THE CRITIC.

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 19, 22 January 1881, Page 186

THE CRITIC.

Quite the most enjoyable performance I have witnessed recently at the theatre was that of "Pink Dominos," which, for some inscrutable reason the management pxit up for one night 'only. The acting all round proved unusually good, and the house roared and roared again with laughter. Lingard's Josiah Babb, though not a patch on Ashley's, is boisterously funny, and Mr. Steele played Charles Melville uncommonly Avell.

It has been my lot to see "Ours," which, properly played and mounted, is one of the finest and most effective comedies ever written oftener than almost any other play. I saw the original cast at the Prince of Wales' Theatre, in London, as long ago as 1867, and have since assisted at at least two revivals of the piece there. I also saw young Robertson's provincial company play it at the Amphitheatre, Liverpool, and shall not forget in a hurry lioav the pit rose, and, quite carried away with military enthusiasm, huzzaed at the end of the second act. It has also been my fate to witness a pretty bad amateur performance of the comedy, but on no occasion have I seen it so recklessly and deliberately murdered as it was on Saturday last. The result was the more aggravating because wholly unexpected. The public knew Mr. DeLias meant to mount the piece handsomely, and there seemed no earthly reason why the company should not play it passably. Strange to say, scarcely one of them appeared to have conceived their parts properly, and two or three absolutely didn't know the words. Now, Robertson's plays' will not (as Mr. Lingard, with his experience, surely ought to know) stand such rough and ready treatment. In a bustling farcical piece like "PinkDominos" a sentence or so left out, a situation missed, or a point unscored doesn't much matter, but in "Caste" and "Ours" success depends wholly on the authors ideas being carried out to perfection. Those who saAv " Ours," for the first time, on Saturday night, unhesitatingly pronounced it a dull, stupid play, whilst two or three new chums, who had been at the Prince of Wales' last year, cried out with horror at the atrocities committed. First and foremost, the leading parts were (as I have said) utterly misconceived. Mr. Lingard converted Sergeant Jones — whom Mr. Frederick Younge, Mr. Collette and Mr. Forbes Robertson invariably represented as a trim, stiff, upstanding soldier, with neat uniform, iron-grey hair and a faculty for saying (quite unconsiously) the funniest things in the solemnest manner — into a red (and shock-headed) country bumpkin, dressed up in a ragged old uniform, and perpetually grinning like an imbecile. The scene in the second act, Avhere the young ladies offer to take care of Mrs. Jones, and where the sergeant, in a choking voice, and with eyes full of tears, hints at the advent of another' little stranger, was changed from a touch of the finest comedy into the broadest and vulgarest farce. But the fact is, the second act, from end to end, was mulled in a most extraordinary manner. One bit, where Angus asks Blanche to sing Mm his favourite song and she goes to the piano and breaks down, was (why, I can't think) left out altogether. Then, too, the ribbon incident got completely missed. Properly speaking, Prince Perovsky enters the room "before Angus goes out, but seeing Blanche is engaged bidding farewell to her cousin he, with praiseworthy delicacy, walks to the window and surveys, from the balcony, the regiment assembling in the square beloAV, the band of which is playing (as if at some little distance away) "The Girl I Left Behind Me." Meanwhile Angus says good bye, and Blanche, who at first refused him a ribbon, relents, and half fainting, unties her neck ribbon and throws it to him. From this point till the end of the act the tramp, tramp, tramp of the troops passing by is heard beneath the window, and the band of each regiment, playing some famous air, dawns on the ear grows louder and louder till it has passed, and then fades away in the distance. The climax arrives when "Ours," (General Shendryn's and Angus's regiment) the band playing the love song of the first act, is declared by Mary Netley and Chalcot to be coming Lady Shendryn sinks weeping on the sofa. Blanche, trying to cross the room, falLs fainting on the floor, and above all can be heard the shouts of the populace and the steady tramp of the troops. It is at this crisis I have seen audiences almost ungovernably excited and carried away. In fact, properly done, the finale is one of the best a drop scene ever fell on. How wretchedly feeble the end of the second act was last Saturday, those who Avere there alone knoAV *For some extraordinary reason the window of the room Avas made to open on the street, and before our astonished eyes passed a couple of dozen soldiers and a white horse. Why this effect Avas attempted at all I cannot for the life of me understand. The other is infinitely more effective, and can be realised without difficulty, in fact amateurs have repeatedly got through it successfully. In the hands of Mr. Steele, Hugh Chalcot becomes a very commonplace individual. The Chalcot of the late Mr. John Clarke (not John S. Clarke) and Mr. Bancroft was a misanthropic, somewhat languid SAvell, AA r ith a draAvl and an eyeglass. In the third act the misanthropy and languor dissapeared, but the drawl, and even the eyeglass were still there. Had Mr. Craig knoAvn his part, his Angus might have passed 'muster, and the same remarks apply to Mr. Overtoil's General Shendryn. The less said about Mr. Westford's Prince Perovsky the better. Mrs. Lingard is scarcely sufficient of an ingenue to make| a great success as Blanche. By the way why Avas the famous air from the "Chanson de Fortunio," which from time immemorial has been associated with the words of the love song in "Ours" replaced by the dirge-like ditty warbled on Saturday night. Surely Mr. Searell knows it. Miss Huran's voice and manner enabled her to give a fair,

