STAGELAND

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 940, 5 April 1930, Page 29

STAGELAND

FIXTURES HIS MAJESTY'S THEATRE j; pW Playing. —“Mercenary Mary,” Freddie Forbes Musical Comedy ComPa^eming- —Leon Gordon : “Murder on the Second Floor.” and other plays. Clem Da we i “Love Lies. .ST. JAMES THEATRE Xow Playing. —Talking pictures. THEATRE INDEFINITE ylay 17-24- —“All Quiet on the Waterfront.’’ Auckland University Students. CONCERT CHAMBER Vow Playing.—“ The Man They Buried.” Little Theatre Society. April S.—Alexander Watson recitals. May y. 10. —“The New Morality,” funds for Obstetric Appeal. Louise Hepner was the original •Belle of New York” in Australia. Marie Bremner is the 18th professional Violet Grey, not to speak of the amateurs. Dennis Barry is touring England with Sir Frank Benson’s Shakespearian company. After leaving the Ulan Wilkie Company he gave a series of recitals in Auckland before sailing for England.. * * * “R.U.K.” provided the Melbourne Repertory Theatre Players with the best box office receipts they have ever obtained in a five nights’ season when it was produced there recently. "A Night Like This” is the title chosen for Ben Travers’s new farce, which has opened at the Aldwych Theatre London. Tom Walls, Ralph Lynn and all the other familiar actors in the Aldwych company are in the new play. Among the new J. C. Williamson offerings which may come to New Zealand during the year»are the sensational dramas “Persons Unknown” and “Murder on the Second Floor” i Leon Gordon and Company). “Coquette” and “The Constant Nymph" are two other interesting productions promised, in musical comedy there will be “The New Moon,” •Follow Through,” and Eric Edgley, Clem Dawe and Dick White’s “Love Lies. 1 '

“Love Lies.” which is to be the first production of the new theatrical man- ! ageraent of White and Edgley, was j first staked at the Gaie.ty Theatre, ! London, last January, and has com- j pleted its first year. “Love Lies” and j “Mr. Cinders” are the two outstanding i musical successes of the London | stage at present. Interest in the new production is added to by the first appearance of several artists from Lonaon, who will include Rita McLean. Peter Lane, Betty Eley and Bobby Gordon.

In the February number of the “London Dancing Times” is a fullpage photo of Jocelyn Yeo, the young Auckland danseuse, who at present is solo danseuse with the Hotel Splendide Cabaret (O. B. Cochrane’s show). She was offered the position of solo danseuse again with the Lyceum pantomime, London, but the cabaret offer held more inducements. This cabaret is one of the world’s leading entertainments. Jocelyn Yeo will be remembered as Jocelyn Dixon, a former pupil of Miss Cecil Hall.

There is much talk in theatrical circles In London about a play which has just been produced in Paris—“ The Man I Killed” ("L’Homme Que J'ai Tue”). It is said to be the French equivalent of “Journey’s End.” The central character, a French soldier, killed a young German in cold blood during the war —deliberately murdered him. This preys oh his mind and after the war is over he goes to Germany, seeks out his victim’s father and mother and sweetheart, and. after almost confessing his guilt, offers himself in place of the dead hoy. It is said that Maurice 'Evans (Raleigh of “Journey's End”) may be offered the leading part in it.

FEAT OF MEMORY “The Everlasting Mercy” Took a Year to Learn Alexander watson’s tour An outstanding feature of Mr. •G'Xander Watson’s programmes on mis tour will be the revival of John •issefield’s remarkable poem, “The everlasting Mercy.” ’t took Mr. Watson practically 12 Oonths to memorise it, and he after"urd arranged with John Masefield m produce it publicly. Air. Watsontells how Masefield’s remarkable work *as first received in London: 1 took the Little Theatre in Louden, and a large audience attended, ‘uere is no doubt that a great many People were startled and were shocked, the realism and the violent langu--5* °f the poem, and yet to my mind mere is nothing shocking in it ex'ept that it is true to life, and such a form of life does exist. The impression in Loudon was immediate nnd widespread. People of all sorts nnd all classes came and thanked me. ™®e, as I say, deprecated it as too trong t 0 tj 6 done in public, hut the Peculiar thing was that large numbers 1 the most favourable expressions a ® e from women. One cultured and well-known "°®an in the West End went so far s to engage me to recite it at her °use, where a stage was fitted up an< * au audience of some lot) * ! nte-shirt ed and bare-shouldered fbests listened to it. In the next ee * the same woman engaged me to “Peat it in her country town. I gave ‘ at many of the principal lite(,ary dubs and societies through ’ r eat Britain. It is my belief that -IXsefield had a high purpose in view ' Ue » he wrote ’The Everlasting flerey,’ and that he lias accomplished •n a most remarkable and courageous manner.” . ■' ,r - Watson's Auckland season will open on April s.

