Judge — May 23, 1931 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

| | AVING heard breathless reports H in the closing weeks of the Civic Repertory Theatre that, whatever anyone may have thought of the Mlle. Eva Le lienne’s acting ability in the past, she was certainly ripping up the carpets with her per- formance of “Camille”, I got out my old South Pole Expedition outfit ag and made the perilous journey down to the icy histrionic regions of Four- teenth Street. And if you think iy furs were out of place during the show, you don't know your Civic Repertory Theatre and how cold act- ing can be. I have seen a lot of Camilles in my day. I have seen French Camilles, English Camilles, German Camilles, Scandinavian Camilles, Italian Ca- milles, New York Camilles, hinter- land stock company Camilles, and I once even saw a coon Camille. The Mile. Le Gallienne’s Camille was by no means the worst of the lot—she had a slight edge on one or two of the stock company Camilles and there is no doubt that she was better than the colored lady—but I tell you only the simple truth when I that, all breathless reports to the contrary not- withstanding, she was otherwise just about the most woefully incompetent Camille that this pr far in his studies run I had hoped that she would be a good one, if only for the opportunity it would have afforded me to something nice about her at essor has thus cross. terrupted series of dispa views. But though I attended her efforts on this occasion even with a mind made up to admire her work or die in the attempt, I couldn't get my- self to do anything about it. the first scene in th atier boudoir in which Marguerite’s coquetry re- called nothing so much as Bert Savoy, to the death scene which was played out of bed and in the middle of the floor exactly after the fashion of the demise of Uncle Tom, the Le Galli- From JUDGE 0 FORGE J enne Camille was something not to tell one’s g rhildren ut. It is my conclusion, ra careful scrutiny of any number of Miss Le Gallienne’s performances, that she does not act a role so much as she gives an imitation of an actress acting it. Some moments of that imitation are approximately real, but it is al- 's plainly and clearly an imitation, She is an inferior kind of Elsie Janis mimicking the vocal intonations, the mannerisms and the general comport- ment of an impersonating whatever role happens to be in 1 And like a sometime catches the surface verisimilitude of a performa perfort moving and : actress mimic, she ly persuasive, reputation she enjoys is unquestionably based not in the least upon in her acting but upon her enormous capacity for hard work, which she substitutes for her lack of y real talent and which often a is sympathetically confounded with com- petence. Miss Le Gallienne, in addition to her praiseworthy and beaver-like zeal, as another virtue. She speaks clearly nd her enunciation is nearly perfect. But in any other acting direction she is a complete and magnificent zero. She cannot even walk properly. Her carriage—and all you have to do to te the fact is to watch her in is so awkward as to be humorous, ple to get under the skin of a role, w er it is, and simply disports herself, with the stock tricks of mummery, on its shiny c ing. She has never learned ac reserve, reads almost all her lines in exactly the same tone and with no softening of emphasis, and conse- quently has next to nothing left over after first act with which to meet the crescendo demands of drama, And she always rings false. You never believe her for a moment. She may look a role and at times she may give out the appropriate sounds connected with it, but she never is the role. Her 18 I SIALDEACRE: smile is the emotionally meaningles smile of a master of ceremonies; her tears are as dry as dust; her emotions are wholly and entirely laryngeal. As for the production of “Camille.” it was crude, slipshod and generally amateurish, save only in the ¢ the performances of Morgan Farley as Armand and Le Roberts Prudence. In conclusion, I may that, though I have si Camilles, as I've said, I never knew until I saw Miss Le Gallienne’s that what Camille died of was catarrh. 8 «* n innumerabl: I conress to a gross and unseemly sensitiveness as to the names of plays, which every now and the me to have one hell of a time v self getting myself to go to whose title pains me. th my- nh exhibit Let some advertise a play legs.” “Such a Little Queen,” Stranger,” “Mrs. Moonligh “Room of Dr “Give Me Y, gold, n may be found that evening either in bed or in a speakeasy. And usually, he finds, with what subse quently proves to be a very high de gree of foresight and intelligence. Of course, anyone can make mistakes and it sometimes turns out that a play named after baby isn’t such a bad on after all. But in the common run of things, it generally happens that when you hear of a play called ‘Moon! and Honeysuckle,” or “Lass o' L. ter,” or “The Adorable Liar, “Hearts Are Trumps” or something like that, you may just as well keep your money in your pocket. For play called “Alice-Sit-by-the F or “Michael and His Lost Angel” that nevertheless proves to lx entertaining, you'll discover a dozen called by such similarly pansy titles as “The Cinderelative,” “Love in Mist,” “Daddy Dumplings” or “Smil in’ Through” that make you feel lik: running back home, clouting your wife over the head with the beer kez (Continued on page 32) comicbooks.com