New Plays

The Devil's Disciple. Revolt against the accepted deities of mankind is as old as Prometheus and as new as Amory Elaine. Which may be one reason why The Devil's Disciple wears so well.

In Dick Dudgeon's case this revolt was largely due to a Puritan turn of mind. The narrow, selfish religion of his mother dominated his youth --he found his only escape from it in championing, with almost Calvinistic fervor, the single antagonist his mother both hated and feared, the Devil himself. By doing so he not only satisfied his native necessity for religion but managed to obtain a good deal of rather naive enjoyment by shocking his smug fellow-townsmen and being universally regarded as a frightful reprobate.

As a matter of fact he had always more of the martyr than the happy pagan in his composition, and so, when the opportunity came of surreptitiously taking the local minister's place as piece de resistance at a hanging-party staged by King George's troops to help the American Revolution subside, he did it, without in the least knowing why. The hanging was averted, thanks to the aforesaid minister's sudden activity as a militant Paul Revere--and the play ends with Dick about to take over the minister's parish duties, while the minister, who had always considered himself a man of peace, discovers his true vocation as a Captain of Volunteers-and the minister's wife, who has misunderstood Dick enough to fall in love with him as a self-sacrificing saint and her husband enough to think him a perfect coward, finds herself, at the finish, quite uncertain as to what she really thinks at all.

The play is not one of Shaw's very best--partly due to its mingling of highly effective melodrama with psychological issues, which are rather dodged in the conclusion--but it is witty, diverting and exciting. The presentation is of the first order. Basil Sydney is a nonchalant and engaging Dick -- Moffat Johnston and Lotus Robb, as Anthony and Judith Anderson are telling and skillful. And Roland Young, as " Gentlemanly Johnny " Burgoyne, the disillusioned General, is wholly felicitous.

Hey wood Broun: " A good show."

Burns Mantle: " Moves jerkily and artificially."

Percy Hammond: " Most skillfully cast."

As You Like It. The American National Theatre presented as its initial production a massive and lavish As You Like It. It was Shakespeare carte blanche--no expense was spared--the supporting cast was long and carefully chosen--the costumes fresh and colorful--the scenery, by Lee Simonson, frequently magnificent. And yet all this abundant, conscientious detail, often delightful enough in itself, somehow failed to build up into a successful whole. The play pasted only six nights and two matinees.

It lacked pace, for one thing. As You Like It is a light, artificial comedy--a genteel fairytale, written in a tradition that now seems foreign to us, and touched with magic chiefly because of its occaionally marvelous language and the central character of Rosalind-- one of the most engaging and delightful of all Shakespeare's heroines. Played too slowly it is bound to drag--and it was played very slowly.

For the individual roles, Ian Keith made a confident and picturesque Orlando. But Marjorie Rambeau was not Rosalind. She was good to look at, her delivery was often excellent, her comedy effective without tedious rollicking -- but the proud, humorous, airy creature of Shakespeare's fancy she was not. She gave everything but enchantment to the part.

Alan Dale: "Utterly uninspired and conscientious performance . . handsome production."

Heywood Broun: " Got off with gusto but could not hold the pace."

J. Rankin Towse: " Rich, costly, gorgeous but . . . not satisfactory."

Sylvia. Mild, rather inept comedy, by Leighton Osmun, amateurishly presented by the Players, Inc.