STANDARDISED ACTING.
*• (By Alan Bott.) Twentieth century standardisation, which has most of our careers m its maws, seems to have conquered the actor’s profession. Most modern plays are imagined in terms of types; and in London all but a very few 1 are cast , on the same basis. There is, for instance, the type of the sympathetic-young thing. ‘‘Next time you have to write about a play' 1 am in,” said an able actress the other day, ‘‘do realise that it isn t my choice that 1 always have to be so sweet and mushy.” Some years ago, she made a success as a Barrie heroine. Thereafter it was as an interpreter of the truly nice girl, with an understanding nature, (hat managers remembered "Iter. In nearly eVery cash the parts offered were 1 .ii.g.’s— only the later authors hadn’t Barrie’s magic, which can transmute girlishness into naturalistic sentiment. And all the while she was anxious to play parts that made fun of sentimentalism. A few weeks ago, in a revival, she had her first chance of this , sort, and made the excellent most,ol it. She is now hqping that later chances will further release her from her. doom as a sympathetic young tiling. i To belong to this particular stage type, you should have fair hair. For sweetness, playwrights and public prefer blondes. For an attractive blonde in the early twenties', before she makes much of a reputation, one of the few escapes from sugared roles is to acquire slang, an Eton crop, a golf handicap and a let’s-all-be-hearty manner. These can • bring her character parts of the ultramodem type, which is less overcrowded. In it, frequent jobs are more likely at the moment, although in a few years’ time it may be out of fashion! .Personable brunettes seem to he classified as adventuresses, pieces of somebody’s past, friends of the family, sedate young matrons, or the heroine’s sister. Let any of them successfully play an adventuress ill the West End production, and half a dozen other adventuress parts will he offered. Tbere is also, among other types, that of The perfect lady. Ready names come at once into the producer’s mind when he lias to fill the role of an Tnclubitable, lady. Miss That or Miss To- * ther —either would do. Both are evident ladies—he recognises that when he meets them at a private.partv. Either would merely have to be hereelr,; but since the appearance of Miss To ther would contrast better with that of the star, it is she whom he chooses. Actors appear to ho tied to a type less inevitably than are actresses. Certain names, and tapes, however, always .suggest' themselves for such standardised characters as the shy lover, the well-poised crook, the domineering financier, the subtle schemer, the rotter, the silly ass, or the Man Who Knows What To Do. Producers and authors declare that perhaps the hardest type to cast exactly is one of the • most ordinary; wlnil ; American newspapers would call a “clubman”—the : sort of fairly young man, sure about the correctitude of himself and his inconspicuously just-, right clothes, who may be seen by the dozen in the Bath Club or the Junior Naval and Military. For a West End actor in that category there are few intervals between engagements. These . specialised grooves detract from a player’s versatility, and are probably not a good tiling for the contemporary stage. They tend to suppress originality. But what can ambitious actors or actresses, anxious for broader experience, do about it? The jobs and -salaries are there, on condi - tion that they are willing to repeat themselves Tliey are not there if they insist on being versatile. - V . Give some of the type-bound players a chance, and they surprise the producers. When Barrie’s “Half an Hour” was taken to Australia by an English company, the actress cast fori; the Cockney maid fell ill. Another girl in a less important role sugested that she should fill the part. “But you wouldn’t do,” said the manager. “You’re too tall for one tiling, and too dark, and not pathetic enough.” She disappeared into her dressingroom. and returned so perfectly mane up as an underfed skivvy that the manager did not recognise her. .. And her interpretation of the part, was praised throughout the tour. Consider, also, Miss Edna Best. She became famous through a performance, sumo four years ago, as a charming superficial fluff-girl with modem .mannerisms. During four years she was obliged to portray similar fluff-girls. Then, in “Tho Constant Nymph,” she bad her chance to reveal a character that went far deeper—a beautifully imagined adolescent beneath whose skin'it was possible for an actress touch fine chords. She took the T chance, and gave the performance of bod career—thus, far. Meanwhile, it is interesting to note that (ruling out the crook, rotter and adventuress roles) certain actors and actresses who forever play the same type get into the, habit of using its mannerisms off the stage. To some, indeed, the mannerisms are natural —they become professionally standardised as themselves. As a rule, the racy comedienne is amusing and adorable over the dinner-table, and the perfect lady on the stage is, elsewhere, always the perfect lady.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DUNST19270103.2.53
Bibliographic details
Dunstan Times, Issue 3355, 3 January 1927, Page 8
Word Count
868STANDARDISED ACTING. Dunstan Times, Issue 3355, 3 January 1927, Page 8
Using This Item
Allied Press Ltd is the copyright owner for the Dunstan Times. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence. This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Allied Press Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.