Omaha daily bee., 1899-09-24

for any one with the least experience in
dramatic affairs to witness a single re-
hearsal without recognizing its utter worth
l%essness, in it's present form. either as
drama or for any purpose Of entertainment
Nothing quite so extraordinary in the way
Of p%ortentious futility has been seen on the
local stage within recent memory. Every
act Is heavy with dullness and crammed
with absurdity. Professedly the piece is
what is called a liberal adaptation of the
novel of the same name, and the subject Of
1t is one OF the innumerable political con-
spiracies of which the modern history of
Italy largely consists. The hero is the IL
legitimate son of a priest, who abjures re-
ligion on the discovery OF his parentage,
and the imagined perfdy Of his lady love,
and after years of exile in South America,
where he undergoes frightful hardships, re-
turns to Italy in a badly crippled condition,
to head a revolution, perform prodigies of
valor, and excite universal admiration by
his resourcefulness, his eloquence, his Gym
icism, his tender-heartedness, his stoicism
and other superlative and contradictory
qualifications. In the end, after q variety Of
emotional but not altogether comprehen-
sible passages with his wicked parent-now
a cardinal, possessed of dictatorial powers
and the gift Of ubiquity-and his betrothed,
who Is as faithful as she is obtuse, he is
captured and shot, a catastrophe which
would have saved much unnecessary trouble
If 1t had occurred earlier in the proceed
ings.
"All this may not be very clear, but 1t is
as lucid as the play, which, from first to last,
is a mass of bewildering nonsense. Con-
cealed in it somewhere there Is supposed to
be something in the nature OF an assault
| imam ra1iuinn nv Tho oh,,rnh I,N a At, 80
lists, it is too vague, irrelevant and puerlle
to cause disquiet or resentment on the part
Of anybody. There Is, indeed, no discerni-
BILE motive in the whole affair, although Mr..
Stuart Robson must have had one In as
Stunning the part OF the hero, for which he
Is, artistically and constitutionally, utterly
untitled. 1t would be more than uncivil-it
would be cruel, and it certainly would be
usoless-to discuss his performance in de-
tail. 1t is sufficient to say that the char
acter, IL licked into some sort of practicable
shape, would test the capacity of a strong,
emotional and romantic actor, which, for
obvious reasons, he is not, and never can be.
His failure was absolute, but was due quite
as much to the insuperable obstacles put in
his way by nature as to lack of intelligence.
1t is only fair to add that Mrs. Voynich
the author of the original novel, has dis
avowed all connection with or responsibility
for the piece, which she contemptuously and
righteously dubs an illiterate melodrama."
The Herald treated it as follows: 1.-The
Gadfy' assumes to be a liberal adaptation
of Mrs. Voynich's novel. In point of fact it
bears the same relation to the novel that a
homeopathic Doctors prescription of arsenic
or strychnine bears to the original poison.
1t dilutes the dose to a point where the
49,. t. 49, ..At
nich's novel is a vigorous but venomous
diatribe against the Catholic church. Mr..
Roses adaptation is a concession to the
Catholic, and, indeed, to the Christian, ele-
ment in the audience. BY a backward pro-
cess it converts acetose into saccharine mat
ter"
And the Tribune thus: "The piece is an
old-fashioned melodrama, very clumsily put
together, written in florid English and need
lessly weighted with a jargon of false ethics
and rlbald rhetoric. Dark intimations had
been given that this play would give deep
offense to the church and would cause the
ecclesiastical establishment to tremble, but
in fact It's chief effect was to cause a good
natured grin. Once in a while the stage
kindly vouchsafes this sort Of frosty joy
a piece and a performance so seriously in
tended and SO pretentiously bad that they
become comic. The Gadhy' is a thing of this
kind and for an old cynic nothing could be
more delicious in this peculiar vein"
Francis Wilson Jared no better than Mr..
Robson, as will be seen by some of the fol-
lowing criticisms. The Herald says:
THE Knickerbocker theater opened for
the season with Francis Wilson's Production
Of 'Cyrano de Bergerac' in comic opera
form. Stuart Reed has made the book,
Harry B. Smith has supplied the lyrics and
the score is by Victor Herbert. There were
the usual frst-night encores (would they
might cease to be considered the thing!),
and after the second act Mr.. Wilson was
called out and made a speech. But the
opera was not received with the same
hearty favor which has been melted out to
some of Mr.. Wilson'S past productions, and
the reason is not far to seek.
There was just one way 10 make a sue
cessful work for a musical comedian out Of
Rostand's famous play, and that was to ex-
aggerate Cyrano's eccentricities and make
the opera a burlesque, or at least a semi
burlesque throughout. But as it stands it
verges on burqesque in spots, and then come
serious lines and episodes, which, though
taken out of the play, seem for their sur
roundings only like echoes of it.
The Post says: although a large and
friendly audience gathered to listen to the
first performance of the new operetta, 'Cyr-
ano de Bergerac,' they could get up but lit
tie enthusiasm and the piece fell somewhat
flat. Mr.. Victor Herbert has written some
pleasing music which is catchy in places,
and the solos may be appreciated when they
are sung as they were not on this occasion.
Mr.. Francis Wilson has made a mistake in
imagining that his forte is in serious act
ing. The public have learned to regard him
as a fun-maker, and he seems out of his
proper element when he essays long poetic
reeitations and love ballads. They much
prefer him in his accustomed whimsicalities
for which the writer of the book has not
afforded him many opportunities"
The Tribune says: 'After this it will moi
surprise any one familiar with the taste AND
intelligence of New York operetta audiences
to hear that the people who greeted the
new work in friendly fashion, because they
have long admired Mr.. Wilson and could moi
escape the fascination of Mr.. Herbert's mu.
sic, seemed a good deal puzzled by the en-.
tertainment set before them. Mr.. Wilson
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