Judge — June 2, 1923 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

SUDDEN DEATH OF A MATINEE IDOL. New doorman at the Lambs’ Club: “What name, please?” AMERICA’S LEADING COMIC WEEKLY I ne Punch and Judy Theater is running JupGe a hard race America’s leading comic weekly This week's issue of the Punch Judy is a drama by Josephine Turck Baker called “The A that is a veritable. mine of humor. ‘That the fair author didn’t mean it to be funny has nothing to do with the case. Colum: bus set out to find China and achieved America, La Baker set out to achie drama and found a bang-up burlesque show. The thing begins with the program. A glance at this shows that La Baker whether cutie or grande dame deponent sayeth not) is what may inclegantly be described as the whole works. “Josephine Turck Baker"—I set down its reading somewhat frecly—“presents “The Apache,” by Josephine Turck Baker from an idea by Josephine Turck Baker. At the end of the second act Josephine Turek Baker will play her own composi- tion, ‘Victory.’ and will appear in-place of Miss Magrane, especially engaged for the star role by Josephine Turck Baker, during the immediately preceding the piano number. Josephine Turck Baker, director and stage man- r. Rodney Richmond, business man- r for Josephine Turck Baker. — Jose- phine Turck Baker’s gown by Wiirzburger et Cie, hat by Pschorrbriiu Fréres, shoes by Pilsner Saeurs. Josephine Turck Baker's aigrette in the scene preceding the piano number (Josephine ‘Turck Baker uses the Kranich & Bach piano exclusively) is am exact duplicate of the aigrette worn by Josephine Turck Baker at the Longchamps races last year. Josephine Turck Baker's play, “The Apache,’ is copyrighted and duly pro- tected | and must not be performed without Josephine Turck Baker's per- mission, Address — Josephine Turck Baker, Punch and Judy Theater, New York. Josephine Turck Baker plans to ent two other powerful dramas by »phine Turck Baker next season.” scene by George Jean Nathan Then the curtain goes up and_ the genuine sport begins. On a couch at st ft reclines luxuri- ously a cabot blessed with the name of Juan De La Cruz. This Juan is very swell in a Kaskel & Kaskel lounging robe, the expensive elegance of which he is not entirely unmindful of. Over him bends a cabotess blessed not less fancily with the name of Thais Magrane. Juan and Thais, in Josephine Turck Baker's brain-child, are man and wife. But Juan suspects this Thais of a faur pas with one Beaucaire, a hot dog with the ladies. He bites his lip: he clenches his fist: he gazes hard at the eight or ten rows of deadheads; he groans. What todo? “Your wife,” a bad actor named Willard Dashiell says to him, “will be a loose woman if you think she is a loose Thoughts are things! The rican Academy of Science has proved Thoughts—are—thin A’ green spotlight now lands on Juan’s profile. There is a long period of silence. Juan, one gathers, is about to dream a dream. Te does. In the dream, Juan, unable to Coué himself into believing in his wife's chas- tity, becomes an evil apache and returns to his spouse's chamber hissing that save he have her—body and soul—he will kill her. Nay, you shall not possess me, says his wife. Ah, I will, I will! exclaims Juan, Nay, you shall not possess me, says his wife. Ah, I will, I will! exclaims Juan, Nay, you shall not possess me, vs his wife. Ah, T will, T will! exclaims Juan. Whereupon the dirty bum goes and chokes her. The old girl, however, has presence of mind enough to do a little yelling, and this scares Juan who, pausing only for a farewell “Ah, I will, I will!” sneaks out of the dump. This finished the first half of the entertain- I me. I spent the rest of the in the rear aisle of the New Theater looking the ‘y time I go to the Punch and Judy Theater I seem to find myself around ten o'clock over at the “Follies.” Perhaps, after all, I am a flippant and woman, 9 inconsequent fellow, unfitted for the appreciation of true art as the Punch and Judy weekly reveals it. If so, [ offer my humble apologies to Josephine Turek Baker and commit her to the care of my more iesthetic colleagues. II Gomznony’s kidding somebody. We ‘J have had the French Art Theater, the Moscow Art 1 the Yiddish Art Theater and a n other Art Theaters—and now we have the Ethiopian Art Theater. It is all right once ina while, but if anyone sends me tickets next week for another Art Theater Tam going to hire an express taxi and get down to the Olympic burlesque theater in Fourteenth Street as fast_as the driver can fetch me there. The Moscow Art Theater was an art theater, The rest. of these art theaters are art theaters in the degree mountain oysters contain. pearls. hese Art Theaters are not only killing art, but they are killing the theater to boot. They are largely fraudulent, hol- low, ridiculously pretentious, and dull. They alienate the boobs who get into them under the impression that. some- thing exceptionally recherché and clegant is going to be on tap, and send them packing to “Abie’s Irish Rose” by way of relief. They bore to a frazzle good folk who might otherwise be converted in due time into intelligent theatergoers and make these good folk breathlessly of antidote, I stuff. I my- eager once again, by for the old low theatric self, after Theaters, it up for a Carpenter. The newest of the Art Theaters finds coons hard at it. And with what With Oscar's “Salome!” open up a negro art the adresse” or “Pasteur, As well Art T in with * or the Yiddish Art Theater with “The Sign of the Cross.” I should (Continued on page 25) to. whoop Childs most read) by Edward