Judge — November 3, 1917 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WEEN BE T hy CYRIL “ HANKS, awfully, old man! But perhaps you'd better | ount me out,” said the Movie Enthusiast. “Truth is, I never go to plays any more. I've lost interest in them. When I want an evening's entertainment I generally yo to the Strand or the Rialto.” ‘0 the films have made ordinary drama seem tame to you?” asked the Critic. “Then let me persuade you, even against your will, to come with me to ‘Tiger Rose’ this evening. You may find a surprise. I haven't seen the play yet; but Belasco an- nounces it as a melodrama, and any melo- drama put on by him is apt to provide some thrills, Indeed, that old fellow has more ingenious tricks up his sleeve than all the film producers put together. They're so clever that they interest you even when they irritate you. But come along. You'll find the decrepit spoken drama can give some pretty lively kicks before it dies. “Well, I will, then—just to see if you're right.” At the close of the first act, that evening, the Critic inquired: “Are you bearing up all right?” “Don't worry about me!” “And you don’t mind hearing actors’ voices again, and seeing a picture that doesn’t jiggle?” “LM make believe I don't mind, anyhow.” As the play progressed the Movie Enthusiast became more and more absorbed. By the middle of the third act his interest was so intense that he entertained no thought of criticism or comment. Then the storm began. The window curtains of the old Post House were seen to blow about under the influence of a carefully constructed bree: The door, left carefully open, swayed to and fro on its hinges with a most exemplary creaking sound, and there pattered a down- pour of really truly water. “Isn't that wonderful!” said the Movie Enthusiast. While the busy electric fans whirred and the patent plumbing poured, all through the audience one could hear the Belasco Worshipers murmuring ecstatically, “Real water! Real wind!” But the distraction was only temporary. Hy- draulic pressure subsided and dramatic tension was resumed. During the rest of the play the Movie nthusiast sat spellbound. At the close he exclaimed, “Well, that's a corking good show. I’m mighty glad you brought me to it. “So you found the effete old spoken drama wasn’t such a back number after all?” “Yes—if it can do things like this. you think of the play? “First-class melodrama, I call it. That trapdoor scene was thrilling enough for anybody.” “Reminds me of the melodramas I used to see when I was a kid —I'd sit up in the ‘peanut gallery,’ But what do C U RTA N §$ tNDREW with my eyes just bulging—only this was done so well that it seemed real to me even now; and I suppose that if I saw one of those old hair-raisers today I'd laugh at it. One reason for the difference is Miss Ulrich. She's a wonder, isn't she?” “Yes, very accomplished. I don’t know much about the French Canadian dialect, but it seems to me she gives quite a vivid portrayal of the type she is supposed to represent Willard Mack, also, both as author and actor, has built up an interesting character in the shape of the Mounted Policeman of the wilds.” “And the staging is wonderful, isn't it? That ruined cabin was great.” “Very clever indeed. And Belasco will have his lite storm.” “Oh bosh! You can say what you please | lV about it, but I think it is about as. re- markable as anything in the show.” But you'll admit it distracted your interest for the time being.” “Suppose it did—what of it? Personally I like clever realism, even when it is trick realism. Anything that can make me sit up and take notice the way that storm did suits me even if it breaks a dozen rules, I'd rather see one Belasco storm than sit through four acts of drawing room gabble such as the average play was made up of when I quit going to the theater. By the way, isn’t there still a lot of parlor pifile being given on Broadway?” “Yes, there are several comedies of manners—to call them by the more flattering name—now running.” “Well, I'm glad you didn’t take me to one of them.” Jh, I don’t know. I think you'd find ‘Saturday to Mond. highly entertaining. It’s very light, to be sure, but the dialogue is perhaps the wittiest we have had this season, and the whole thing is played with such del’cacy and mirth-tickling satire that it affords no end of amusement. Cecil Yapp, in particular, is deliciously funny: —But, speaking of fun, the thing I have laughed at hardest this year is a scene in ‘The Riviera Girl.” Have you been to that?” “Yes. My dislike for plays has not applied to musical shows, for girls are m interesting in the real than in the films.”” “A gentleman must always consider the ladies!” “But what scene in ‘The Riviera Girl’ was it that you found so amusing?” here were several quite funny ones, but the scene where Sam Springer and his wife talked about their first meeting and sang that perfectly screaming song about the bungalow in Quogue . . . well, I laughed till T ached. Hardy is about as good a comedian as any I know. He and Joseph Urban, whose gorgeous color rhapsodies were a thrilling delight, carried off the honors of the piece. The Riviera Girl herself was only a pretty detail.” comicbooks com