box 15/3
ruene Kakadu
9.3. Der
RsseSSSseSsesesssseee
The Westminster Gazette.
Date of Issue; 22:70.
TWO PLAYS AT THE VAUDEVILLE THEATRE.
It is regrettable that“ Collision?' should have had so short a
run, for it was an interesting play of considerable merit, and,
despite its technical flavour, deserved support; but the public thin
season sccms to be set against serious drama. Last night ###o
one-act pieces of substantial length were presented at the Vaude¬
ville, and introduced by a short song-recital, which I do not feci
myself competentto criticise. Still, 1 should like to say that Mies
Gertrude Rolffs rendered a dramatic song called“ The Song oi
Misery? with quite thrilling power. The ordinary performanse
began with a play in four scenes by Mr. Hermon Quld, called
* Between Sunset and Dawn. It is a tragedy of humble lisc,
written with some ability. The chief figures are Bill Higgins,
exact calling unknown, his wile Liz, and Jim Harris, keeper of a
“ duss-house, ?' so humble that acccmmodation could be obtained
for as little as a penny. Bill iiggins is a voung drunkard who
knocks his wite about, so she runs away, and late at night comes
tothe doss-house. Jim falls in love with her, and begs her to
come and live with him, and after scruples on the ground of respec¬
tability she consents, but a lew minutes later gocs back to her
husband. Bill is jealous, am after a row attempts to assault her,
So she runs away again, and returns to the doss-house. Jim is a
littie chilled after hearing the truth, and withdraws his invitation,
but when she is going awav fires up again, and soon discovers that
though she consents to live with him she prefers the husband.
Then he invites her to sit down, adopts a queer idiotic manner
which 1 do not understand, asks her #o kiss him, and when she is
about to do so, stabs her fatallz. I am still päzzled by the idiotic
demeancur in the last scene, and perhaps in consequence of my
ignorance do not feel at all satisfied about the truth of the play
on the whole. This is unfortunate in the case of a work of such
a grim character. It may be a profound study; if so, my judgment
isat fault. Mr. Norman McKinnel acted with considerable force
as Jim without being quite convincing. Miss May Blayney, in the
part of the wife, though there was skill in her performance, did not
succeed in keeping back the idea that she was a lady representing
one of the almost submerged. There was some merit in the
acting of Mr. Edmond Breon as Bill.
The second piece was Schiitzler’s comedy“ The Green Cocka¬
too, presented in March of last year by the Stage Society, and
subsequently published in book form, though in another transla¬
tion ably made by Mr. Horace B. Samuel. A quite remarkable
little drama with vivid thumb-nail sketches of character presenting
an episode of the beginning of the French Revolution, and bringing
out certain aspects with extraordinary force. Indeed." The
Green Cockatoo?' is masterly in construction, and presents a host
of real characters acting and reucting on one another, and is
worked up with great skill to a big climax. The performance
is more notable for general excellence than great individual merit.
Alr. McKinnel acted with much force as Henri, the central figure,
Bit failed to give the poctic note. There was skilful work by¬
Messrs. Edward Rigby, A. G. Poulton, and Leslie Carter. The
piece was received with Considerable applause.
E. F. S.
#. - Saldcn
—0Lobsechdl
ANU SPEEU.
S
ing fromthe —
ress of Publication
2110•77
dated —
BETWEEN SUNSET AND DAWN“
Mr. Norman MeKinnel in a Strong New
Play.
It was an interesting evening at the Vamleville last
night, when Messis. Norman Mekinnel and Frederick
Whelen presented what was in the nature of a triple bill.
But, as the first part was musical and the last was a
revival, chief attention müst be centred upon the second¬
item, which was a piece in four scenes by Hermon Quld,
By this it
entitled“ Between Sunset and Dawn.
should not be inferred that the miniature recital of their
own songs by Miss Gertrude Rolffs and Mr. Anton¬
Dressler fell upon unappreciative cars. On the contrary,
both the vocal and creative abilities and the fine dramatie
manner in which they were delivered to the brilliant
pianoforte accompaniment ef Mr. Dressler were recog¬
nised in no uncertain manner by the audience.