ay COTHURNUS. “NEW MORALITY” Play to Raise Funds for Obstetric Appeal “The New Morality,” Harold Chapin’s comedy which is to be pre-

I sented at the Concert Chamber next ! month in aid of funds for the obstetric ' appeal, is a delightful work. It will be played by the following cast: Betty Mona Walbank Alice* Enid Hosking The Maid Audrey Perry Colonel Jones E. Churcliouse Teddv Wister Bees Ballot Bela sis P. E. McCallum Wootton Alan McElwain Mrs. Bartley Baxter will produce and Sister Hovey will be stage manager. Stage Types Never Change Chinese and Frenchmen Always the Same LONDON CRITIC’S PROTEST Oh, these stage types! ! “Sapper’s” new play, “The Way | Out,” has set me thinking of them once more, for here we meet a number of old friends, writes Alan Parsons in London “Daily Mail.” First and foremost there is the stage Chinaman.

There are two varieties, both of which appear in this play. There is the “sinister” type: he is dressed in European clothes, is garrulous in impeccable English, and plots unspeakable villainies against the strong, silent hero.

The other type wears Chinese clothes, shuffles about the stage with his hands up his sleeves, and squeaks things like “Me no sabee piecee levolvel” to indicate that he -—a seen no revolver (which he invariably has). Can one be surjfrised that the Chinese authorities are occasionally moved to protest? I had one Chinese friend: it was at Oxford, and one always understood that he was of the highest possible rank: anyhow the scouts always called him Prince Chu. He was far from sinister —a charming little gentleman with a passion for roulette, at which he always lost sc\ heavily that, in true Oxfo-E fashion, his fellow-gamblers had to sit up all night so that he could recoup his losses.

In “The Way Out” there is another typical figure, a British Colonial governor of such pig-headed obtuseness that the audience began to giggle. Such caricatures are a sad libel on a class of man admired and revered the length and breadth of the Empire. The stage Frenchman invariably j wears a fan-shaped beard and kisses J everyone indiscriminately on both t cheeks. One can call to mind dozens j of other types: landladies, policemen,! butlers, peers, clergymen, detectives, and so on, these are such hardy annuals that nothing will ever alter them, but I shall continue to protest, hopeless though it he, against two of these types which never fail to vex me past endurance. The first is the stage rustic, complete with smock and gnarled staff (how many smocked rustics has one ever really encountered?), who wheezes in a high falsetto voice in a dialect that belongs to nowhere, ex- J cept stage convention. | The other is the stage journalist. . . | but if even Mr. Bernard Shaw pres- j ents him, as he does in “The Doctor’s I Dilemma,” with that ridiculous, poised | notebook which is the hallmark of the | journalist on the stage but nowhere else in the world, of what use is it to ! pro-test ? Yet, I do protest, even once again. . . ;

