Judge — June 6, 1925 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

The spiritist medium, who has gotten Shakespeare and Julius Casar through table rapping, has tried five minutes and can't get a waiter. A Lulu and Some Others Continued from page 17) in our town to a play like Wede- kind’s which vouchsafes us not only kisses that suggest a glue factory in July but certain other sex delica- tessen beside which the amorous pastimes in “Tie Harem” scem like so much handholding. In order to persuade a New York jake audience to accept such a play with a straight face, hocus-pocus, and a lot of it, is necessary. Belasco might turn the trick. But the present manage- ment unfortunately forgot to lay in a sufficient number of expensive lamps and to put in the program an impressing note setting forth lauda- tory opinions of the play by Brander Matthews, Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont and Charlie Schwab. “Erpoeist,” or, you insist, “Tur Loves or Lunu,” is the most violent sex play of the modern theater. It tells the story, for three- quarters of the distance brilliantly and effectively, of a hot mamma's libido on the loose, It is not to be recommended as a play for you to take your grandmother to as your grandmother will probably have sneaked into the mid-week matinée and there's no use making the good old soul sit through it twice just to oblige you 0 “A Brt o° Love,” by John Gals- worthy, on the other hand, is so painfully clean that your grandmother would doubtless sock you one if you took her to it. Per- sonally, despite numerous _ ironic reports to the contrary, I have noth- ing against clean plays, provided they have got something in them besides mere cleanness, This Gals- worthy exhibit, however, lacks that something. It is gracefully written, as are all of the estimable Johann’s plays, but mere graceful writing doesn’t go to make drama any more than mere yellow satin vests and the joke about a polar bear being the man who carries the coffin at a funeral go to make a minstrel show. “A Bit o’ Love” is so lacking in drama, in point of fact, that along toward the middle of it most people in the audience feel like going out into Forty-cighth street and siccing “Do you let your child play in the mud? When mine was that age he could read the newspapers.” “Maybe—but I prefer to let mine play in the mud.” ~Passing Show (London) comicbooks.com