DRAMA AND THE WAR.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1307, 13 May 1915, Page 37

DRAMA AND THE WAR.

For a year or so after the war, or so it seems to me, (writes David Belasco, American playwright and producer,. in “Green Book”), our drama will have an historical trend. Just now the public wants to be entertained. But for a year or so following the war, we must expect to see the drama unravel the thousand and one war-time incidents.

In other words, we must “talk over” the war for a year or so; there will be hundreds, perhaps thousands, of books written on this subject; innumerable articles will appear in the magazines; letters to friends and relations will pour in from soldiers; then will come personal reminiscences, and because of their influence on the public mind, the war-drama is sure to follow.

Belgium and its heroes will probably prove the basis of a number of plays. Romance will flourish in Flanders. But if all the dramatists in the world wrote military plays, they could not construct a drama io reveal the greatness and horror of this war. The dramatist must content himself with incidents, sidelights and bits of stray narrative. After a year or so, we are sure to have a number of peaceful, restful plays, true to the life around us, teach ng us happiness and the glory of living. In other words, we shall go to the theatre to find the quiet after the storm. The air must be cleared; and the public will seek plays reflecting the temper of the times.

Robert Parker, the celebrated baritone now touring Australia, scored one of the greatest successes of his career in one of the first presentations 'of Wagner’s “Parsifal” in English.’ The artist, who commenced his career in America, began his operatic experience as an ambitious but minor member of Henry Savage’s Grand Opera Company, touring the principal cities of the United States. In “Parsifal” Mr. Parker was practically condemned to obscurity in the role of Titurel, which is entirely sung off stage. Determined to be ready for any emergency, however, the singer secretly and energetically made himself proficient in the character of Gurnemanz, which is the principal baritone part in the opera. One night it happened in Philadelphia that Putnam Griswold, the Gurnemanz of the company, fell ill, and in a frenzied search for a substitute aligh'.ed on Parker, who modestly promised to do his best. His success amazed the artist himself. and when the manager wired a brief message to the impresario, reading, “Parker great,” Henry Savage immediately booked the rising youngartist as principal baritone on a three years’ engagement.

One of the Australian crtics said that “High Jinks” might have been as aptly called by the title of “High Speed.” This was in reference to the remarkable swiftness of the action all through, the rapidity of the work done by both the chorus and the principals, and the liveliness of the music, which carries the lot along with it in a hurried rush of melody. There are no waits or pauses that slow up the pace. It is express speed all through.