though of course sadly, superficial representation of Mary Netley. In the hands of Mrs. Bancroft, Mary is the heroine of the piece. Here she sinks into insignincence by the side of Blanche. It Avould be easyto write a great deal more about this production, but space is valuable and the sitbject not very interesting. Mr. De Lias mounted the piece well. It is a pity the company couldn't take a little pains to play it properly.

This (Friday) evening Alice Lingard takes a well-earned benefit in the popular "East Lynne," which Avill be folloAved by Famie's burlesque of "Pluto," which I don't remember having seen before.

"Don Juan Junior " is the title of a successful new burlesque at the Royalty Theatre, London. Alice May lias made a hit as the heroine of a very racy opera louffe, entitled " Los Mousquetairos," produced at the Globe, London, in November. Creswick has been playing King Lear at the Snrrey Theatre, London, to poor houses. He suiters much from hoarseness. Arrangements have been made whereby Mrs. Lewis's Juvenile Pinafore Company will visit New Zealand in six weelcs's time, followed by the> Williamsons with " Struck Oil." Both companies open^at the Bluff. Mr. Henry James, Jr.'s new story, begun in the October Macmillan's, is called " The Portrait of a Lady," and introduces us to a wealthy American family living forty miles from London. Semi-philosophical small talk of the average society calibre abounds in it. * Betsy," after a ran of more than a year and a qtiarter, has been withdrawn from the Criterion stage in London, to make way for a piece called " Where is the Cat," and Mr. Lytton Sothern has joined the company at the Prince of Wales Theatre. " Annie-Mie," an English adaptation of the Dutch piece of the same name, which was x>layed by a company of Hollanders at the Imperial theatre, London, last summer, and created an immense furore, has been produced by Edgar Bruce at the Prince of Wales', and failed utterly. The repertoire of the new Opera Boufte Company which is at present delighting Melbourne, includes " La rille dv Tambour Major," " Madame Favart," and " The Princess of Trebizonde," besides Audran's Olivette," and a new comic opera by Gounod. "According to all accounts," says the New York Hour, " the husband of Dickie Lingard is a bold, bad man. His name is Dalziel, and the way he could "jump" towns with his company, and leave hotels in the lurch, was a caution. As a grand finale he lias " jumped" the company now, and left it in durance for board and minus five weeks' salary. We don't blame him so much for this last jump ; it was such a bad company." Says the San Francisco Neivs Lettei', "Mr. Rip Van Winkle McQuade got left by the Australian fjuasi-inanagers, Hiscock and Heyman. On his arrival here to take ship for Australia, he was met by a telegram stating the melancholy fact that Helios la Plata was their motto". Their purse was at his command, but 'there was nothing in it.' Ergo, Rip Van ~\Vinkle don't go to Australia, which is lucky for him, inasmuch as the Australian public would not accept old Frederic Barbarossa, the original of the part, so much is the aforesaid public wedded to the memory of Joe Jefferson. Madame Taglioni, once the famous clanseuse, and who has been, since the Franco-Prussian war, a professor of dancing in London, has quitted England, and is, it is said, about to retire into private lif e. Before her departure the Princess of Wales bade her farewell and presented her with a jewel as a recognition of the trouble she had taken in teaching the young Princesses. Madame Taglioni is now seventy-three years of age, and she has well earned her retirement.