Evening star., 1925-01-11
Unprecedented Demand for
Spades IN the Playhouse.
By Phi1ander Johnson.

Overheard as the audience filed
out into the snow sparkling night:
They certainly called spade a
spade"
They did no such thing. l never
heard anything SO polite as a spade
mentioned during the entire per-
formance."
What in the Avery Hopwood is
the theater coming to?"
How the Gene O'Neill should I
know"
A strange question arises in the
quest of entertainment. Are we an
audience, or are we a vice squad?
Do we conceal betimeS a salacious
inquisitiveness under the cloak of
moral obligation to investigate?
That metaphor of calling a spade
spade has been tested to the utmost
in stage dialogue. A few pages from
the thesaurus of blackguard
supply in a succession of synonyms
all the needful phra aseology to fill the
places anciently held by facile repair
tee or poetic fancy Critics have
complained that Sheridan's plays
were unnatural because they main
tanned a flow of conversational wit
which would be utterly impossible
even in the most intellectual circles.
Sheridan, however, has managed to
survive, owing possibly to his ac-
curacy in making his wit invariably
harmonic with the mental proc
esses of the role expressing it.
If to be witty is fault (and many
persons who regard ideas only as
implements of salesmanship and
words as weapons of propaganda
are inclined so to account it) the
realiSts of the American drama have
labored we'll to overcome it. There
are no palliative circumlocutions
these must be confined to print in
the voluminouS discussions which
constitute a large and constantly
growing percentage of the enter
tainment pertaining to the theater.
And even the comment which i'm
plies the obligation of equipoise re-
fleets the literary influence of the
footlights, betraying even an hon
ored editorial pen, from time to time,
into an effort to outdo the hack
driver and the stevedore vocabulary
that has been drilled across the foot
lights into his at first reluctant and
sensitive ear Good, old verse, that,
Vice is a monster of such horrid
mien!' etc.
X x X
The spade is uplifted as the en-
blem of the playhouse. Love themes
are scantily appreciated. The pur-
suit OF money is relegated to the un-
derworld. There Is little or no good,
honest fighting. We look neither
upward nor about US. We delve.
Hearts, diamonds and clubs are ig-
nored. Everybody is drawing for
spade.
The impetus to this deluge of bill
1ingsgate is said to have been given
by the New York success, Rain"
1t never rains but it pours.
Protest in terms of violence is of
no avail unless, of course, you hap
pen yourself to be an inveterate
spade fancier The more the city
fathers in various cities arrested
Olga Nethersole for impersonating
Daudet's Sappho the more precious
standing room in the theaters play
ing her show became. 1t is no longer
apart of the game to use the rapier
of clever fancy. We submit humbly
to the bludgeon, asking credit only
for the assumption that our hearts
are still in the right place.
X x X
The week that closes is consistent
in its revelation of disrespect for
the ordinary decencies of expression.
The impression is cubistic. Sugges-
tions of exquisite design tumble
through beautiful modulations of
coloring; bandy-legged OATS and
statueSque women are glimpsed
through a chaos of angular common
places; an old soldier mingles the
speech of sublime pathos with dod-
dering blasphemy; romping girl
chants to an uncertain tune string
of coarse verses, not clever enough
even to imply the intent of inuendo;
IN a spasm of decadent hilarity, a
staring, grimacing dullwit sings an
impassioned love song to gold FISH.
Here and there are turns of irresis-
tible humor; now and then we catch
a gleam of genuine satire; political
burlesque speedily resolves itself
into an ignortant incoherency; gems
of smartness are mingled with the
muck and gravel of the highway.
And o. you pass through the dooE