Reign of Terror

The present Broadway season has been nothing much to brag about. It has produced some very good entertainment, no good serious drama, much bad playwrighting. Last week the casualties were heavy. First, English Playwright J. B. Priestley went to the block for When We Are Married, a stale joke protracted into a three-act play. Next, Irish Playwright Paul Vincent Carroll, after distinguishing himself with Shadow and Substance and The White Steed, mounted the scaffold for Kindred, a turgid work neither poetic nor rational. Finally, U. S. Playwright Gustav Eckstein was garroted for Christmas Eve, a confused tale of family life featuring (to no avail) a childbirth on stage.

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