The Sun.
London, England, 1849-12-27 00:00:00

ADELPHI THEATRE,

The new piece at the Adelphi Theatre List night
Was an extravaganza (composite and polytechnic)
entitled Frankenstein ; or, The Model Man. The

subject is derived from various sources; but Mrs.
Shelley's novel of the same name as the piece fur-
fishes the main incident. The scene opens at a Ger-
tnan Gasthaus, or Students' Inn, near the University
of Krackenjausen. A body of students are assembled
, drinking Rhein wein and Barerisches bier, and dis-
coursing of their loves and hates, as young men are
Wont to do upon such occasions. It appears that a
certain Agatha (Miss Harriett Coveney), the daugh-
ter of an adjacent baron, Thundertentrouck or Don-
nerandblitzen (Mr. C. J. Smith), has been destined
by her father as the wife of Frankenstein (Mr.
'Wright), who is senior wrangler at the university,
and a great mechanician, like Tubal Cain, though
anything but a handsome youth. Otto of Rosenberg
(Miss Woolgar), " a very nice fellow," also a student
of the aforesaid seat of learning, is in love with her,
and resolves, will ye nil ye, to make her his
bride. In the meanwhile Frankenstein is employed
Upon a model man—" The 'What is it" (Mr. Paul
Ledford), whose effigies he has finished after a fashion,
and for whom he wants only vitality. This is granted
him by Zan-1M (Mr. 0. Smith), resuscitated for the
Purpose from the opera of Der Freischritz ; and the
monster walks forth into the world a terror to his
Maker and a horror to mankind. The Baran gives a
grand fete in honour of his daughter's approaching
Marriage, whereat young Otto has promised to be,
albeit uninvited ; but it is settled that the fair Agatha
is to elope after they have " danced but one measure,
drank one cup of wine" together. The guests are
assembled; the Baron is in his glory, drunk with
delight and Liebfrauenmilch, and the masquers are
Making a merry dance, when lo and behold " The
What is it" breaks down the door, enters the ball-

room, smashes the china and glass, frightens the
females, scares away the men, and sets fire to the
castle, which burns to the ground in the twinkling of
an eye ; not, however, before a brigade of sapeurs
Pompiers, clothed in white muslin, short
Petticoats, and pink satin bodies, enter at
the tail of a little engine for the purpose of extin-
guishing the blazes. They have been sent by the water
nymph Undine (Miss E. Harding), who has taken
the young lovers under her especial protection. The
freaks of the Model Man are very amusing. Subse-
quently Frankenstein, his maker, is brought before
the Herr Baron, in his magisterial capacity, to answer
for the misdeeds of the monster ; and as he pleads his
Innocence, the Baron's daughter and her newly-wed
sPouse rush on also to beg his worship's blessing. It
teems that, after the fashion of Sir Huon of Bor-
deaux, in the epic of Oberon, the young spark has
tamed " The What is it ?" by the music of a tune-
less fife, presented to him by Undine for the occa-
tion ; and as Paul Bedford, or rather the Model
het, promises to behave unexceptionably in future,
is bound to his good behaviour, and obtains a situ-
ation. The characters are classed under three heads
" those which belong to the story in the ori-
iglnal legend ;" " those which do not exactly belong
to the story, but which, being creations of the
authors' own, they maintain they have a right to do
What they like with ;" and " those with
Which, honestly speaking, the authors have no busi
tress at all." The piece is rather smart than witty,
but it flags for want of action in some scenes. Indeed
not half as much is made of the monster as might be
trthde, if the authors only chose to exert themselves.
the scenery is excellent, especially the ball-room
scene and the " glittering termination"—a beautiful
water scene—descriked in the bills as " a picturesque
Portion of the Rhine, unknown to modern guide-
books." Much was dnoe by the actors to insure the
Fuccess of Frankenstein, in particular by the gemini
IVright and Paul Bedford. Miss Woolgar and Miss
Ellen Chaplin alto contributed their share to the
Rerieral result; hut, nevertheless, it excited no en-
thusiasm Even on the holiday audience gathered
together to witruss its representation, and must be
considerel only as a partial hit, to say the best of it.
pretty child, whose name does not appear in the
Programme, danced a pas suel with great aplomb, and
received more h.sarty applause than all the rest of the
Performers. The authors are two brothers, gentlemen
named Brough, favourably known in the burlesque-
dramatic world as the concoctors of several successful
Pieces, The Willow Copse preceded, and Mrs. Bun-
L
'l
4'7l's Spoons follow ed. The hou,e was crowded, and
the audience, though merry among themselves, were
Very orderly.

