lived in a world apart and always carried the atmosphere of the theatre with him in his private life, has, at the sacrifice of much of his individuality and personal magnetism, become an ultra respectable member of society, while one needs only to read the comedies of Robertson or the dramas of Boucicault and compare them with those of Shaw and Galsworthy to realise the vast difference in the craft of the playwright and incidentally in the taste of the public. In visiting New Zealand after a lapse of five years what has impressed itself upon me most forcibly is the enormous change in the attitude of the audience. Just as it is difficult to appreciate the fact that the people whom we are constantly meeting are both altering and ageing in face and figure, and only after a separation for a lengthy period do we appreciate the ravages of inexorable time, so in touring the same Australian cities year after year 1 had failed to grasp fully the creeping paralysis, if the expression may be permitted, which is stealthily but persistently overtaking the theatre-going public. Now after visiting the centres of the Dominion after a considerable interval, one is able to adjust one’s perspective. * Reading the reminiscences of both playgoers and actors of the past and other books and periodicals dealing with the theatre, I have enviously reflected on the enormous enthusiasm which the actors were wont to evoke from the public, the higher critical standards of the old-time audiences and the genuine interest in all that

appertained to the theatre. By "genuine interest’’ I mean an interest in the art of the player, not a hysterical craving for petty details of his private life and tastes. Had that enthusiasm and interest been entirely confined to the giants of the stage, it would have been easy to attribute the falling off on the part of the public solely to the decline in the standard of acting, but apparently it embraced the mediocre as well as the more distinguished artists. The reason I conceive to he somewhat more complicated as it. includes many factors. Firstly, we are satiated with amusements of all kinds. Musical comedy and reviews, vaudeville entertainment, moving pictures, jazzing, motoring, horseracing, gambling, gladiatorial sport, etc., have all jaded our palates and impaired our appetites. Secondly, we do not take life so seriously and are Incapable of the same degree of enthusiasm (always differentiate enthusiasm from hysteria), as our forefathers. We are inclined all too often to deride the idealist and to tolerate with a shrug of the shoulders, not untinged with admiration, the man convicted of sharp practice or worse. As witness to the latter, the majority of American crook dramas and moving pictures (the popularity of which is not confined to their own country) jave a blackmailer their own country a blackmailer Lastly, the modern actor, seeking to gain an artificial fame gas cheapened

himself by his methods of publicity, lending his name and photograph to the advertisement of patent medicines and toilet accessories and retailing details of his habits and private (God save the mark) life to the Press to a degree which has forfeited the dignity of his profession and lowered the theatre in the respect and esteem of the public. All these and other causes have reacted upon the attitude and behaviour of the theatre audience. But as these factors have prevailed for a long period, they will not wholly account for the sharp decline which I notice after a few years’ absence from the Dominion. The standards of my productions, it is generally conceded, both in the personnel and staging, is considerably higher than ever before and this is borne out by the attendance which has been uniformly good throughout my tour. My explanation of that falling off, is that the minds of a large section of the public have become “picturised." The legitimate theatres being only open at intermittent periods, the public in their demand for constant entertainment resort in enormous numbers and with great frequency to the picture-shows, and carry to the theatre the habits and behaviour that that class of entertainment has evolvel. Hence the fact that they are rapidly losing the habit of applauding in the theatre, where, in five years, it has decreased at least by half. This is a great pity, for though there is a certain superior class of actor who will tell you that he does not like applause —that it is inartistic and distracts him in his work—it may be accepted as' an axiom that no actor can give his best work without it; it is not a question of satisfied vanity; it is a consciousness that his efforts are being appreciated that inspires him to greater efforts and increases his nervous excitability, spurring him on to greater heights of emotional expression. Any actor worth his salt will sympathise with the American tragedian. Edwin Forrest, who, playing to a particularly dead audience, broke off in the middle of a scene and plaintively addressed them with, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you don’t applaud, I can’t act.”

Another phase of this “picturisation” of the mind of the theatre audience is that the pictures leave nothing to the imagination and have to a great extent destroyed the appreciation of fine language. They demand action, action, action, all the time. They can look, but they are losing the capacity to listen, or at any rate to listen with intelligence and concentration. Also the pictures being deluged with false and slushy sentiment, to the picture mind real emotion paradoxically often strikes an unreal note and provokes a vacant giggle. Audible conversation among members of the audience to the distraction of those who wish to listen and also to the player, can readily be traced to the influence of the picture show, where such habits do not apparently interfere with the enjoyment of the entertainment; as can the custom of rising from their seats and making a mad rush for the exit doors immediately or prior to the fall of the curtain. The actor being subject to nightly and dailv criticism on the part of the public and Press, I hope these comments from the viewpoint of the actor on his audience will not be taken amiss. They are prompted only by a wholehearted love for the theatre and all that concerns it and let it be understood that indeed “our true intent is aU fpr y_©ur