Evening star., 1933-01-17

square; and you see sofas. and feet
up en- them, and people bouncing
about on them. and you hear about
love and a sudden and pleasantly
violent remark about HAY" (Which
may not be repeated1, and you are
privileged to watch Lynn Fontanne
at her absolute lovelieSt, tossing
back and forth between leopard
frocked Alfred Lunt and Mr.. Cow
ard himself-whose trousers, in
c.dentally, do not fit him very
well. And you are charmed by
some curiously satifying philoso-
ply which is full of those things
you have always dreamed about
and hoped about and never
been able to speak for yourself.
And you are left with the feeling
that love, after all. is very simple
affair and that Mr.. Coward has
smoothed it out quite nicely for you.
All OF which pleased the largest
and most important audience that
the National has seen in current
years At the end CT the play, Mr..
Coward, after bonabardment of
curtain calls, stood hand in hand
with Mr.. Lunt and Miss Fontanne
and thanked the audience for its
generous support of his little party
which party, by the way, may be
said to be one of the funniest and
one Of the rcughest ever planned
on that stage.
design for Living" finds Mr..
Coward conversing a little more with
the stars than he did in Private
Lives" and yet coming down to earth
now and again with fierce and un-
expected delight. His theory that
Miss Fontanne, who is "the essence
of love among the artists" should
be a genial creature, free from the
marriage bond and from becoming
too fond Of any one person for any
too great length of time. gives him
an opportunity to thrash out this
business of hving-and his design"
Is a pleasant pattern of give and
take-with take winning by length.
So in the end of what an impor-
tant lady in last nights audience
pronounced 'the expert comedy"
you are laughing with glee over the
pleasantly unconventional fact that
Miss Fontanne has tossed her boring
husband out of the window mot
literally. and that she is rocking
back and forth on sofa locked in
the arms of two gentlemen who have
loved her both wisely and well in the
past-and who have promised to do
so again in the future.
In its present version. which is
said not to have been shortened by
more than two or three paragraphs
from the original text. there are
moments when the clock stands,
perhaps. comparatively too still.
Moments when YOU feel that the
snail has crept into some of the dia-
logue. Aud suggestion that the
drinking-bout scene is mite too
long. But the third act is the peer
Of ell gay and not too whimsical
third acts. with Mr. Coward and Mr..
Lunt appearing in red and blue
pajamas. and two outsiders, who
converse about the Colony and
Yale, made to appear like a couple
Of misplaced lambs going TO slaueh-
ter
The fact that the play is about
artists and art isn't particularly i'm
portant. 1t could be about any
thing or anybody, and it would still
pe amusing.
The acting of Miss Fontanne and
Mr. Lunt and Mr.. Coward, which is
a kind Of mental and spiritual and
physical roughhouse, is so easy, SO
natural and SO what they always
have been when they are at their
bast, that 1t is hard to treat them
as separate and distinct entities Mr.
Iunt is perhaps the most perfectly
adjusted at the moment: Miss Fon-
tame is the handSomest-her role
has not been etched as clearly as
the others, or perhaps momentarily
her vision OF 1t Is not quite as clear
as the others-and Mr.. CoWard's
telephone and reporter scenes are
!, two highlights which he has wisely
written for himself and which are
, worth their weight in gold
OF the others, Campbell Gullan,
as the brief husband, has nice
bit which he accomplishes with
gusto. but which seems somehow a
far, far cry from what it ought to
be. and Gladys Henson has a juicy
moment tripping over the telephone
wire. Further participants include
Ethel Borden, in a nice green dress
and the years best wave; Phyllis
Cohnard whose expression during
one of the wit" scenes is JOY. and
Alan Campbell-well cast
It is, however, the lusty three who
carry this play to the skies. II it
IS a minute too wordy and minute
too long, they make you forget it.
If Mr.. Coward becomes trifie
self conscious during some of his
freighter ramblings, he makes you