The title of the evening’s novelty is a good one, and,
it must be confessed, filled one with more confidence
before the curtain rose than just immediately after. For,
truth to tell, those zho had not studied well their pro¬
gramme, and seen that the first section took place in the
kitchen of Mrs. Harris s dosshouse in South London, felt
a sense of disappointment that the characters and scenes
fealt with London“ low life. It stands to the credit
pf those concerned, players and author alike, that this
feeling soon gave way to one of eager attention. Inter¬
preters of a new play seldom receive their dud, for, on
account of.the exigencies of space, the author gets most
of the notice; but there is no doubt that the stimulating
##ffectof the acting of Mr. Norman Mekinnel, as Jim
Harris, and of Miss Ada King, as Jim s mother, in the
first moments of the piece, had its influence right through
to the end.
Between Sunset and Dawn has qufte the Gals¬
worthy touch, but the scenes are handled with more
realism and less decision. For as a matter of fact, it is
difficult to decide which of the two forbidding male speci¬
inens between whom poor little Liz Higgins has to cheose
is the more mentally unbalanced. The husband, Who bangs
her about wlen he is in his cups, who wants to kiss her
one minute and to hate her the next, is every bit as dan¬
generous at large as the burly imbecile that does her
in intheend. Abanyrate Liz, pretty as a peach, as the
Americans would say, runs away from her young“ old
man, and is driven by a storm into a penny doss¬
house, just as Mrs. Harris, whose tongue s as sharp as
her thirst, is being candidly rebuked by her big, slow,
roughly honest son Jim.
Liz has not a penny, but Jim takes her in; and when
Bill Higgins, finding her whercabouts, demands his wife's
release, for Jim has locked her in a room, the big man
refuses tolet her husband take her away, though he has to
knock him down several times by way of emphasis of his
Intentions. Liz is distinetly impressed by her protector,
who hitherto has held all feminity in calm contempt, but
she takes a lot of persuading to meet him somewhere next
fay. Her“ lawful'’ instinets prove, however, stronger
than anything else, and she goes back to her home just
after Bill has gone sorrowfully to bed. But he hears her
return. He is jealous, trusting, misbelieving, kind,
brutal by turn, and finally only the lamp going
but and giving Liz the chance to escape
prevents his killing her on the spot. The woman returns
to Jim, who for a time is for turning her away, simply
because she had lied“ like all women in telling her
husband he, Jimn, had not tried to kiss her. But a new
and dangerous chord has been struck in Jim, and he
rannot let her go. He stops her at the door. She dees
not read his leering looks aright. But passion had
nwakened in this hulking frame the hereditary taint that
had sent his father to a madman's grave. He puts two
ruene Kakadu
9.3. Der
RsseSSSseSsesesssseee
The Westminster Gazette.
Date of Issue; 22:70.
TWO PLAYS AT THE VAUDEVILLE THEATRE.
It is regrettable that“ Collision?' should have had so short a
run, for it was an interesting play of considerable merit, and,
despite its technical flavour, deserved support; but the public thin
season sccms to be set against serious drama. Last night ###o
one-act pieces of substantial length were presented at the Vaude¬
ville, and introduced by a short song-recital, which I do not feci
myself competentto criticise. Still, 1 should like to say that Mies
Gertrude Rolffs rendered a dramatic song called“ The Song oi
Misery? with quite thrilling power. The ordinary performanse
began with a play in four scenes by Mr. Hermon Quld, called
* Between Sunset and Dawn. It is a tragedy of humble lisc,
written with some ability. The chief figures are Bill Higgins,
exact calling unknown, his wile Liz, and Jim Harris, keeper of a
“ duss-house, ?' so humble that acccmmodation could be obtained
for as little as a penny. Bill iiggins is a voung drunkard who
knocks his wite about, so she runs away, and late at night comes
tothe doss-house. Jim falls in love with her, and begs her to
come and live with him, and after scruples on the ground of respec¬
tability she consents, but a lew minutes later gocs back to her
husband. Bill is jealous, am after a row attempts to assault her,
So she runs away again, and returns to the doss-house. Jim is a
littie chilled after hearing the truth, and withdraws his invitation,
but when she is going awav fires up again, and soon discovers that
though she consents to live with him she prefers the husband.
Then he invites her to sit down, adopts a queer idiotic manner
which 1 do not understand, asks her #o kiss him, and when she is
about to do so, stabs her fatallz. I am still päzzled by the idiotic
demeancur in the last scene, and perhaps in consequence of my
ignorance do not feel at all satisfied about the truth of the play
on the whole. This is unfortunate in the case of a work of such
a grim character. It may be a profound study; if so, my judgment
isat fault. Mr. Norman McKinnel acted with considerable force
as Jim without being quite convincing. Miss May Blayney, in the
part of the wife, though there was skill in her performance, did not
succeed in keeping back the idea that she was a lady representing
one of the almost submerged. There was some merit in the
acting of Mr. Edmond Breon as Bill.