LONDON PLAYS Gaiety Theatre Scores with Musical Comedy OUTSTANDING PRODUCTIONS The Gaiety has a palpable hit in \ “Darling! I Love You,” which came to ! London following a provincial tour, ! writes Alan Parsons in the “Daily i Mail.” The audience liked it, and rightly, ; for it is one of those happy-go-lucky, I “slap-bang” musical plays that aims at j nothing but entertainment, and is en- I tertaining. The central figure is George Clarke, j who is not exactly new to London, but is not widely familiar. Mr. Clarke — j who is supposed to be a musician made j to masquerade as an earl —is au ac- ; complislied “silly ass.” He can dance ; excellently; he has at least one funny j song and his motor-car turn, known to | variety audiences, is as expert as it is funny. The whole piece radiates round i him gaily, if, at times, a trifle over- 1 emphatically. Ella Logan is a “cute” dancer and j singer; and I liked some of the deep notes in Wyn Richmond's voice. Vera Lennox has not much of a part, but she and Harold French, as the two young people in. love, have a couple of songs that will be popular. Some of the amusing lines were:—“Do you fish with flies?” “No . . . with baited breath.” She: “How dare you swear before me ?” He: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to swear Neil McKay (bringing off a deal): | “Is it a bargain?” I George Clarke (enthusiastically): ] “It’s a remnant.” I George (when asked if he has a | singing spider in his insect collection) : “No. I had to destroy it. The creature learned ‘Sonny Boy.’ ” Neil McKay (criticising an engagement ring): “It’s not much of a stone.” Harold French: “Ah! but love is blind.” j Neil: “Yes, but not stone blind.” Full of Wit j They are pleasant things, these nine-to-eleven-o’clock plays by Captain H. •M. Harwood, and I, for one, would willingly do without a dismal Eugene O’Neill play to make up weight, such as we had last night at the Ambassadors. , “The Man in Possession” is very typical Harwood, full of wit and original fancy —light fare, perhaps, but eminently satisfying and stimulating. Raymond Massey plays the part of a-prodigal son, Raymond, who returns to the bosom of liis respectable, suburban family after a “stretch” in prison. Very full of disapproval they

are, especially brother Claude, who is engaged to a fascinating and penniless widow, Crystal (Isabel Jeans). Then on the very night when she is to entertain her future-in-laws, Crystal has a visit from a couple of bailiffs, one of whom is turning an honest penny this way. So Raymond finds himself “The Man in Possession!”

j “In the Zone,” which was played j first, is a typical O'Neill tale of a ship’s fo’c’sle in the war zone. Mr. Massey | gives a powerful performance as a I seaman suspected by his fellows of | hiding a bomb in the tin-box, which in | fact contains liis love-letters, j But it is a melancholy little play | which could, I fancy, afford to be I played in a slightly less ponderous ‘ manner. No Men j There is not a single male charac- ! ter in the cast of “Nine Till Six.” That | is the first novelty of the new play proj duced at the Arts Theatre Club. | Neither is there a love story nor a : definite plot. Yet, such is the deftl ness of their character drawing, the j naturalness of their dialogue, that the | authors, Aimee and Philip Stuart, have | given us a play of far more interest j than many a piece composed of chunks | of sentiment and blood and thunder j drama. | The scene of “Nine Till Six” is laid i in a millinery and dressmaking shop |in the West End of London. Its incij dents are almost entirely composed of the chit-chat of a number of shop girls. I One girl is accused of theft. An- ! other is guilty. But it is the charac- | tqrisation and the chatter that alone matter. Louise Hampon, as the proprietress |of the shop, was perfect. She was so j quiet, so effortlessly dignified, so | gentle, and yet so determined. Alison i Leggatt, Christine Silver and Marjory ! Clark were among the many others wlio made the behind-the-scenes o£ a : West End shop live, i The play is too good to disappear • aftet a week’s experimental “run” at j a semi-private theatre. The West End | has room for it.

Marie Ney in 10 Best Theatrical Personalities On London Stage

AN INTERESTING LIST William Pollock, the well-known) writer oa theatre topics, tabulates in .lie “Daily Mail” the ten players whom iq regards as the most interesting iheatrical personalities of: the moment. He gives them in the following t rier:—Maurice Browne, It. C. Sherriff, Colin Clive, Charles Laughton, Ray- ! mond Massey, G. S. Melvin, Frank, Vosper, Marie Ney, Ivor Novello and Tallulah Bankhead. Mr. Browne is, seemingly, the next

Basil Dean ill the London theatre He has risen to position through “Journey’s End.’ New Zealanders in terested in the pro gress of their pro fessional artists will be glad to see the name of Miss Ney included in so distinguished a company. At the

