New Plays

The Humble. In reproving contrast to The Noose (see below) stands a play fashioned from Dostoievsky's Crime and Punishment. Herein a Russian student is goaded to murder by what he considers a rational motive: to rid the world of a monster. His tortured philosophy fails to comprehend the final principle of rational thought, "the law that there shall be law." The story-teller fastens upon the young man's soul, wrings it, twists it, wracks it, as only a Russian can, or would. The play follows the novel's torments through hours of merciless misery. That U. S. audiences, not much given to the relish of agony, now acclaim The Humble enthusiastically, is tribute to the staging of Bertram Forsythe and the acting of a remarkable cast. As the central character, Basil Sydney maintains unflinching devotion to a cruel role.

Daisy Mayme. George Kelly became a playwright on the vaudeville circuit. At one time it was his business to fashion single act skits for the two-a-day. In doing so, he studied homely characters, setting them into homely situations, for the amusement of audiences that generally failed to appreciate the unobtrusive irony of the whole. His real genius, then as now, lay in a faculty for etching characters with acidic dialogue. The Torch Bearers, The Show-off Craig's Wife, have established him as playwright-director, have also established Rosalie Stewart, first to appreciate his genius, as one of Broadway's successful producers. Now Daisy Mayme, probably the playwright's best effort, has settled down to a successful Kelly run.

Daisy Mayme, middle-aged merchant-maid of Harrisburg, lonesome but always laughing, meets Cliff Mettinger, bachelor, and his orphan niece on the bright shore at Atlantic City. She goes to Cliff's suburban home as the family guest, there to encounter feminine intrigue: Cliff's two sisters eager for his money. During the downpour of a domestic storm, Daisy blossoms forth a late but hardy bride. As usual, Mr. Kelly subordinates action to characterization and dialogue, with the result that his play moves slowly. As usual, Mr. Kelly's protagonists tell Mr. Kelly's antagonists just where, in Kellyese, to get off. As usual, Mr. Kelly's audience grunts acquiescently and audibly, nods knowingly, applauds heartily, gives evidence that it knows these people on the stage as well as Mr. Kelly does and is glad to see that things are turning out as they should. The Three Sisters. Anton Chekhov's play offered at Eva Le Gallienne's Civic Repertory Theatre, constitutes a sufficient justification for that pioneer enterprise. For The Three Sisters is a great drama that could not possibly succeed in a Broadway house. It tells of the dry rot creeping upon a class of Russian society which, for years, has been privileged to do nothing-- the petty military, the country landlord. Always the victims struggle to writhe free of the suffocating blankets of their own inertia--in this case, three sisters. They will go to Moscow, where there is life. They will go. But they never do. They just relapse into the tragic, supine, half-dead repose fastened upon them by their traditional weakness. Meanwhile peasant bipod, reddened by centuries of labor, filters in with the drops of dying blue, picks up the burdens--and the authority--that the grand folk slough off. Soon the peasants will be the grand folk.

Anton Chekhov's plots are not exciting. His craft is to introduce, in rambling stage narrative, bits of daily life, dull except to the few who love inspired satire. Theatregoers who seek effortless entertainment are warned to avoid The Three Sisters. So consistently is the mood of restless boredom maintained on the stage that it will surely transmit itself to any half-asleep onlooker. To those who can emerge from the day's fracas of commercial activity with relish for intellectual adventure, The Three Sisters will prove one of the season's delights.

The Noose. Act I: The hero refuses to tell why he killed the burly bootlegger; and the audience wonders why the wife of "The Governor of the State" pleads for a pardon on the grounds that the hero is "more sinned against than sinning." Act II: Cut back to the murder in a sprightly milieu of harlots and bootleggers like that in a prior hit, Broadway* (TIME, Sept. 27). Act III: So the bootlegger murdered by the hero was his f-th-r . . . and the Governor's wife was his m-th-r. . . . Shissh, Shussh! Off with the noose. A neatly meshed plot running smoothly with hokum in all the grease cups.

The Ladder. In order to reconcile the hardships of life with his faith in a benevolent Deity, Playwright J. Frank Davis has evolved a quaint philosophy of reincarnation. After an intolerably unhappy 13th Century, a group of people squirm, reincarnated, into the 17th Century, from there into the 19th Century, from there into the 20th Century, where, at last, matters are so divinely ordered that the heroine can have both a career and a husband with a good job and the right personality. Such a philosophy of transmigration, in short, as might make the Buddha so far forget himself as to grind his teeth in Nirvana. The series of episodes, themselves, are intriguing one-act playlets, little snapshots through the ages, each sufficient unto itself, the sum total going to make up an unusually superficial outline of history. Antoinette Perry's rich voice frequently makes the wooden dialogue come to life. Hugh Buckler's virile characterizations also help.

