THE STAGE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16331, 21 January 1921, Page 6

THE STAGE.

NEWS AND NOTES. (By “THE LIMELIGHT MAN.") Air L. J. Lolir, for many a touring manager in Australia and New Zealand, died at Waiwera, Auckland, on December 31. Ho was one of the best known and most liked of advance men. He retired some years ago, and took an hotel at Inverlochy, outside of Melbourne, and later came to New Zealand, and for some time was mine host at Whakatane. Mr Lohr, who was in his seventy, first year, was married to Kate Bishop, and their daughter, Marie Lohr, is one of the leading actresses in London.

Ferry the Frog, who created something of a sensation in vaudeville circles in New Zealand several years ago, has returned to Australia under engagement to Messrs Ben and John Fuller, and is playing in that firm’s pantomime “ Bluebeard ” in Sydney. Ferry the Frog will accompany the panto to New Zealand later in the season.

Tlie people who sit in front and watch a Fuller pantomime like “ Cinderella ” give little thought, perhaps, to the amount of work, money, inventiveness and labour entailed in the production of the show (says the Melbourne “ Table Talk ”). In “ Cinderella ” there is a wonderful wedding cake which is 45ft high and 40ft around the base, which is only seen for a few minutes. Then there is a back cloth measuring 36ft by 24ft, which is only seen for eight seconds, yet these two items cost many pounds, and are each raagnficent examples ot stagecraft. More than a mile of timber is used, and 290 costumes in the fifteen scenes. Borne idea of the electric lamps used to light up the show may be gained by the fact that there are just over 2000 alone in the wedding cake, and the different properties handled through the pantomime number no fewer than 320. All of the above were made by the staffs of Ben and John Fuller.

“ Though th© firm nasn’t been lavish with the * Humpty Dumpty 1 dressing, some of its effects ire very taking.” writes a lady contributor to the ” Bulletin.” “ Perhaps nothing so captures the eye as a platoon of bare-backed blondes that rises out. of the darkness to disclose brilliant serai-transparent skirts decorated with scarlet roses. And a red and black serpent glides to one of the principals’ warbling of &■ frail nigger melody. But the prevailing tone of tho girls is yellow in all its luscious gradations, from rich orange to underdone canary. Plump Beatrice Allen bursts -on the view in a grey tunic and tights with vehement g v cen boots. Also she is further adorned in pink, white, pale saffron and black iet, and easily feels every corner of her garments. Edith Dray son is ;nosi«$ r confined to submarine tints, and Maggie Dickinson’s brightest frock is a roomy panniered skirt in pink with white fur edging, from which she sprouts timidly in an immaterial bodice. Sidney Culver, formerly Yates, leaps about as an embarrassed grasshopper, and, barring a. massive final confection wherein a liat-bow like a windmill, reminds ono in its colour of early cherries. Dame Albert Le Fro seems responsible for the shortage of cornsacks.”

For boxes at Mr George Robey’s concert at the London Coliseum on Sunday, November 7, in aid of the children of printers who fell in the war, Mr William de Selincourt and Sir 'William Paterson each paid £TCOO. This constitutes a record in the history of the stage.

Drury Lane. London, for the first time in many years was without a Ohristmas pantomime last year, tho great success of “ Tlie Garden of Allah ” making it undesirable to move the play elsewhere. As a consequence Covent Garden, another of the historic London theatres, produces a pantomime for the first time m thirty years. Tho London “ .Era, ’ in the latest issue to hand by tho English mail, reported the enormous success of “ The Maid of the Mountains ” in Canada. The “ Era ” mentioned that at Montreal, this phenomenal musical play drew nearly £12,000 in two weeks, whilst at Toronto tho takings in one week amounted to over £BOOO- These records had never been exceeded in the cities mentioned.

