Evening star., 1934-05-20

THE Milky Way" Is all ABOUT q
pacifist prizefighter (Hugh OCon-
nelD, who, at heart milkman, en-
braces fisticuffs under the direction
of a resourceful manager Neo Don
nelly). Mr.. O'Connell Is blandly
clownish. Mr.. Donnelly Is vigorously
likewise, and between them and the
usual four romance a lively
comic strip is manufactured. As one
who depends upon drama-criticism
and has been no little benefited by it,
/ excuse 1t for this unimportant
stumble. The best Of us are offguard
sometimes, and it may be that the
best Of us now Is.
IT WAS Owen Glendower's boast in
Henry w" that he could call
spirits from the vastly deep. so can
/, or so can any other man." retorted
Percy Hotspur, but will they come
when you do call them?" In II, My
self" Miss Adelyn Bushnell, the au-
thor, issues a subpoena for couple
of ghosts, and they come. Their ar
rival evidently embarrasses Miss
Bushnell, for she seems not to know
exactly what to do with them after
they get here. One of them, q semi
suicidal failure in life. stalks awk-
wardly in death through crowd OF
moron mourners and morticians at MS
own funeral. The other, wrath
from the A. e. F.. whittles lugubrious-
ly on a stick of wood, making cryptic
comments about the celestial militia.
Both are carcaSses rather than shades,
and their play is morgue.
Shall I go on, hanging mournful
epitaphs on the monument Of a sea-
son that has led fairly happy and
successful existence? No; shall say
nothing about the strong A. E. Mat
thews and his feeble These Two,
and be similarly silent concerning the
charmful Miss Queenie Smith and her
dishwasher Every Thursday" I may,
nevertheless, put in what is known as
a good word for Miss Dawn Powell's
Jig Saw" as it is presented by the
Theater Guild, with all Of Philip
Moeller's skill in gliding surfaces. A
play about the loose life of New York S
insect voluptuaries, it crackles with
wicked wit and satire and allows the
hitherto tirnid Ernest Truck at last
to be a real boss. 1t is an urban en-
tertainment, rounding out the Gulld's S
comprehensive program OF fine plays.
Mary of Scotland" popular show
c'Ah, Wilderness!") fiery propaganda
C'They Shall Not Die"D, and perhaps
other items that for the moment neg
lect my memory.
THE editors Of the Stage, the most
ornamental of the journals conse-
Grated to show business, look back on
the dying year with varying emotions
of contempt and admiration. In the
May issue they make list Of the so
worst plays of 1933-34, and put them
under the head of "Wallowing in the
Seasons Dramatic Lowlife." This is
a refreshing departure from the 10
best" habit, vice invented by Burns
Mantle. The editors of the Stage
give their accolade only to "DodS-
worth" Mary of Scotland" and "Ah,
Wilderness!" although they admit
that there may be other candidates
for the theater's knighthood. What is
especially irking to Hiram Mother
well, the editor in chief, is the fact
that today's drama critics are not as
scientific and psychological in their
studies of and comments upon the
art of acting as were Lewes, Lessing.
Hazlitt and Archer. We know some
thing about plays. he intimates, but
as to histrionics we are in the dark
/ myself am not q drama critic and