New Plays

Cradle Snatchers--A flip and riggish comedy appeared last week and seems to have caught the people's fancy. It is a boisterous piece, offensive to those of temperate taste, and probably very funny to the rest.

Three moderately middle-aged women discover that their husbands are finding fun away from the family fireside, and decree retaliation. They hire three healthy and ingenuous college youths to force their husbands' jealousy. To acquaint themselves with these young men they arrange a house party at Glen Cove (where orderly house parties are normally the rule). The young men, somewhat puzzled by the exact extent of their duties, decide to earn their money thoroughly. By the time the husbands arrive dresses are torn, shoes are off, and hair is all unpinned. The situation is complicated by the presence of three young ladies with whom the husbands hoped to spend the same week-end at the same house.

Mary Boland is the chief actress, she who made so much of Meet the Wife. Her performance seemed a trifle blatant, possibly only in comparison with the skillful hilarity of Edna May Oliver. The three boys, especially Humphrey Bogart, contributed highly entertaining performances.

Outside Looking In--The first good play of the season was inscribed with the signature of Maxwell Anderson. Mr. Anderson had a play two seasons back which he called White Desert (TIME, Oct. 29, 1923) and which he watched fold up after a brief two weeks with some regret; it was a good play. Then he wrote What Price Glory (TIME, Sept. 15, 1924) with Laurence Stallings, and found himself rapidly rich and at once a notable. Outside Looking In is the first play from either, or both, of their pens subsequently.

The present play was born between the pages of Beggars of Life, a hobo biography by Jim Tully. Mr. Anderson borrowed the characteristics of Mr. Tully's dusty nomads and one of his incidents to make a narrative. It is the story of a child of bitter misfortune, a girl seduced by her stepfather and driven by circumstances into a disorderly house. When she had earned a snatch of leisure and money for the trip, she paid a visit to the family, leaving the house unceremoniously, and its owner shattered with lead pistol-slugs.

The play opens on a barren near a railroad grade. Into the assembly of tramps awaiting the evening freight come the girl and a stubby red-headed youth, who has elected to assist her flight from justice. Two savage tramps fall in love with her; detectives pick up the trail and the second act is played in a box car of the westering freight. The stubby redhead protects her from the tramps, finally winning their admiration, and their aid in a getaway across the Border.

The gusty psychology of tramp life, the cruelty and the laughter, the denial of the lot of man to work --these are the themes. It is not a pretty play nor is its dialog courteously scented. It seems a true play, strong and sound. It is charged with the vigor of an engrossing humor.

Unfortunately the girl's part is grossly underplayed by Blyth Daly. But little Red and Big Red, one of the savages, are brought magnificently to life by James Cagney and Charles A. Bickford. The rest of the cast is generally excellent. Such a play and such a performance you will not see many times in this or any season.

Captain Jinks--It lilted and it looked well. But its laughter was rather lean. Time was when Captain Jinks was a straight comedy by Clyde Fitch, and Ethel Barrymore first occupied herself as a star in its performance. It has been adapted out of all semblance to the original. It is very modern and replete with the Charleston and many pretty girls.

The piece unwinds a tale of a French actress come to the U. S. to conquer. By birth she came from Trenton, N. J. She is met at the dock by a handsome captain of Marines. Later he is disturbed by tales of her liaison with the King of Westphalia, untruths cooked up by the press agent to make her a celebrity.

Louise Brown, Joe E. Brown, J. Harold Murray and Marion Sunshine are the leaders of the evening. Miss Sunshine seems the best. Matter of dancing is skillfully managed. Matter of music likewise. The lack of laughter is a noticeable detriment.

Canary Dutch--David Belasco began his season with an oldtimer, a play saved these many years for David Warfield. Since Mr. Warfield has elected not to perform any more, the role fell to Willard Mack, who also wrote the play. On this occasion, he seemed better actor than author.

His play deals with an aged counterfeiter who has unfortunately been apprehended at his trade and awarded a great many years in prison. When he reappears his main point in life is to keep the bad news from daughter--even to the extent of slaughter (of anyone telling her).

Mr. Belasco, as usual, collected an exceptionally competent supporting cast, competent scenery and a competent imitation of a canary in the wings. If you are not too disrespectful of sentimentality, you may enjoy Canary Dutch.

The Dagger--Each year seems to bring forth one or two dramas of the Parisian underworld in which the hero is a wicked Apache with a heart of gold, and the girl on the streets with a good excuse. In between times Nazimova usually plays the same thing for the cinema.

In the current version most of the usual things happen, including the Apache dance. Ralph Morgan and Sara Sothern gave performances well in excess of the merits of their parts.

Love's Call was described as a drama of primitive passions in Mexico. So primitive did these passions turn out to be, as literature, that the audience was amused instead of thrilled. The play was set down as one of the annual half dozen so bad that they burlesque themselves. Galina Kopernak played the lead.

All Dressed up--Scopolamin, dramatized, provided a fairly entertaining evening. In case you do not recognize the name, the drug is a "truth serum" (TIME, July 9, 1923, MEDICINE). Testing criminals is its usual forte. In All Dressed Up it tested a family party at dinner. The young man, in love with the daughter but somewhat backward in his advances, became a man of the cave world; a wealthy manufacturer became an evil tyrant; a butler became a man of fashion. Norman Trevor was the leading man, agreeably enough. Taken as a whole the play seems an excellent idea, insufficiently developed.