Lady Tree mentions in the new life of her husband, Sir Beerbolim Tree* that on ono occasion Gladstone, going behind the scenes, expressed some curiosity as to the politics of actors. <£ Conservative on *he whole,” explained th© actor, and, noticing a shad© of disappointment on the statesman’s face, he hastily added, “ But th© scene-shifters are Radical, almost to a

During her recent Lour in the East, Miss “Marie Tempest visited a Siamese theatre at I’enang, where a performance was given in her. honour. “ I went ‘ behind,’ ” she said, in relating her experience, “ and what struck mo most was the extraordinarv orderliness! of everything. Two men were engaged solely on the work of folding up and putting away the clothes as tlie actors and actresses came off the stage—wonderful clothes they were, too, of exquisite silk, embroidered with amazingly beautiful patterns. Everv article, of attire had its own place, The ‘ making up ’ _ of performers of both sexes was carried on practically in the open, the men on one side of the stage, the wo* men on the other. Tlie actors literally paint their faces with brushes. When they hoard that 1 was on the stage they crowded round and showed mo everything.”

P rob a My for the first time in dramatic history a Juliet of sixteen and a Mercutio of seventy-four met in the same cast. Yet this happened recently in London, when that ripe Shakespearean actor and scholar. Mr Charles Fry, produced “ Romeo and Juliet ” before a crowded and intensely appreciative audience. The girl-J'.iliet, Miss Phillis Thomas -although only two years older than Juliet herself, according to the Nurse’s reckoning—is an undoubted “ find ” (says a London critic). It cannot be pretended that she is yet so equipped as to be able to solve completely the eternal paradox of Juliet’s blended, youth, intelligence, will, and passion. None the less, it was a remarkable performance. Miss Thomas i-; a handsome brunette, and, although there were little points and accents missed here and there, her clear, fearless, deep-voiced, well trained speech, genuine power and temperament, and evidently fin© and strong personality bespoke very much hope for her future career. Her scene with Oapulet was particularly good. Definite the fact that he has already Hidden m 3 three-score-and-teu good-hve. Mr diaries Fry himself played Mercutio, and mad© one of the lightest, liveliest, raciest, and most inspiriting Mercutios imaginable- Ho wore his feathered velvet cap and his doublet and hose with a cheerier jaunt than most youngsters a third his age. Victoria Cross, the author of “Five Nights ” and fifteen other n6vels of a similar type, has (writes the correspondent- of the Melbourne “ Age ”) dramatised every one of her books, and as she has almost as high an opinion of her work as a dramatist, as she has of her novels, she announced, “ I intend to put all of these plays on the stage, one after another, as a sort of repertory.” But the reception given lo tlie first of these adaptations for the stage, “ The Greater Law,” will probably convince her that it is even easier to lose money on theatrical productions than to make it out ol novels. “ The Greater Law.” which was produced at a London suburban theatre,

in order to demonstrate that it could not fail to be a great success in the West End, has been condemned by the dramatic critics of the Jyondon newspapers, as the worst play that has been produced in London for many years. “It tells a preposterous story, in preposterous language, about most preposterous people, states tho “ Daily Telegraph. ” Never for one moment does it make the supreme blunder of becoming m tho feast degree like life. Nevei: for an instant, can you, by any knowledge of human nature, divine what any of tho characters -will do nexki” Tho actors are to be pitied, for they hare to take the preposterous play seriouslj’: but the audience indulges in shrieks of laughter at the unconscious humor displayed by the author. 35%’en the passionate love making of the hero and heroine, which is such a popular feature of Victoria Cross’s novels, provokes roars of laughter, because of the way in which banalities are mixed with the exalted expression of the loftiest sentiments.

An English playwright, who has had Borne experience of the ways of West End theatrical managers, writes anonymously in the “Morning Post” concerning the reasons managers sometimes give for rejecting plays submitted to them. Usually they giro no reasons, but when they do the playwright- has an opportunity of realising that theatrical managers, who cater for a fickle public, are extremely bad judges of the merits of a play. The manager’s aim is to please the public, but no one can anticipate the judgment of the fickle public. Some playwrights, who rose to great popularity a few years back, now find it impossible to get a theatrical manager to accept a play from their., because the public have grown tired of their work. Managers, instead of backing their own judgment in plays, attempt to discover the secret by which the fickle public arrives at a favourable verdict ; but their research, according to the correspondent of the “Morning Post,” only leads the managers to believe in omens and superstitions ; in mascots, in lucky and unluckv numbers. “No play stands a ghost of a. chance in London to-day which is not written round a woman,” said one manager. “ Women are only interested in' women : men are only interested in women. Unless your play is all about a woman it doesn’t stand an earthly chance.” Another manager rejected a play because the first act took place in a drawing room and tho last in a garret. ‘ ; If you must have a garret—and personally I see no reason why you should have one—let it be in your first act, and have the drawing-room in the last. Make the last act comfortable and cheerful. You must always let the audience leave the theatre in a comfortable and cheerful mood. Of course, this will mean rewriting your play, but it would never do as it stands.” Another manager scorns any play in which a woman is left alone on the stage. “ Never do it., my boy,” he said : “ Women can’t carry across the footlights; they haven’t the personality, the voice. You must always have a man with them. The Elizabethans, you know, old chap, never had a woman on at all. Didn’t you know that?”

