Life — May 19, 1927 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

Old and New We are not at all proud of our inability to enjoy Viennese operettas. We have a feeling that it implies something vicious in our nature, some unsavory ion which rejects honest fun and simple melodies and sneers at elementary entertainment of a worthy, naive robustness. Just ¢ sophistic laughing at Fred Stone, so do we record, with apologies, that we were pretty bored at “The Circus Princess.” “The Circus Princess” has everything that a guod, big entertainment should have. There is a score by Kalman and a book which, if it is not distinguished, is atany rate not bad. It has George Hassell as comedian (here, we are relieved to remember, we did laugh ocea- sionally, but only from the diaphragm and over the dead body of our better instincts), and a juvenile, Mr. Guy Robertson, who threw the house into an uproar at the end of the second act with his really dramatic ren- dering of the custo Cs tive finale. It also has a tremendous circus scene with the entire Han- neford mé including the bouncing “Poodles” and the Queen Dowager. And yet it seemed at times as if we should never see that final curtain coming down. As a matter of fact, we didn’t. HIS whole school of Danube entertainment eludes us. We have a great good will toward it and we sit and look, with envious glances, at the broad, smiling faces in the audience. But practically nothing is fanned ls flame inside our breast. On the contrary, a great lethargy comes over us. All the people in the Viennese school seem to be junds contract to deliver their lines and to sing as if they were about to juggle plates. They tilt back, with one foot forward, and stretch forth one hand with the fingers arranged in symmetrical progression like Daniel Webster saying, “Massachusetts, there she stands!” (if he did say it). Now there must be something in the lines which makes actors instinctively take this stance. The lines, the music, the lyrics, the whole spirit of the thing is of highly polished mahogany. George Hassell may make all the funny faces he pleases (and they are very funny faces) but you feel that they are something that he himself has put in through desperation. If you will (and can) listen to his lines you will sce that his comedy is quite adventitious. There is no comedy in the book or the situations. There is no life in the idea, tad there is no originality in the music. The whole thing is a gigantic Punch and Judy show, and we are very sorry that, through a life of sin, we have lost the simplicity of spirit to enjoy it. HF. burden of proof is therefore on us when we say that we laughed loudly and often at “Hit the Deck.” There is a note in the humor of young Mr. Herbert Fields that is as fresh as the Viennese humor (per Harry B. Smith) is old. There is a twist to Vincent Youmans’ music which is, compared with the honeyed rhythms of Herr Kalman, as electricity is to gas-light. The whole spirit is alive, just as the whole spirit of the pompous Austrian display is elaborately but unques- tionably dead. The chorus dances which S for “Hit the Deck” show inge spirit of willing labor on the concerned, There is an obviou: to give the public something new for its money. This revolutionary tendency in musical comedy is worthy of one raucous huzza—which is hereby given. I 22, 35 2. | OUISE GROODY heads the cast of “Hit the Deck” and is pretty sweet for our taste, but that is neither here nor there. Charles King and the rest of the male members of the company are highly masculine, as befits a tale of Uncle Sam’s Navy, and Stella Mayhew makes a colored mammy seem like a new type of part, a gigantic achievement in itself. —o* grass —— W hesitate to give examples of the lines by Mr. elds at which we laughed, but here are a couple. Miss Groody, in explaining why she kept a coffee shop, said: “When Father died I had to do something.” And Mr. King said: “I suppose you buried him.” If that is too gruesome, let us hear what the gob said when the young lady asked him if he danced: “No, but I'll hold you while you dance.” And after the fox-trot, when he apologized for danc- ing on her feet, she replied graciously: “T didn’t mind your dancing on my feet. It was the jumping on and off that hurt.” Perhaps they are funnier when you hear them spoken. Robert Benchley. nour Felix has arranged ty on his part and a art of the young people and success ful—desire comicbooks.com