Lyric Theatre, ! ~ where “Murder on the Second Floor” j is doing good box office business. Miss : c Ney has a number of intere.sting vis v itors. Sir Nigel and Lady Playfair | e went to the back to see her the other j 0 evening, and next day Sydney Carroll i (an eminent writer on matters the at-; rical as well as being a playwright) j 1 looked in to congratulate her on her j part in the lead. He had seen Mr. g Vosper’s comedy twice previously, and ' went the third time to see Miss Ney, who succeeded Nora Swinbourne 1 when the latter left for an engage- i ment in the United States. , Miss Ney will take part at the end j of February in a special performance j • of a sa.tire which Sir Nig I*4 Playfair is , getting up for the Oxford Preservation , Fund Committee. There will be a matinee at the Haymarket and one performance at Oxford. The next Interesting revival at the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith, by the way, will be Sir Nigel Playfair’s production of "Dandy Dick,” with Marie Lohr as leading lady. William Faversham. Chats of the Stage SHAW AND HIS PLAYS William Favershani, whose Australian season opened last Saturday evening in Sydney, has been for many years a leading figure in the theatrical world in America. An Englishman by birth, and educated in England, he went to New York early in his stage career, and there built up a great reputation in drama and comedy roles, particularly in a long association at the Empire Theatre with Charles Frohman, who was, he declares, a genius. “I think.” he said, chatting, genially to a Sydney pressman, “that Henry Irving and Charles Frohman were two of the greatest men our profession has known. They rendered immense service to the English-speaking stage. The two men were a contrast in types —lrving, tall, autocratic, courtly; Frohman, a little stout man—but both achieved greatness. Frohman had an uncanny gift for appraising the qualities of a man in five minutes’ conversation with him, and withal he was so tolerant and kindly, and had so keen a sense of humour. “He was the greatest stage manager I have ever known. I was present at a meeting in Froliman’s New York office, when he and Irving considered their plans for a New York season. Frohman objected to one play after another, while Irving sat quietly listening. Finally he interposed, ‘You are objecting to this play and that play on the score of age; but you are forgetting that a great many children are born into the world every year, and that two generations have arisen to whom these plays are quite new.’ So Irving had his way, and retained ‘The Bells,’ and other pieces he had written upon his original list.” When George Bernard Shaw’s “Getting Married” was first “tried out” at the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith, before the Haymarket production, Faversham watched the performance in company with the author. “This is a fine play,” he said to Shaw. “I should like to do it in America.” "America!” exclaimed Shaw, inereduously. “Why, they wouldn’t understand it!” On the first night at the Haymarket he again asked Shaw: “Will you let me produce this play in America?” “We ], if you want to be a fool, and lose your money, I suppose you can do so,” replied Shaw. “I was delighted with the piece,” said Mr. Faversham, telling the story, “and I knew that it would go. So in due course I produced it iu New i Y'ork, at Booth’s Theatre. It was, as I had predicted, a great success. ] There was no great money in it, for we had an enormous salary list, since everyone in the cast was a star; but there was something more than money in it all —the great artistic prestige which that season brought to us.” There was an amusing correspondence with Shaw before the American production. Incidentally, the dramaI tist mentioned, in one of these letters, ; that “Getting Married” needed a cast; !of stars. “The man I dread,” he went j 1 on, “is the actor who thinks that Shaw j lis “intellectual drama,’ and that he; j must play it as if there were a sick; I person in the house, the result being j ! that the whole audience consists, of ! sick persons. There is absolutely j nothing subtle in my plays. Unless ; I know exactly what I mean, I don’t j say it, and when I do know, I give !it straight in the face. I don't care | whether the actor understands it or J not, provided he says it as if he meant it. Conviction is the Alpha and { Omega of Shaw playing.” ; In answer to this letter Faversham | wrote to him about the expense of I such a cast as he demanded, and sugj gested reconsideration of the royal- ! ties. Shaw, he states, wrote !in reply: “I am glad to see j that you are already feeling i the necessity of prudence to the ex- ! tent of asking me to reconsider my i terms. Y'ou might as well ask the ; Statue of Liberty to waltz around the | town with you. My terms are an j institution more mighty than the Conj stitutioa of tile United States.”

