Evening star., 1934-07-15


canvas ice cakes we're hustled away In
main sight on the backs OF stage
hands and slowed against nearby
trees. once Uncle Tom himself was
seen interestedly watching the prog
ress of one of the earlier scenes from
the edge of the crowd. and now and
then those out in front caught sight
of some hurried actor in sleeveless
undershirt pulling on an old-tashioned
frock coat and choker tie and "dickey
or giving the last touch TO Simon Le-
pree's slouch hat. with the hat touch
ed I'D with one hand while a mirror
was held In the other. 1t was very
cheerful and quaint. and the crowd
liked it.
The sets for the Central Park pro-
duction we're those designed by Cleon
Throckmorton and used in the recent
revival Of the old classic by the Play
ers. when Otis Skinner played Uncle
Tom and Fay Banter appeared as
Topsy. And the performance itself
was professional and first class IN
every way. The only trouble-and, II
must be confessed, rather big trouble
was seeing and hearing. The seats
were all on the fiat, without the usual
ascent. and those halfway back in
the crowd or farther couldn't see much
of anything of the first part Of Elias
flight, which took place on the ground
in front of the stage itself, and in
spite of the amplifiers, the sound of
the actors voices was largely lost in
the open air. But, after all, every
thing was free, and a show is a show,
even'when you can't see it all, and al
most ANYTHING is welcome on hot
Manhattan night.
There are to be four of these stages
on wheels, eventually, and regular pro-
grams of performances in all the
greater city's boroughs. For the pres
ent, only Manhattan is looked after,
and there are to be shows every Non
day evening on the Central Park Mall.
Mothers come with their babies.
Tenement-house dwellers of all sorts,
types and races mix with smoother spec
tators out for bit of Summer might
stunning; patrolmen, their new
blue shirts, without coats. try to keep
people down In 'front.': there are Ice
cream cones and soft drinks-in short,
a regulation New York Summer-night
crowd, good natured and easily
amused. Bloodhounds are about the
hardest part of the program to come
by. Who has bloodhounds. anyway.
in New York? But there were what
appeared to be beagles in the Central
Park show, and either they or some
amiably disposed CANNES of other
species provided sufficiently realistic
baying.
1.-THE DRUNKARD; OR, THE
FALLEN SAVED" an ancient
melodrama, revived with free-beer ac-
compartment something like five
months ago in a little converted
church in East Fifty-flfth street, cele-
brated its 125th performance last
; week.
Those back Of this amusing enter
prise hit on the astounding idea
nothing short of stroke of genius in
New York-of giving, or seeming to
give, something for nothing You pay,
that is to say. s1.65 for a seat at a
ldDAC AOl AOdAg dAld uAtCi hAAhb
thing Is free. The play itself, orig
inally produced by p. T. Barnum at
his American Museum in 1843. begins
at the usual time, and proceeds like
any other play, but for the fact that
the actors rather frankly kid" the
ancient melodrama. (This usually
spoils such revivals, but the whole
show, the audiences part in it in
cIuded, is so informal and frankly
jocular that it somehow doesn't have
that result in this case.)
AS soon as you are seated an agree
able young lady brings you beer and
pretzels, and beer and pretzels keep
on coming as fast as they disappear.
After the play is finished, round about
1890, sandwiches and coffee arrive,
and the crowd joins in singing Down
by the Old Mill Stream, "A Bird in
Gilded Cage" Sidewalks Of New
York" and such like old ballads. The
residence neighborhood in which the
little hall is located, its unpretentlous-
ness and lack of shine, the shrewd
good taste of those back of the
scheme, combine to attract civilized
audience and to throw over the whole
entertainment an air of the amiable
amateur. The barmaidS, who really
must be getting quite professional by