9.3
ruene Kakadu
Der
Tclephene
Bund /ondon ec#eno N9 5520 Cepfral U AND
mi Gd
f Publication
2.
4Priterte
·THE GREEN COCKAT00.
Most French Revolution dramas are as like as so
many peas. It has been left to a Viennese. Herr
Arthur Schnitzler, to break new ground; and“
The
Green Cockatoo,? a long, oneract piece, translatel
by Miss Penelope Wheeler, and produced ut the
Vandevilie last night, scored a deserred suctess.
The scene is laid in P’aris in 1789, at an under¬
groun! cnbaret, where a series of weird perform¬
ances is given br a group of tattered tramp players
for the benefit of blase aristocrats.
The leading actor, who has been secretlz married
that day, improvises a recital, showing himself
going mad by reason of his bride having become
the mistress ef a certain titled Lothario.
Before the actor can finish he discovers that his
tale is true! He grapples with the aristocrat and
stabs him to the beart.
The thrilling drama ends ##ththe inrush of a
mob of infuriated“ citizens'# aring pieces of the
Bastille, which they have just bred.
This powerful “ grotesque'’as it is calledl—is
splendidly played, especially by Mr. Norman
MeKinnel as the chief actor.
The Green Cockatoo? was preceded bya simi¬
larlv streng four-scene London slum play, written
by Mr. Hermon Quld (a native of Tower Hill) and
entitied Between Sunset and Dawn. It is a
drama of Deptford—full of the dumb pathos of the
Poor—and was splendidly acted.
box 15/3
cation
Elenz
VAUDEVILLE.
Between Sunset and Dawn.
Mr. Hermon Ould, à new dramatist, dis¬
covered by Messrs, McKinnel and Whelen,
is certainly not content to follow the
beaten track. His low-life tragedy.“ Be¬
tween Sunser and Dawn, though in
theme it bears some resemblance to Mr.
Galsworthy's“ Fugitive.“ is novel in con¬
struction, original in characterisation, un¬
conventional in vocabulary, and, in its issue
nothing less than astounding. Three our
of its four scenes pass in a doss-house kept
by a“ widow in a by-street,“ who, like
Mr. Masefield’s heroine, has an only son,
Jim. As embodied by Mr. MeKinnel, he
is a powerful young fellow, apparently of
1
the navvy class. We learn casually in the
course of the play that he“ reads books“;
but his literary proclivities have neither
softened his manners nor expurgated his
language. To the doss-house, one night,
there comes a young woman, hitherto un¬
known to him, who proves to be the wife
Jof an acquaintance of his, a“ swine“ and
a+rotter' named Bill Higgins. She has
left her husband, unable to endure any
longer his drunkenness and ill-usage; and
her helpless plight awakes the rude—the
very rude—chivalry of Jim Harris’s
nature. He saves her from her husband’s
pursnit, and rapidly falls in love with
her. To his proposal that they shall go
away and live together she hesitatingly
and reluctantly consents; but when she
goes off to seek another lodging for the
night, her heart fails her, for she has
been“ brought up respectable,“ and she
returns home.
Her husband is not disinelined to #ccept!“
her submission, and for a moment it seems
as though matters between them were to
be patched up. But his boding eoul tells
him that Jim Harris has been making
up to her,“ and in his drunker, jéalbusy
he becomes so violent that once more shef
leaves his house, Returning to Jim
Harris, she confesses her infirmity of pur¬
pose, but indicates that she has now done
with her husband for ever. And here is
the point at which Mr. Harris’s character
develops in a wholly unexpected direction.
Though his conversation teems with mono¬
syllabic allnsions to Hades and to thef
digestive organs, and though his conduct
to his aged mother is the reverse of filial,
it now appears that he is an intransigeant
idealist, with very exacting notions upon
various ethical questions. Hie confidence
in Mrs. Higgins is a good deal shakon
when he finds that she intended to go
back on her word to him; and when ehe
confesses to having lied to her husband.
and denied that he, Jim, had been
making up to her,“ his moral indigna¬
tion knows no bounds. It avails her
nothing to plead that she stood in terror
of her life. His reply is,“ Well, yon'vel
got to die once, haven't yon?’’—and he
shows that he is no longer very keen on
associating with a woman who is capable
of such mean-spirited mendacity. It
would be unfair to summarise in cold
blood the end of the play. To under¬
stand it at all, we must follow in detail
the development of Jim’s character; and
thaf is impossible unless one could quote
pages of dialogue. Even when we know
all that is to be known about him, I do
not think that. his action is very compre¬
hensible. Apart from its startling close,
however, the play is full of interest and
promise; and it is admirablr acted by Mr.
