New Play in Manhattan

Earl Carroll's Sketch Book, with no more Broadway openings promised until August, officially rings out the 1934-35 theatre season with lots of fuss, little fun. This year's Carrolling is supposed to represent in 50 scenes a U. S. chorine's idea of her nation's past. The doll-voices of a bevy of "the most beautiful girls in the world" inaugurate this motif by squealing in unison:

Now bear with me and you shall see

Our little book of history. . . .

The "hysterical historical" sketches begin with George Washington discussing a radio broadcast about to be made by Martha, whom he keeps calling Eleanor. The opening of Annapolis serves as a background for a performing chow dog named Red Dust which comes in draped around a lady's neck like a fur piece and is, thereafter, in a state of almost continual collapse. Abraham Lincoln is master of ceremonies in a scene on the banks of the Potomac in 1865 which features a uniformed tenor singing "There's Moonlight in a Kiss" to a girl in crinoline. When President McKinley manifests an interest in Hawaiian music, one Bert Lynn favors with some plaintive strumming on his patented device known as the Vibrolynn.

The most notable feature of this cockeyed production is that its skits and blackouts represent a definite progression in revue humor from the bedroom to the bathroom, a metamorphosis illustrated nowhere better than in the Wild West poker game which revolves around a bottle of Pluto Water. Unchanged and unchanging, however, are the Carroll girls. As pretty and as hussy as ever, they bring their erotism a bit closer to the bald-headed row this year by pulling off their garters, tossing them to nearby spectators.

Worst joke: "I'm St. Peter's brother, Salt Peter." Best tune: "Let's Swing It."

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