Broadway Sees Idol of China Drama of the East Thousands of Years Old

REPERTORY OF 400 PLAYS Mei Lan-fang, the theatrical idol ji China, is playing a season on Eroadwav, New York. It is his first appearance outside China and Japan. Mei Lan-fang was born to his dramatic kinship. His grandfather was also a famous actor, and his uncle, Yu-ti’en, who reared and trained him, was a fiine musician, famed for his playing of the hu-ch in, a stringed instrument. He taught Mei what he knows of music—which a great deal. The theatre is taken more seriously in China than it is in the Occident. It is a cherished tradition, a definite part of social life. A millennium ago the ancestors of the present Chinese watched the same plays that Mei gives today, with the actors observing the same conventions and wearug almost the same costumes. From hildhood the Chinese is familiar rith every gesture, every movement ivery word of the performance he ;oes to. Mei was born in 1593, which makes iim 37 years old. He was an inf am jrodigy and at seven a musican ot surprising ability. He made his theatrical debut at 12 in Peking, j vliere he gradually attained local ;ame. Finally, at the head of liis jwn company, when he w T as only 19 yearj3 old, he went to Shanghai, where the sensation he created started him on a triumphant career that soon made him the undisputed idol of Chinese playgoers. In 1917 he made his first tour abroad, opening at the Imperial Theatre in Tokyo and playing in other large cities of Japan. Mei’s only other foreign trip was also t-o Japan, in 1924, this time at the invitation of Baron Okura, the Japanese Maecenas, who is doing much to revive and preserve the arts of the East. His repertoire is enormous; it embraces some 400 plays, about a-quarter of which are modern and either his own creation or works on which he has collaborated. He is a close student of European drama. Tn Peking he lives a modest, unassuming life, shunning publicity, seldom showing himself, except to go to and from his theatre. The house in which he lives with his wife and children is a European one, set as incongruously in its Chinese surroundings as is the old Marshal Chang Tso-lin’s French chateau up in Mukden. He himself is slender, graceful and perfectly proportioned. The costumes lie will wear will cover him from head to foot, leaving only his hands and face free. The hands are a joy to look at’; the face a perfect oval, with rather full lips, but otherwise faultless in modelling. He will, of course, be heavily made up. With the Chinese, that is a primary art. There are no less than 20 steps in the make-up for one particular play. Apart from the application of such cosmetics as honey, powder and rouge, the operation most interesting to the foreigner, perhaps, is the intricate arrangement of the hair and wig. First a cloth band, with long strings, is fastened about the head. Seven locks of twisted hair are arranged along the band and fastened in place by the strings. A long strand of hair is attached to either side of the face, and another covering is placed on the head. Finally, the helper places the wig on, fastening it with the strands of hair. Attendants then come before him with cases of jewels and boxes of flowers, from which the artist chooses those to be worn for the occasion. And thus, finally, he is ready to appear. It is part of the actor’s art that despite the weight of the headdress and the greasiness of the cosmetics, he must always look as fresh as when he first comes on I the stage. ■ Every movement of the Chinese actor is executed according to irrevocable convention, at a well-defined rhythm and tempo. Every move of Mei’s finger, every glance of his eyes, every attitude of his body, presupposes a vast amount of study and must be executed according to the most rigid conventions of histrionic art. When Mei, in accordance with the action of his play, has to pass through a door he will be standing in the centre of a rather bare stage and he will carefully lift one foot and set it down. To every Chinese that will signify that he has entered another room or a house.- The knowing critic will watch carefully just how far Mei raises his foot, how his toes are pointed, his knee bent, the swaying of his body, the lilt of his bead, the precise tempo of the movement. They are all of importance. There are many such gestures, full of meaning to the initiated, but j utterly meaningless to the unin-j formed. For instance, Mei will raise I his hand in a certain way to show that he is leaning against a wall for support. He will bow his head genly, raising his hands slightly, palms upward, to signify that he is weeping. A Chinese critic will watch keenly Mei’s use of the sleeves, the angle of his neck, his fingers, his famous hands, his gait, his eyes, his dancing. If, in the course of his play, he should have to slip in the mud, for instance, it must be done in such a manner as to combine both grace and a touch of realism. Ann Davis, who has gone to Australia under engagement to J. C. Williamson, Ltd., for the William Faversham tour, made her first appearance on the stage as Mary Turner in “With-, in the Lav.” Among other leading ; roles Miss Davis has played are Louise i in “Accused,” by Brieux, in the Bel- \ asco production in New York five ' years ago, when E. H. Sothern was ( the Edmond de Verron; the crippled j girl, Lalage Sturdee, in “The Out- j sider,” the title role of which was j played by Lionel Atwell; and Zoe, in Pinero’s “Mid-Channel.” with Conway ; Tearle as Blundell. Miss Davis was ' born in America of English parents, j