Tinsel Jubilee

Manhattan's Theater Guild began its 25th season last week with two new Broadway productions. They revealed that, at 25, the Guild is past its prime. Neither Ketti Frings's Mr. Sycamore nor Philip Barry's Without Love would probably have rated a bid to the exciting birthday parties of the Guild's youth, when whimsey and small talk were freezingly snubbed.

Mr. Sycamore tells of a postman who, tired of walking and sick to death of people, decides he would like to become a tree. He plants himself in the backyard, and begins by catching cold and being hooted at by the neighbors. Then he grows bark, roots and leaves, ends by becoming a tree.

An amiable fantasy, the play is told in homely, backyard terms, with no attempt at cosmic symbolisms. It displays some clever touches. It provides some amusing moments, chiefly at the expense of the gabbling, skeptical townspeople (though their skepticism can hardly be termed extreme). It enables Cinemactor Stuart Erwin to perform, man and tree, very likably. But the play, with its single frail idea, lacks movement and variety. Critic Sir Leslie Stephen once said that certain things are interesting only because they actually happened. That applies, on the whole, to men turning into trees.

Without Love (TIME, April 27) has gained no luster since its three-month tour last spring. A coyly told story of two young people (Katharine Hepburn and Elliot Nugent) who marry for companionship, in due time lift the embargo on sex and wind up madly in love, it is chiefly a field day for Katharine Hepburn and her dressmaker. Actress Hepburn makes the most of her coltish charm. Playwright Barry contributes some witty wisecracks, but not much else.

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