f LYCEUM THEATRE.
Pew theatrical managers have done so much to
illustrate laity legends, or adapt them to the vviahea
end feelings of the age, as Madame Vestris, and, per-
haps, still fewer dramatic writers hive drawn more
upon the mythology and nursery fictions for their
subjects as Mr. Planche. Numerous, however, as
their triumphs have been ie that respect, the mine
from whence they have gathered materials to concoct
so many extravaganzas would seem to he far from
exhausted, and we may yet hope to witness the pro-
duction of an amusing piece of this character when-
ever the accession calls for one. The wit of the
author of The Mand of Jewels—the title of the
present attraction at the Lyceum—fails before the
lavish munificence of the manageress in placing it
upon the stage ; but, nevertheless, the verse contains
sufficient point and fancy to make it palatable, and
it certainly ought to yield as much gold to the
treasury of the theatre as it, undoubtedly, adds
another gent to the pearly wreath that already
encircles the brow of the accomplished manageress.
The incidents of these entertainments, generally
speaking, bear so remarkable a similarity to
each other, that it is almost unnecessary
to do more than enumerate the characters that work
them out, but during a season of festivity it is nut
inexcusable to occupy space with the details of a
story turning upon the cross purposes of a good and
evil spirit, and, though improbable and extravagant,
serving to inculcate a sound moral truths. According
to Mr. P/e.nche's edition of the Countess D'Aneis
(Serpentine Vert), the story is briefly this—if, indeed.
it be not much like that of the "Needy linifegrinder"
—Gingerbread the Great, King of Pharitale (a
potentate vs hose corporeal representative is Mr.
Frank Matthews), and his Queen Tinsellina, with
that melancholy forgetfulness so common in all such
cases, in summoning the fairies to attend the birth or
christening of their twin daughters, Princess Bellotta
(Miss Kenworthy) and Princess Laidrometta (Miss
Julia St. George), forget that notoriously malevolent
old fairy Magutine (Miss E. Ilonner), who avenges
the slight in the ordinary course of nature by rushing
in at the festival and casting such glamour round Lai-
drometta as to make her appear odiously ugly to her pa-
rents, who very properly banish her from Court for such
a grievous offence to a lonely tower by the sea side.
Here, however, she is consoled by the fun and kind-
ness of her maid Fidelia (Madame Vestris), and by
the delicate attentions of a large specimen of the boa
constrictor species, which hisses vows of eternral
fidelity from all manner cf impossible places. Princess
Beiiotta is about to be married to Prince Prettiphello -
(Miss I. Dickenson), and Laidrometta having in vain
attempted to get an introduction to the ball, returns
to the seashore to deplore her fate. The transition
from the ball-room of the royal pavilion, filled with a
glorious company of cavaliers and ladies in sky blue
turned up with gold (in which, too, a tolerable at-
tempt was made to render the perspective complete
by introducing some very tiny children at the back
of the stage) to the lonely tower was very
well managed. A boat without any one in it
appears by the seaside; the Princess and Fidelia
embark; Magotine raises a storm at sea, which
does great credit to her creative powers, and but for
the serpent, who, in this case, turns out to be
the real sea animal, the Princess would be lost
on a reef of rocks off the Gold Coast. She and her
faithful attendant, however, are: safely landed in the
Island of Jewels, and express their satisfaction in a
very pretty duet. Here the courtiers and suite of
the master of the territory—Viscount Carbuncle,
Earl Topaz, Lord onyx, Lady Pearl, &c.—visit
them, and announce that King Emerald (an invisible-
green Prince, or rather an invisible green-prince)
claims the hand of the Princess on the understanding
that she will wed him without seeing his face ; to