The second piece was Schiitzler’s comedy“ The Green Cocka¬
too, presented in March of last year by the Stage Society, and
subsequently published in book form, though in another transla¬
tion ably made by Mr. Horace B. Samuel. A quite remarkable
little drama with vivid thumb-nail sketches of character presenting
an episode of the beginning of the French Revolution, and bringing
out certain aspects with extraordinary force. Indeed." The
Green Cockatoo?' is masterly in construction, and presents a host
of real characters acting and reucting on one another, and is
worked up with great skill to a big climax. The performance
is more notable for general excellence than great individual merit.
Alr. McKinnel acted with much force as Henri, the central figure,
Bit failed to give the poctic note. There was skilful work by¬
Messrs. Edward Rigby, A. G. Poulton, and Leslie Carter. The
piece was received with Considerable applause.
E. F. S.
#. - Saldcn
—0Lobsechdl
ANU SPEEU.
S
ing fromthe —
ress of Publication
2110•77
dated —
BETWEEN SUNSET AND DAWN“
Mr. Norman MeKinnel in a Strong New
Play.
It was an interesting evening at the Vamleville last
night, when Messis. Norman Mekinnel and Frederick
Whelen presented what was in the nature of a triple bill.
But, as the first part was musical and the last was a
revival, chief attention müst be centred upon the second¬
item, which was a piece in four scenes by Hermon Quld,
By this it
entitled“ Between Sunset and Dawn.
should not be inferred that the miniature recital of their
own songs by Miss Gertrude Rolffs and Mr. Anton¬
Dressler fell upon unappreciative cars. On the contrary,
both the vocal and creative abilities and the fine dramatie
manner in which they were delivered to the brilliant
pianoforte accompaniment ef Mr. Dressler were recog¬
nised in no uncertain manner by the audience.
The title of the evening’s novelty is a good one, and,
it must be confessed, filled one with more confidence
before the curtain rose than just immediately after. For,
truth to tell, those zho had not studied well their pro¬
gramme, and seen that the first section took place in the
kitchen of Mrs. Harris s dosshouse in South London, felt
a sense of disappointment that the characters and scenes
fealt with London“ low life. It stands to the credit
pf those concerned, players and author alike, that this
feeling soon gave way to one of eager attention. Inter¬
preters of a new play seldom receive their dud, for, on
account of.the exigencies of space, the author gets most
of the notice; but there is no doubt that the stimulating
##ffectof the acting of Mr. Norman Mekinnel, as Jim
Harris, and of Miss Ada King, as Jim s mother, in the
first moments of the piece, had its influence right through
to the end.
Between Sunset and Dawn has qufte the Gals¬
worthy touch, but the scenes are handled with more
realism and less decision. For as a matter of fact, it is
difficult to decide which of the two forbidding male speci¬
inens between whom poor little Liz Higgins has to cheose
is the more mentally unbalanced. The husband, Who bangs
her about wlen he is in his cups, who wants to kiss her
one minute and to hate her the next, is every bit as dan¬
generous at large as the burly imbecile that does her
in intheend. Abanyrate Liz, pretty as a peach, as the
Americans would say, runs away from her young“ old
man, and is driven by a storm into a penny doss¬
house, just as Mrs. Harris, whose tongue s as sharp as
her thirst, is being candidly rebuked by her big, slow,
roughly honest son Jim.
Liz has not a penny, but Jim takes her in; and when
Bill Higgins, finding her whercabouts, demands his wife's
release, for Jim has locked her in a room, the big man
refuses tolet her husband take her away, though he has to
knock him down several times by way of emphasis of his
Intentions. Liz is distinetly impressed by her protector,
who hitherto has held all feminity in calm contempt, but
she takes a lot of persuading to meet him somewhere next
fay. Her“ lawful'’ instinets prove, however, stronger
than anything else, and she goes back to her home just
after Bill has gone sorrowfully to bed. But he hears her
return. He is jealous, trusting, misbelieving, kind,
brutal by turn, and finally only the lamp going
but and giving Liz the chance to escape
prevents his killing her on the spot. The woman returns
to Jim, who for a time is for turning her away, simply
because she had lied“ like all women in telling her
husband he, Jimn, had not tried to kiss her. But a new
and dangerous chord has been struck in Jim, and he
rannot let her go. He stops her at the door. She dees
not read his leering looks aright. But passion had
nwakened in this hulking frame the hereditary taint that
had sent his father to a madman's grave. He puts two