ROUND THE CLOCK

Stratford Evening Post, Volume I, Issue 499, 22 July 1932, Page 3

ROUND THE CLOCK

; LONDON’S CRAZE—AND CRAZY SHOWS (By Neil Murray.) LONDON, June 9.—The biggest thing that has happened to the Lon. don theatre within recent years is the present boom in non-stop enter, tainment! Only a few weeks ago, the craze for non-stop variety—vaudeville per. formances going on without a break from 2 p.m. until midnight, and at prices undercutting the cinema houses —began with headquarters at two West End theatre. Now six cf them have “gone non-stop;’;; whole chains of cinemas in the suburbs and in the provinces are being coo verted to the new policy; restaurants and night clubs are featuring nou.stop cabaret; while, beginning next week, London is to see. its. first non-stop play programme. At- the Duke of York’s, an entertainment of five Grand Guignol plays and a “revuette” is to run continuously from early afternoon to mid- • night. Even Miss Irene Vanbrugh has come under the non-stop influence. Her new play. “The Price of Wlis. ffom,” which has this week had its premiere -at the Ambassadors! Theatre, is put on twice daily*—a bold and unusual policy for a "small theatre with an intimate play. She believes that theatregoers should he . able to go. to the • theatre whenever they please. That is the secret of the success of continuous variety, end Irene Vanbrugh advocated it long before contimfons variety had been thought of. If it is a success, the experiment will not end there. Theatrical managers in London are already talking about the idea of running three shows a day, probably with two companies. Undoubtedly, the novelty of non-stop variety has attracted many people to the music hall who never went there before, and managers are of the opinion that the same can be done with “straight” plays and musical, comedy. You go to nou.stop variety at practically any hour ol? the day, without having to book seats, without having to wear evening dress. True I enough), fit .Is sometimes necessary j to queue up for a seat, but that is j •only a tribute to the immense popularity of the new idea. I Twice, within recent weeks, when l I have sought to see the programme) at the London Pavilion, round about 6 p.m., long queues have stretched on either side for half a block. Sometimes the aid icf the police has to be called, to move people on, so great is the rush to see the “non-stop.” Once inside, you see the programme round clockwise. If you have entered during Item Six, you simply; sit in ycur-seat until it comes round again. There are comfortable lounges ■and bars attached to the theatres to which it is possible to retire, should ■ one of the acts prove boring (which they seldom do). “The stars cf the the world in non-stop variety.” Such is the claim for the new entertainment. There are no intervals, and rarely more than half a minute elapses during the changing of the acts. The performers themselves work at top speed, but they seem to enjoy it. After all, this new high speed craze has brought back life to what was regarded as dead and done with—the popularity of music halls, For years, as the competition, oi the cinema and revue has grown music hall artists have starved foi work. Many have been forced out oi the business, and now, when turns are wanted again, the managers and agents are wondering where they art td be found. For stars of the music hah'are not made in a night. Not to he outdone, the few ordin-1 ary variety houses remaining in Lon, don are putting on new ideas in the way cf entertainment. The Pallad. i him, for instance, has announced that during June, it has “gone crazy!” j Every night, when the audience lie- ; gins arriving, it sees such diverting i spectacles as Nervo and Knox play- i ing leapfrog on |he pavement out- < side; Geoi'ge Clarke opening the i doors of taxi cabs; Bud Flanagan in < his battered straw hat, and huge bearskin coat, waving a tattered < umbrella and sh uting: “The stalls i are upstairs tonight!” ‘ j The whole programme is conducted on these lines. The players do half t their stuff from vantage points ; among the audience: at one point, e bevy of shrieking ballet girls is pur-, sued through the theatre by a man . with a hatchet; cauliflowers and i cabbages are thrown at the audience , by the performers, and they arc supposed to be thrown back! All < the attendants have straws in their hair! Printed throughout the programmes are such wisecracks as “Watch your neighbour, as he may be crazy too!’ or “All complaints must be made or the back of 'a ten-shilling postal order.” At the end you are told that “The whole gang w : sh you good, night and ask you to come again—you never know what’s gc-ing to hap. pen!” So London’s variety boom, which started so suddenly, continues . It is all great fun, ami entertainment, that appeals particularly to the British temperament. Best of all, it is actually cheaper than going to the cinema. In these > days of de luxe film theatres, the | charges in the West End range trim; 2s 6d to Ss 6d, Seats are available | at non-stop variety from Is to ss. Is nicotine poisonous? Well, wha' about the case of Alice Crawford, the young domestic, whose terrible ■ death was recently recorded in Loudon. One day the poor girl rushed into her - mistress’s presence shriek- ' ing that she had been poisoned. Five 1 minutes later she was dead. Appeared that her i master kept a bottle- of ■ liquid niopyne in bis room, used it to kill wqhds! Curiosity evidently prompted, deceased to taste it. Hot lips and longue were badly burned And ■ this: is the deadly poison so 1 many men absorb into their systems i every time they smoke their pipes. Taken , that way nicotine is slow but sure —and every pipeful of some tobaccos contains an appreciable quantity of the poison! Why smoke such stuff when you can get New Zealand tobacco anywhere and which, owing to its being toasted, is practically free from nicotine, quite innocuous, and famous for flavour and fragrance? There are only four brands. Riverhead Gold. Navy Cut No. 3. Cavendish, and Cut Plug No. 10. Btu take cafe what you buy —there are imitations.