The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1905-02-05


Indian is the head man in "Strong-
heart" and he is the factor in two
separate StorieS-One presenting him as
an exponent of roughed civilization,
by which l mean football with his fell
low collegians in the east, and the
other as an exponent of smoothed bar
barism, by which / mean redemptory
work for his@tribe in the west. While
engaged in the game of the educated
he cries brutally kill 'emi" and while
engrossed in the cause Of the un-
tutored he eXclaims ethically: They
must be SdVedi' Thus SOangatha,
iescriptively nicknamed Strongheart,
Sorn to the chieftaincy of the Sioux,
5 gentle in his savagery and savage in
MS gentiitty. But I doubt if those
eontrarieties in the young Indian were
N the mind of his creator, William c.
DeMille, or of his representative, Rob
elt Edeson. BY the way. as they stood
side by side to thank the audience for
liking their work they looked very
much like their fathers, Henry c. De-
Mile and George R. Edeson. The act
.ng of Bob, however, is sentimental
while that Of his paternal George
was humorous But the present De-
Mile. whose first play is here brought
out, follows the methods of that De-
Mile who collabOrated with David Be
lasco. Or IL is more correct to say
5hat he practices some of the early
SeiaSc3n devices of theatric effect,
such as to have some students sing
Jolly college songs off stage while the
Zero and the heroine canoodle in a
dark room with light from a fireplace
-aping on them. In this instance the
hlumined faces are red and white in
contrast. with black and yellow hair
o make further variety in the color
scheme and q glow of amber from the
CRATE 10 blend the bues. Is it any
wonder that the siivery maiden goes
color blind and wants TO marry the
-oppery wooer?
But. the racial problem is not pro-
pounded until the middle of the dra-
ma. The first half is devoted alto
gether to football Strongheart is on
the Columbia team, to be sure, but
, ais being an Indian doesn't matter,
and he Is thrown off between the
halves of game, without any refer
ence to his color, because falsely aC-
cused of selling his sides code of sig
nails to the other. He have had late
ly football in comedy and farce, eX-
traVaganza and burlesque. and here
VIC get il in serious drama The first
act shows the Columbia team in the
final stage of training, and the second
at the game-which, of course, isn't
played in our sight We hear the eX-
citement of those who are supposed
to see it. but our own view is Imagi-
strongheart. He has been retired
by the captain as a traitor, and an
other unwilling idler is a chap who
has been injured Both are in
frenzy of grief at being out of the
fight, an account of which is given
by one, as he stands in the doorway,
TO the other, as he lies on the floor.
This is as graphic as DeMille's clear
writing and Blossoms vivid speaking
can render II, in the fashion OF Lady
Gay Spanker's foxchase speech in
London Assurance kind of speech
which actors dote oR-and Strengthens
uses such ejaCulatory profanity as
Lady Gay, although belonging TO a
smart set of her time, wouldn't have
dared use before polite hearers. Co
lumbia wins, but over what college
We are not told, and the football por-
ton of the drama ends there.
And the racial drama begins. It's
question is whether a white girl shall
go into half-breeding wedlock with the
red man. He makes his plea Of love
with an ardent flueIacy uncommon in an
Indian. and Ihen.- wiki a return to na-
tive StOieism, waits calmly over night
for the decision. The maiden's family
declares it would be a mesallianCe
which she shall not make. but she be-
tTOthS herself nevertheless. How viii
audiences feel a bout it? think they
will stand by the lovers. Blossoms In
dian is robustly red, Perdita Vests
white girl is a slim stemmed, delicate
petaled lily of a creature; so that the
match has the mismated aspect of
OtheliO'S with Desdem ma. Still. when
was Indian ancestry ever deemed dis
graceful. or even undesirable? And,
indeed, it isn't a problem of social caste
which De Mile presents. Instead il is
one of personal love against public
duty. StronSheert has been educated
at the expense of his people, to uplift
whom is the chosen mission OF his HE
Now comes q messenger from them to
tell him his father is dead and to sum-
mon him TO the chiettaincy. Inc M
possibility of taking a bride from.
mansion to a tepee is evident. Shall he
lovingly and selfishly stay with her?
Shall he dutifully and self sacrificingly
SO back to his tribe alone2 He breaks
his heart and keeps his honor whole
Clyde Fitch amazes us with THE
Woman in the Case" The woman and
the case are not. such as he has set
forth i'm any of his many plays Of New
York life, but are taken from Theodore
Kremer's kind of fiction. The hero is
falsely accused of numbering his dear
est friend and yerked from his decora-
tive home to the dolorous Tombs. His
young wife surmises that a wicked SOU
brette would tell the truth about the
death, which really was one of suicide,
il she could be tricked out of her reti-
cence. To that end the wife assumes
the manners of the wanton. mixes with
a set of social outcasts, and during the
intensely melodramatic third act of the
play figures as the congenial hostess "a
J a carousal in her own apartments. This
is the kremer portion of the F1tcd
piece, and il is so goO6-thdt is to say,
so good commercially-that it may
bring more money to the author than
did his last previous FIVE compositions
combined. The telling episode comes
after the amateur siren has got rid
OF all her midnight supper guests except
| "the woman in the case" The one pre-
| tends to be tipsy. the other really Is.
and they face each other across the ia
BILE. A bottle of wine is between them !;
so is the secret which the sOubrette
has kept and the wife has schemed TO
get. The good woman befOgS the bad
woman with smoke and drink. plays
upon her vanity and vengeful hatred,
appeals to her maudlin sentimentality,
and finally misleadS her into a drunk
en- yet complete narrative of the sup
| posedly murdered man killing himself
| in her room. Then with a ugerish cry
Blanche Walsh. as the wife. leaps upon
Dorothy Dorr, as the Soubrette, chokes
J her half to death, and filings her limp
| body so violently against piano that
the bump drops her to the floor in a
| senselesS heap.
| Blanche Walsh makes her appeal to
audiences that. in the phrase of the
| stage, are somewhere between Broad
way and the Bowery. and play
could hit that public harder than this
enc by Fitch. Probably you are ia
4, TT~,l- 4 ~,c