New Plays

THE THEATRE

The Crooked Square. Herein we find the inaugural attempt of the dramatic year to prove that a young and comely maiden from the country stands no chance on Broadway. At least for two acts such is the burden of the action. Finally the maiden accomplishes the obvious, tricks a gang of society crooks, emerges triumphant on the arm of the affable young hero. Edna Hibbard is the girl; Kenneth McKenna the boy. Both are normally attractive.

The New York Herald: "In and out of the various counterplots is woven the most blinding sidelights on the horror that it must give a sensitive girl to walk along Broadway...."

The New York World: "A false and clumsy play, lacking both truth and logic . . . well acted."

The Marionettes. The business of importing continental novelties goes on apace. The present product is from Rome and is known locally as the Teatro del Piccoli. It comes with much journalistic information that the puppet show is the native drama of the land and that the operators amass family traditions much like those of our own Drews and Barrymores.

While their operas, their comedies, their pantomimes are progressing on the tiny stage, voices behind the scenes suit words (in English) to the action of the drama. The sum of all their efforts is a trifle better than any puppet troupe exhibited latterly in this country.

Alexander Woollcott: "We had never before seen a marionette show where the strings were quite so palpable. Also, to those of us sitting on the flank, an occasional glimpse of the wire-pullers themselves was vouchsafed. And from time to time one saw a fine Italian hand."

Heywood Broun: "Even the best of the marionettes is somewhat afflicted with the faults of old-fashioned acting. Gesture is facile but standardized."

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary. Mrs. Fiske, David Belasco and St. John Ervine pooled their artillery and the first big gun of the current season went off with a heavy boom. Despite the reverberations in the theatrical world concurrent with the presentation, the critics were not ecstatically enthusiastic. They deemed Mrs. Fiske magnificent; Belasco, about normal; Ervine, a trifle unsubstantial.

Mrs. Fiske plays right in her own front yard as a middle-aged actress on a weekend visit to a quiet English vicarage. Therein is a youthful dramatist who has composed a five-act poetic drama on Jeanne d'Arc. Therein is also a modern young daughter of Eve desirous of acquiring the youth as her very own and indignantly jealous of the elderly votary of Thespis. In addition is a Mr. 'Obbs, a theatrical manager interested solely in box office statements. Mrs. Fiske diverts herself by becoming engaged to various of the males, throwing frantic consternation throughout the vicarage household, finally departing with a play from the worst and most successful dramatist in England concerning herself (in evening dress) and a primitive gentleman (habited like our baboon ancestors) alone on a desert island.

Through it all Mrs. Fiske moved like a schooner yacht through a fleet of fishing smacks. Not that her support was inept-- Mrs. Fiske's amazing artistry made them seem insignificant. She seemed about as fine as any mortal can be in light comedy.

The engagement is limited to seven weeks.

Alexander Woollcott: "Not in ten years has Mrs. Fiske seemed in finer fettle."

Heywood Broun: "Extraordinary performance."

John Corbin: "An altogether gay and fortunate occasion."