The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1935-02-19
WORLD Of the
THEATRE
A Splendid Actor But
Mediocre Group
REYIS0R inspector General, by
GogOl: S. Hurok presents Michel
ChekhOy and the Moscow Art
Players, at the Majestic Theatre.
Reviewed by
LEON ALEXANDER
LITTLE LEFTY


COME of those who witnessed the
" opening performance of the
Moscow Art Theatre were probably
little disappointed. The name as
sumed by this organization must
have led many to expect a certain
excellence of ensemble playing. But
there is wide gap, an llnbridgeable
gap almost, between the perform
ance of this company of actors from
Moscow-Yia Czecho- Slovakia. Ber-
lin, Paris, etc.-and that of the Mos
COW Art Theatre.
According to reports, it is eight
years since Mr.. Chekhov has left
the Soviet Union; some of the other
members of the cast must have been
gone for still longer time. At the
same, we have not heard on this
side of the ocean of any sort of
Russian Theatre in Paris, Berlin or
other points west of Moscow for
years. There is a definite feeling
that these people have never played
together before as group; that
they have been gathered together
for this occasion, and to furnish a
background for the star, Mr.. Michel
Chekhov.
But the weaknesses of the produc-
ton, some of it's almost amateurish
cruditieS, are bridged over by the
act ng of Michel Chekhov. Mr..
Chekhov is an extraordinary artist.
His movements are all f1uidity; his
performance is a dance. His wit is
in a grace of motion unpossessed by
any actor we know. He captures
the stage and the audience from his
first entrance.
He begins with an Interpretation
of the false Inspector General as of
a stupid fop, penniless son of a
petty landowner, a lamb sheared by
gamblers. His step is mincing; his
piping voice is doll-like; he is a pup
pet pulled by invisible strings-a
hungry puppet, bewildered and
mildly protesting.
Before long, he is Puck, and he is
Ariel-goblin or sprite in the body
of the stupid Shlestakov Every
movement of his is perfect, etched,
luminous and flows into the next
gracefully and inevitably. He scars
like music, he irnagines q hundred
variations, he embroiders unerringly
upon his themes; he has dropped
off all earthliness and carried us all
into an ethereal realm of phantasy.
No actor has ever had his incom-
parable lightness; we are reminded
of the airy, malicious, witty Italian
marionettes, the "Piccoli." Here is
the perfect instrument, the puppet-
actor, or actor puppet, Gordon
Cpaig once called for.
MR. CHEKHOV is not so success
III full as director. He has directed
Gogols play in the terms of broad
est farce, without a subtlety equal to
his own acting. The stupidity, the
meanness, the yenality Of the Rus
sian official, merchant and land
owner of the old regime is there;
they are brutal, incompetent, thiev-
ish, lying, superstitious. They fall
on their knees to pray to a god in
the image of their own ignorant,
drunken priests to protect them
from the calamity that has come
upon them in the shape of this In
spector General.
But one feels that the director
has tried to dictate the acting of
the rest Of the company in terms of
his own, lighter than-air move
ments; their spirit, however, is earth
bound, heavy, gross; they become
caricatures not only of the parts
they are trying to portray, but of
the star they are trying to echo.
Their performance begins to degen-
crate into that prevailing on the
American burlesque stage, with
overtones of "Bozo' Sneider and
Miss Fam Tazie, the fan dancer
from Flatbush.