MeKinnel as Jim. Mr. Edmond Breon as
Bill Higgins, and Miss May Blayney as
Liz.
ruene Kakadu
Der
Tclephene
Bund /ondon ec#eno N9 5520 Cepfral U AND
mi Gd
f Publication
2.
4Priterte
·THE GREEN COCKAT00.
Most French Revolution dramas are as like as so
many peas. It has been left to a Viennese. Herr
Arthur Schnitzler, to break new ground; and“
The
Green Cockatoo,? a long, oneract piece, translatel
by Miss Penelope Wheeler, and produced ut the
Vandevilie last night, scored a deserred suctess.
The scene is laid in P’aris in 1789, at an under¬
groun! cnbaret, where a series of weird perform¬
ances is given br a group of tattered tramp players
for the benefit of blase aristocrats.
The leading actor, who has been secretlz married
that day, improvises a recital, showing himself
going mad by reason of his bride having become
the mistress ef a certain titled Lothario.
Before the actor can finish he discovers that his
tale is true! He grapples with the aristocrat and
stabs him to the beart.
The thrilling drama ends ##ththe inrush of a
mob of infuriated“ citizens'# aring pieces of the
Bastille, which they have just bred.
This powerful “ grotesque'’as it is calledl—is
splendidly played, especially by Mr. Norman
MeKinnel as the chief actor.
The Green Cockatoo? was preceded bya simi¬
larlv streng four-scene London slum play, written
by Mr. Hermon Quld (a native of Tower Hill) and
entitied Between Sunset and Dawn. It is a
drama of Deptford—full of the dumb pathos of the
Poor—and was splendidly acted.
box 15/3
cation
Elenz
VAUDEVILLE.
Between Sunset and Dawn.
Mr. Hermon Ould, à new dramatist, dis¬
covered by Messrs, McKinnel and Whelen,
is certainly not content to follow the
beaten track. His low-life tragedy.“ Be¬
tween Sunser and Dawn, though in
theme it bears some resemblance to Mr.
Galsworthy's“ Fugitive.“ is novel in con¬
struction, original in characterisation, un¬
conventional in vocabulary, and, in its issue
nothing less than astounding. Three our
of its four scenes pass in a doss-house kept
by a“ widow in a by-street,“ who, like
Mr. Masefield’s heroine, has an only son,
Jim. As embodied by Mr. MeKinnel, he
is a powerful young fellow, apparently of
1
the navvy class. We learn casually in the
course of the play that he“ reads books“;
but his literary proclivities have neither
softened his manners nor expurgated his
language. To the doss-house, one night,
there comes a young woman, hitherto un¬
known to him, who proves to be the wife
Jof an acquaintance of his, a“ swine“ and
a+rotter' named Bill Higgins. She has
left her husband, unable to endure any
longer his drunkenness and ill-usage; and
her helpless plight awakes the rude—the
very rude—chivalry of Jim Harris’s
nature. He saves her from her husband’s
pursnit, and rapidly falls in love with
her. To his proposal that they shall go
away and live together she hesitatingly
and reluctantly consents; but when she
goes off to seek another lodging for the
night, her heart fails her, for she has
been“ brought up respectable,“ and she
returns home.
Her husband is not disinelined to #ccept!“
her submission, and for a moment it seems
as though matters between them were to
be patched up. But his boding eoul tells
him that Jim Harris has been making
up to her,“ and in his drunker, jéalbusy
he becomes so violent that once more shef
leaves his house, Returning to Jim
Harris, she confesses her infirmity of pur¬
pose, but indicates that she has now done
with her husband for ever. And here is
the point at which Mr. Harris’s character
develops in a wholly unexpected direction.
Though his conversation teems with mono¬
syllabic allnsions to Hades and to thef
digestive organs, and though his conduct
to his aged mother is the reverse of filial,
it now appears that he is an intransigeant
idealist, with very exacting notions upon
various ethical questions. Hie confidence
in Mrs. Higgins is a good deal shakon
when he finds that she intended to go
back on her word to him; and when ehe
confesses to having lied to her husband.
and denied that he, Jim, had been
making up to her,“ his moral indigna¬
tion knows no bounds. It avails her
nothing to plead that she stood in terror
of her life. His reply is,“ Well, yon'vel
got to die once, haven't yon?’’—and he
shows that he is no longer very keen on
associating with a woman who is capable
of such mean-spirited mendacity. It
would be unfair to summarise in cold
blood the end of the play. To under¬
stand it at all, we must follow in detail
the development of Jim’s character; and
thaf is impossible unless one could quote
pages of dialogue. Even when we know
all that is to be known about him, I do
not think that. his action is very compre¬
hensible. Apart from its startling close,
however, the play is full of interest and
promise; and it is admirablr acted by Mr.
MeKinnel as Jim. Mr. Edmond Breon as
Bill Higgins, and Miss May Blayney as
Liz.