S
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24.
PETE S PAGL
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By Alexander Woollcott -
1
The Schnitzler Play
DRAMATIC ACTRESS in The
VTHE CALL OF LIFE,“ translated from
the German of Arthur Schnitzter br Dor¬
Call of Life,' Which Opened
othy Donneliy. Produced by the Actors'
Theatre. Dlrected by Dudley Digges. Set¬
Last Night
#tings by Joe Mielziner. At the Comedy.
THE CAST
Moser Egon Brecher
Marie Eva Le Gallienne
Edward Rainer Douglass R. Dumbrilie
Dr. Schindler. Thomas Chalmers
Mra. Toni Richter. Allce John
Catherine Katherine Alexander
Max. Derek Glanne
Sebastlan Leete Stone
The Colonel Hermann Lieb
Albert Stanley Kalkhurst
Trene Rosalind Fuller
A searching, fronic and profoundly
interesting play, a difficult play some¬
times magnificently acted and almost
always acted well enough—that was
the gallant beginning of the Actors'
Theatre season as it was launched last
evening at the Comedy.
It was" The Call of Life,“ an carly
piece from the writings of Arthur
Schnitzler, which has been so skil¬
fully done into English br Dorothy
Donnelly that the almost inevitable
smell of translation is imperceptible.
This is a study of the strange, dis¬

sonantal chorus from choirs Invisible
—a, composition wrought from the
ENA LE GALLIENNE.
calls of life wherewith we mortals are
bewildered. Its central thread fol¬
the conclusion that the director had!
lows the torment of a woman at whose
at last found a function for the
lonely and troubled door life knocks
Equity’s Board of Directors.
at last one night with the accent of a
In this scene and in the play itself
final call, and who obeys that sum¬
mons for the sake of one crowded
there is nothing finer than the#ex¬
hour, though there be the blood of her
traordinary performance of the ma¬
father on her hands as she goes, and
lignant old invalld by Egon Brecher,
her world Is ashes at daylight.
Then, too, I think that Eva Le Galli¬
Like oall of the Schnitzler plays,
enne was at her best last night.
this one has a little greatness and
Perhaps she is wearing me down.
some beauty. Like them all, it has a
Perhaps I am only getting used to
miscellaneous pattern which woule
her. Perhaps I am weakly yielding
make the mere argument of its sce¬
to a kind of trancelike acting whsch
narlo here not only confusing but
I make rather a point of abominating.
impossible.
But Ithink not. I think she is flower¬
But, like them all, it has a unity of
ing as an actress.
mood. And here, as in“ The Lonelz'
It is quite true that no act of the
Way,“ to which this play is a com¬
play as written and as acted is so
panion piece, all the small streams
good as the first one. It is quite true
find their way at last into the great
that the sudden vivid, starting see¬
river of the play's emotion and the
ond act—beautifully mounted and
play’s destination, And, like them
magnificently imagined—suffers a
al' like all great plays, in fact, it is
good deal from the hollowness o? the
vocative assessment of life it¬
acting by the two young players en¬
gaged for the lieutenants.
The central figure is a woman whose
One of these is named Derek
days and nights are spent tetheredto
Glyune. And in the midst of an idle
the invalid’s chalr of a mean and
speculation as to how we came to be¬
querulous father. The knock that
celebrating Glynne week In the thea¬
comeg at last Is a summons to the
tre, it occurred to onc old meanie in
youth who is setting forth at day¬
the andience to suggest that the tal¬
break for the front in some ancient
ent for this scene had been recruited
and forgotten war, setting forth at
when Morris Gest disbanded the Par¬
daybreak to a needless, grotesque but
ade of the Wooden Soldiers.
inevitable death.
It is true too that the last act
The first act is laid in the sick
rather wallows in itself and that, at
room, shrouded, musty, dim, while
the last moment, Dr. Schnitzler.
outside the hurrying stream of life
vielded to a naughty impulse to have
plays an inciting accompaniment, the
atrying death scene acted luxuriously
cheers of the mob, the sound of fife
all over the stage in a tradition he at
and drum, the endless shuffle and tap
least might have outlived.
of soldiers marching off to war.
But these are feeble kicks against##
I never saw an act in the theatre
a fine, rich, nourishing evening in
more beautifully, more perfectly or¬
the theatre, I should not expect
chestrated than this one—the offstage
The Call of Life““ to be clasped to
ructions seeming more real and more
the public bosom, but the hat of your
multitudinous than ever before in my
correspondent is hereby doffed re¬
experience as a playgoer. Indeed, the
spectfully in honor of a fine ambition
whole world scemed to be in the
and an honorablé achievement.
wings last night and I was driven to