Katja. The ordeal whereby for the sake of a nation, royalty submits to degrading incognito, is much met in Shubert operetta. In Katja, however, there is more than enough humor and music to relieve the redundancy of thought. Having already charmed the British, it brings to this civilization "Leander", a song that needs no comment because everyone will soon know it by heart; Doris Patston, a pert lass who captivates; Jack Sheehan, comedian, who exchanges an honest laugh for every minute of the audience's attention; Lilian Davies, prima donna, and Allan Prior, tenor, who can sing, act, and look handsome all at the same time. With its old fashioned harmonies and duets, Katja stands first in the lists of current operettas, a formidable champion to dispute the supremacy of Sir Jazz in the tournament of musical entertainments.

On Approval. Frederick Lonsdale's genius for smart repartee dialogue finds many a brilliant opportunity in a play with only four characters. Mrs. Wislack (Violet Kemble Cooper), widow, will experiment for one month with the temperament of mild Richard Halton (Wallace Eddinger) before risking another matrimonial venture. The Duke of Bristol (Hugh Wakefield) is more of an opportunist. He sets his suave cap for immediate acquisition of Helen Hayle (Kathlene MacDonell), heiress and best friend of the canny widow. After a skirmish of wits, with no insults barred, provided only that they be smooth-edged as befits Mrs. Wislack's Scottish mansion, the Duke and Heiress are left to their own dangerous company, while the less keen, more pleasant couple enter holy matrimony. The cast is the last word in sophisticated urbanity.

Wild Rose. Arthur Hammerstein's annual operetta floats along on Rudolf Friml's melodies to merited success. Wild Rose and One Little Kingdom, especially, belong at the top of the day's popular music. The play, of course, is laid in a, mythical kingdom, wherefore the princess fights the inevitable fight to reconcile love and duty, with the usual sad results; her U. S. lover acquits himself as he might be expected to before a U. S. audience. Thin comedy is compensated for by Desiree Ellinger, Joseph Santley, and sprightly dancers. But above all, there is the music.

Raquel Meller seems to have stored up within herself an infinite number of personalities, which she reveals, one by one, according to her program. Only one quality do all these personalities possess in common--a femininity that is altogether bewitching. An effort to analyze her art is like breaking up butterfly wings with a cold chisel. So it is perhaps better simply to announce that Raquel Meller is back--to be seen, heard, and delighted in, at the Henry Miller Theatre.

List

Theatregoers will find the following selection worthy of first consideration:

DRAMA

American Tragedy--Effective reproduction of

Theodore Dreiser's tragedy about a weak

young man who became desperate. Broadway--Night club entertainers make

quick love in quick changes between

shootings. Captive--A fascinating tragedy laid in the

byways of life.

Daisy Mayme--Reviewed this week. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes--Lorelei Lee,

golden-haired pirate, swoops down upon

the merchant men. God Loves Us--"But with reservations,"

says J. P. McEvoy in good satire. Juarez and Maximilian--Downfall of the

Mexican Empire in a historical pageant

play for the thoughtful. Meller, Raquel--Reviewed this week. On Approval--Reviewed this week. White Wings--Trailing clouds of yesterday.

ENTERTAINMENTS WITH Music

Americana, Katja, lolanthe, Scandals, Queen High, Criss Cross.

The following are also playing:

Abie's Irish Rose--Good enough for our fathers.

At Mrs. Beam's--Amusing comedy about a bluebeard in an English boarding house.

Black Boy -- Paul Robeson, Negro "pug,"fights his way to wormwood and ashes.

Blonde Sinner-- Nicer than the name, but not as fetching.

Deep River-- The soul of old Louisiana in music ; a beautiful native opera.

Donovan Affair-- There is absolutely no use in trying to guess who killed Jack

Donovan. The business of the audience is to shiver.

Fanny -- Fannie-Brice plus mush.

Henry-- Behave !-- Because if you do not, you will get into Congress. Moderately funny farce.

House of Ussher -- Domestic intrigue, oppressively dark-brown in tone.

Humble -- Reviewed this week.

If I Was Rich -- The shipping room moves into Southhampton.

Jeweled Tree -- Egypt before King Tut won fame as a mummy ; slow.

John Ferguson-- A great play enjoys a good revival in a little theatre.

Judge's Husband -- William Hodge as William Hodge by William Hodge ; and good,

Just Life -- Just bunk.

Ladder -- Reviewed this week.

Lion Tamer -- Incoherent philosophy in a circus.

Little Spitfire -- Tribulations-in-law of a right-thinking chorus girl.

Loose Ankles -- The private life of 5 & 10 cent sheiks ; very wise-cracky.

Lulu Belle -- A colored wench plies her trade between Harlem and Paris ; very exicting.

Noose -- Reviewed this week.

Sex -- Stupid.

Shanghai Gesture -- The day of reckoning in a Chinese bawdy house.

She Couldn't Say No -- Even a dumb remark sounds funny when it comes out of Florence Moore.

They All Want Something-- Et tu, Tilden.

Two Girls Wanted -- Rustic virtue triumphant in the metropolis.

We Americans -- Act II : a night school for Italians, Poles, Bavarians, Czechs, Chinese and other East Siders.

Women Disputed -- For Ann Harding, LowellSherman fans.

Yellow -- Good melodrama.

*Playwright Willard Mack said, in a curtain speech, that his play was written "more than one year ago."