New Play in Manhattan

Speak of the Devil (produced by the Everyman Theatre). Johann Wolfgang von Goethe must have turned in his grave last week when his immortal Faust was produced under the title Speak of the Devil. Then again, he may have been delighted it was not called Faust.

For the Everyman Theatre made no effort to give Goethe's masterpiece the least shred of dignity or meaning. With a leering eye on the box office, it resurrected the Urfaust, that youthful first draft which Goethe himself threw into the wastebasket, and made it the basis for most of the play. To exploit its elephantine slapstick and bawdry, the Everyman sold its own soul to Hellzapoppin: threw in wisecracks about F. D. R., created the impression of medieval monks doing the shag, started a Yale cheer, thought up lines like "Calling all angels." The result was a muddled farce which might well have been titled Getting Goethe's Garter.

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