Old Play in Manhattan

Private Lives (by Noel Coward; produced by John C. Wilson) was, 17 years ago, a brittle comedy in which Gertrude Lawrence and Noel Coward deftly misbehaved. Last week it became a vehicle--a sort of battering ram--for Tallulah Bankhead. Miss Bankhead, with Donald Cook (Claudia, Skylark), puts on quite a show, though few would call it Private Lives.

Coward's tale of a divorced couple who meet again on their second honeymoon, fly their new mates, and let fly (between endearments) at each other, once seemed as faintly decadent as chain-smoking. In the Bankhead version, it is as strenuous as football. Miss Bankhead, between moments of dreamy ladylikeness during which she is probably catching her breath, coils, snarls, pounces, crunches her lines, turns throbbing baritone, and in general portrays what appears to be the love of Mt. Vesuvius for a mortal.

Her performance reduces Private Lives to boisterous burlesque, which is probably no worse than to have tried to revive it as acidulous comedy. For though it certainly still has its moments, the old outrageous gaiety and dash are for the most part lacking. What perhaps has held up best is the vulgarity.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.