Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-12-09
RESTRAINT IN ACTING

!
well as the dramatic critics. call re-
/ straint'
Hammfattsky's Interpretation OF his
dinicult role was characterized by an adj
/ mirable restraint VS. read in the critique
OF the show We've been to see or that we're
going TO See Miss Swelluperino pitched
her portrayal of her highly emotional role
In satisfyingly subdued tone. Mr.. Under
| Kuvyer enacted the part of the william with
| fine realization of the effectiveness of
suppressed declamatory values. Miss so-
badd. who assumed the role Of the adven-
turess. gave a fine, almost wordless. study
OF the tremendous inward storm and stress
Of the trapped woman. and so on
And the plays are just exactly like what
the dramatic criticisms describe them to
be,
| "All of which has got me going The
life as 1t exists In Never-Never- Never land.
| but 1t doesn't get within ten million geo.
| graphical leagues OF exhibiting the game Of
! actual existence we know 1t away from
| the theater, out In the gray leaden light
| of the real world.
These folks In the modern plays, y'see.
| are too burned self-controlled and polite
ever to permit themselves to be wrought
/ up. no matter how hard they get walloped
| In the progress of their playdepicted
! reers. They take the hull thing with an air
OF extreme calm. 1t doesn't make any diff
| ference how immense catastrophe comes
| along and catches them right on the point
of the jaw, they just hit up quiet pose
| In the limelght-down stage and mutter a
| line or two of phraseology while the cur
tain slowly sinks down and obscures the
| view.
| And this sort of thing, IL you're taking
| 1T from me, Is Just about as unnatural as
| the Irish cop with the green whiskers and
| the maroon eyebrows in the variety theater
of the hot polloi.
| "'Cause why? Well, because we humans
| are not restrained In any of our emotions,
! grave or gay. When the game is coming
! our way we laugh and giggle and litter and
| dance around with all of the elemental glee
and mirthful abandon of our cave-dwelling
| forbears. And on the other hand, when
| We find ourselves In trouble. boiler and
| screech and moan and whimper and yell
| and saw the air and make all kinds of
| Internal racket over the way we're being
treated. We're human. subject to human
| emotions and passions and grouches, and
! there's nothing subdued or repressed or
| restrained about us. In all of our manifes-
tations of grief or gayety, we're just as
childish children themselves. We're
| hot-blooded, quick on the trigger, inclined
to say nasty things to get back at people
| that say nasty things to us, and were
! there with the punch the instant the other
| fellow tries to bestow punch on us.
"A while ago. for example. play
| In which two men, both in love with the
same woman, were having an argument
out in the moonlight about it. Finally one
| of the fellows decided that a right swing
| was about the thing. So he let 1t fly, and
| 1t looked like q pretty realistic stage swat
| Now, right there, in actual life there'd
| have been a two-handed mix that wouldn't
| have terminated till one or other of the
men was down on the mat taking the count.
| What happened in the play2 Why, the fell
| low that had stood for the punch just
| dropped his arms at his sides, clenched his
! teeth real tightly, SO he did, and gazed into
| the puncher's eye sure-enough viciously,
yes, he did! And then. through his clench-
| ed teeth. and in a very quiet, If slightly
| hoarse tone, he said to the puncher: am
| ya4,, Ia 70 hat
| blow and then the curtain slid down with
a thump, leaving an Impression of unnatur-
| alness in the minds of real living folks that
/ couldn't be eradicated for the remainder
! of the evening.
Take the way the average millionaire
| stage father accepts the announcement
| that his vast for-chune has been wiped out
| in the stock market. He's a merry old
! white-haired waddler, and he's standing in
| the drawing room of his palatial F1ft'
| avnoo home, talking with his wife and
| Gibsonish daughters, waiting for the dis
| tinguished company of guests to arrive for
| the ball that's to be given that evening,
while the muted music of the orchestra Is
| heard playing In an of-stage ante-room
| THE TALL lank butler comes in and hands
| the merry old white-haired waddler a tele
gram. The stage father opens 1t careless
| ~ while carrying on his little chat with
| his wife and daughter, and glances over it.
| Then his frame stiffens ever so little and
| his wife and Gibsonish daughters ask him
| what's the matter
| "'Oh nothing the old man replies, quite
| an.iably and calmly, even if his face is just
| a teenchy little bit serious, except that We
must go back to the old place in Oshkosh.
I am roo-ined, and that's all there is to
! it. The mother and daughters don't repine
| bit. They gather around the old man and
! tell him that they always did like Oshkosh
| a heap better than Moo Yawk and Noopoht
| and the Riviera, anyhow, and there isn't
/ any disturbance at all. The telegram
| If 1t announced the safe arrival in crate
| at the express office of a brace of hairless
Mexican dogs consigned to the recipient of
| the dispatch.
/ way American man and his family ac-
| cept the announcement of their financial
ruin? Because if you do you want to sing
| 1t out through megaphone placed at
| distance of only two inches from my nigh
| ear-drum. and then I'll only listen because
| I've got to. Any ordinary American mil
! lionaire who's suddenly Informed that he's
a ruined man IS going to do some clawing
around and clutching at the air and VOW
! ing vengeance against the fellers that dou-
/ ble-crossed him IN the market that'n be
heard seven furlongs through mlstral,
| and when his wife and family hear about
! it, they're going to do some paving and
| stamping thatll knock the restraint idea
nineteen times higher than Gilderoy's kite
| ever dreamed of flying.
1.-The stage young woman Jilts her young
man. who is calling upon her out In the
/ garden Maude, with his cunnip' riding
! boots and things, and who knocks the dust
| out of his corduroy riding trousers with
! his riding crop while he's waiting for her
| to show up. Yep she jilts him out and
| out, straight from the shoulder, tells him
| that she's decided that he doesn't exactly
conform to her idea OF the Higher and
| Nobler and all that sort of thing-in
| word, suggests to him that he go and get
| a reputation. What does the stage lover
| do in such circumstances? Why he fumbles
! just little bit with his mustache in a
| caustic sort of way, reminds the young
woman that they had been. che-ildren to-
! gether and that he really didn't expect 1t
| of her, honest he didn't. and then he turns
| on his heel and skiddoos. Dye think that's
| real life? Not If I've ever lived any real
| life The girl in real life who flattens a
young fellow out in that heartless, caprici-
Gus sort of a way Is going to hear little
bunch of his mind. whether she likes or
wants ii or not, thatll make her shelly ears
| Jingle every time she remembers the fancy
cracks for years to come. He's going to
come right out and tell her that he's
heap yiIed to discover that she's phony
and a bogus and, after the way she's led
him on, no better than q common or gar
den variety of cheap flirt, and when he
does turn on his heel he's going to leave
that girl as limp the top cover of my
old second reader used to be, and when he
disappears from view she's going to feel
like 10 cents worth Of refined radium
coal scales.
s.rTbe restraint thing on the stage isn't