which, as there is abundant proof of his being well-
to-do in the world, she consents. The King performed
by (the bills say) Herr Karl Von Voxetprmtereanihil,
is carried on in a golden litter, and sings a song, in
which he certainly does not make the most of his
voice. It is needless to say that the King is the ser-
pent lover held in durance vile by Magotine—that
the devotion of the Princess, a little impeded by her
curiosity, however, and the assistance of the Fairy
Benevolentia, restore him to his proper form, that of
an interesting young monarch, and bring about
a happy matrimonial conclusion. The success of
an extravaganza frequently depends more upon
the splendour of the dresses, the ingenuity
of the machinery, and the beauty of the scenes, but
the author should always endeavour not to destroy
the unity of glittering pictorial illusions with occa-
sional flashes of wit, and sly hits at the follies of the
hour, which in the present instance Mr. Planch‘ has
failed to do. His verse is smooth enough, it is true,
but it wants more point, less verbosity, and some-
thing like originality in the humour. Audiences
have got tired of laughing at jokes made at the
expense of the orchestra, while their pockets have
suffered too much to admit of their seeing the
force of a railway pun, or tittering even at the gib-
beting of the deposed Railway King. The dialogue
is too dull and meaningless, and had it not been for
the splendour of the "getting up" the fate of the
Island of Jewels would have been scaled. Nothing,
however, has ever surpassed the magnificence of the
scenery; from first to last it was one continued suc-
cession of gorgeous pictures—now exhibiting the
sunny landscapes of the east, anon the fresh green
sea, then stupendous mountain passes and dreary
caverns, and finally closing with a sparkling spectacle,
which language would fail to describe and the fancy
of a poet never realise. When wickedness has beers
duly punished and virtue rewarded, a vast column of
palm leaves at the hack of the stage slowly opens,
each leaf bending towards the stage, and discovers a
group of nymphs on a cushion, bearing aloft " the
crown jewels." Of what they are made we cannot
say,—what the nymphs are dressed in it would be
impossible to assert. It seemed a web of silvery
light; the jewels sparkled with more than the lustre
of diamonds. All was a blaze of the most dazzling
colour, and the curtain fell on a most enthusiastic and
astonished audience, who will readily agree
with us that the piece owes more to the
pencil of the artist than the pen of the author.
Madame Vestris and Miss St. George impersonated
the chief characters, and sang some of the songs
with which the extravaganza abounds with much
spirit and animation. The fair managress herself
was encored in a parody on Jetty Treffa's song,
" Trab, trab, trab," and well she deserved it, she did
it with such fascinating archness. Miss St. George
made her first appearance at this house, and laboured
most arduously to please her audience. Her vivacity
and youth is agreeably refreshing, and allied to the
great ability she possesses, serves well to invest her
part with absorbing interest. Miss Isabel Dickenson,
who has resumed her former position at the
Lyceum, had a slight character entrusted to
her, but the exquisite beauty of her costume,
with her commanding figure made it occasionally
attractive, alight though it was. Frank Matthews
came out with great force, dressed as a king—such
a one as you sometimes meet with in a pack of cards—
and in the last scene, where disappointment in some
currency speculation has made sad havoc of his intellect,
and he determines to draw bills for impossible sums
and on all sorts of imaginary people, he is irresistibly
droll. The house was full, and it is a safe prophecy
to predict that it will remain full till the
piece is worn out, when it is to be hoped
its place will be immediately supplied by some
of those drawing-room bUct sketches which
once made Madame so mighty at the Olympic.

THE SUN,