DRAMA ON A BARGE, PRANCE’S LUXURIOUS BOAT THEATRE. On the canals which intersect France, branching out from Paris in all directions, you will encounter, if you are lucky, a gorgeous boat painted in white and silver, the white and silver being reflected in. the greenish, waters (writes the Paris correspondent of “ Jolm o’ London’s Weekly ”). Tt is a bateautheatre. It wanders slowly along from Tours to Strasbourg, and wherever it stops French folk who have few entertainments crowd into the Fulminant to see a dramatic representation. 1 wonder if there is any other travelling theatre of this kind. The old iit-up shows which move around in England from village to village have to find a suitable hall. The company of the Fulminant carry their hall about with them. The transportation even of the small amount of scenery which ordinary perambulating players need presents jiroblems which the Fulminant has solved. It is an agreeable life to move leisurely by canal and river, to stop where one pleases, to play to a crowded house in a salle which is always ready, to give’ pleasure to a whole community and profit to oneself. VELVET SEATS. The room where the performances take place is spacious enough. Tt holds 500 persons, and every one of the fauteuils covered in red velvet- in this blue and gold decorated hall is occupied whenever the floating theatre casts anchor in an out-of-the-way town. Certainly, anybody who knows the tiny dimensions of many typical Paris theatres, where one sits in discomfort looking upon a microscopic stage, will agree that the Fulminant is much better equipped than are nine out of ten of any but the bigger theatres of the Fre nob cap ita 1. The troop of actors and actresses are their own mariners. There is much work to be* done on board anv kind of? boat, as all who have ever helped to sail a yacht will agree. But they set to work with a will. They all lend a hand. They scrub the decks and they make the reparations which are constantly called for. “THUS EVENING ON THE CANAL.” What do they not do? They go out shopping—and is there anything so delightful as to shop always in strange towns? They prepare their play-bills and announce their advent. The mere business of acting is only an incident in this varied life. It is not, of course, necessary to advertise much. Their coming is quickly known, and a few placards which set forth that “ this evening on the canal ” such and such a comedy will be given such as “ Le Gamin de Paris ” —are suffieent to bring the countryside flocking to the gangways. Generally the performance is divided into three parts. The übiquitous film is shown. It can hardly be ruled out, though one is glad that the bateautheatre is not altogether converted into a. bateau-cinema. Then there is a short concert; a few songs; and the traditional three knocks on the stage are heard, the curtain goes up, and a piece usually of a light character, is presented.

THE PLAY IS THE THING. It would be neither desirable nor fair for me to make any remarks about tho acting. What matter whether it bo good or bad, so long as it is real acting m a real play? It would be to miss the point entirely even to praise the plav-ers—-except for being players on a boat which conies to the doors of lonely milages. It is permissible in Paris or in -Loudon to criticise, to inquire whether this interpretation is happy and whether that method of enunciation is to bo commended. But here on tho boat the play’s the thing, and if the players have learned sufficiently their business, in the intervals of scrubbing and fishing and marketing, to convey a storv, to suggest a character, to bring ente'rl tainrrrent to the audience, then there is no need for more. it should be observed, however, that there are no stars in this companv. They do not try to outshine each other. They all take their share of hard and easy work on the stage, just as they have taken their share of hard and easy work in cleaning and steering. The orchestra consists of a pianist, who will presently appear on the boards ; and her husband, who slips in front to play the flute from time to time. During tho entr’acte the buffet can be visited-—for there is on deck a little cafe. - They have a iiazy kind of itinerary. Their present tour of France will take two years. In 1922 they expect to arrive at Strasbourg.