Variety (December 1907)

12 VARIETY HIS TERRIBLE SECRET. The man who wrote this latest Charles E. Blaney outrage has an instinct for searching out the weaknesses of the rabble that would have made him a fortune as a medicine-show fakir. He has discovered in this instance that a street accident and an ambulance attract a morbidly curious mob, and therefrom he draws the shrewd conclusion that the crowd has a taste for horrors. Tis this same taste, he argues, which drags them irresistibly to gloat over Ruber's snake-charmer, dog-faced boy, double-beaded girl, "Rosco," and the rest of the gruesome catalogue of monstrosities. Having reached this highly original deduc- tion he proceeds to turn it to his own ac- count with the usual facility of the skillful hack. Hie net result of these mental processes is "His Terrible Secret," or "The Man- Monkey"—the dramatization of an offen- sive dime museum freak, a debauch of chilly creeps, "scene-chewing" and a crucifixion of good taste. It played at the American Theatre last week, and is doubtless mak- ing shekels and corrupting the public sense of the proprieties in some other community now. Mr. Blaney knows his audiences. The piece may make money, the hectic "piper" will almost assure that, and at the end of the season he will probably be able to point to his box office statements for vindication. Peace to his conscience. Melmoth (William Turner) is ITS name. When ITS mother "was in a deli- cate condition" (such is the chaste lan- guage of the dialogue) ITS father was mangled by a gorilla in the African jungle, and this untoward incident worked so strongly upon the mother's mind that IT was born with the outward sem- blance of an ape, but the "soul of an angel and a heart of gold"—a creature as gro- tesquely impossible as a cerise giraffe. IT loves Lucy Sinclair (Edith Teager), bis foster-father's daughter (you will re- member that his natural parent's body was never found after that gorilla incident), with a deep and burning passion that IT dares not whisper except in frequent stage asides. Lucy returns this love only in sisterly regard for his soul and heart, hav- ing given ner heart of hearts to Harry Waring (Allen Bennett), an American civil engineer and first assistant hero, IT, of course, being hero extraordinary and pleni- potentiary. Jack Williams and Joseph Dermody do a buck dance in the first act, and in their small "comedy relief way work on the hero staff, together with Dickey Darling- ton (Ted Lytell) and Fanny (Letty Holmes), the soubrette, who has a change of costume for every "situation." The forces of evil are represented by Sir Beverly Brenton, an English nobleman (Richard Earle), with a lawless love for Lucy, and a devilish scheme to do away with Melmoth and steal his heritage, a mysterious gold mine of fabulous richness. He is aided in his machinations by Rod- erick Henderson, simply but adequately described as "his accomplice." Hender- son's motives for assisting in the villainy are vague, and bis relish for "dirty work" correspondingly lukewarm. In th«» evil department is also Salome (Mary Condon), an Egyptian maid with an amazing fluency of language. Without stretching a single point one might include in the same class the American Theatre orchestra, who did unutterable things to Harry Lauder's delightful Scotch ballads between acts. Of course, the plot concerns itself with the pursuit of Lucy by Sir Beverly; his temporary undoing by Providence and the hero-staff up to his final and conclusive ex- tinguishment by Melmoth with much busi- ness of stage fight in the last act. The real climax comes at the end of the second act (there are four). Driven from home by Sir Beverly, who has murdered Lucy's father, Lucy and IT are hiding in the jungle. Waring finds them, and to all intents and purposes takes Lucy to a safe refuge in Cairo, leaving IT to mourn alone in the wild solitude. Thither comes Sir Beverly, captures Melmoth and seeks to force him by torture to divulge the secret of the gold mine. But Lucy unexpectedly returns, only to fall into the clutches of the designing Sir Beverly, who now seeks to barter her "honor" for the mining property, with the "man-monkey" neatly trussed up and im- notently hurling defiance and curses in 10,- 000 lots at his enemy. When all seems lost Waring returns with a detachment of Egyptian soldiers. There is a fine, noisy hand-to-hand battle, and although the combatants stand close enough to touch each other there are no casualties. To be sure it was only the end of the second act, but they might have spared one or two of the minor sub-vil- lains. The Sir Beverly party is defeated and his lordship placed under arrest by the soldiers. Imagine the surprise of the audience, therefore, when, at the opening of the third act, Melmoth is discovered chained up in the "booby-hatch" in the military prison at Cairo, and Sir Beverly strides in jaunt- ily and upon terms of almost indecent in- timacy with the local authorities. This sudden shift of fortune remains unex- plained. Melmoth, however, regains his liberty, in a scene "lifted" bodily from "Monte Cristo," even to a transformation, tion. All of this was vain, for the plot had gone the limit of bloodshed and firearms at the end of the second act and the rest was comparatively tame. If Blaney wanted to sustain interest to the end, he should never have allowed himself to reach the top of his swing at 9:45. That's prop- ably what's the matter with the piece. Ted Lytell and Letty Holmes furnished a few minutes' diversion in the last act with a song, a dance and a bit of trav- estied melodrama. This last suggested the gilding of the lily. The whole proceed- ings were travesty enough without piling on the burlesque. The production is excellently staged by James R. Garey, who receives bigger type on the program than Blaney and de- serve* it. If Blaney is looking for dime museum subjects to exploit and is not captious about them, he is overlooking a good bet. There are several medical museums about town, and there he might find material for a dramatization of the visible manifesta- tions of scrofula. Prince Kokin, the Japanese juggler, sailed on Wednesday from London, and will arrive here early next week. He opens at K. A E.'s Auditorium, Chicago, Dec. 16, coming later to the New York. NEW YORK HIPPODROME. It may have been a coincidence, but the second night after the opening of the latest show produced at the Hippodrome, the sign outside the building which usually reads with the aid of electricity, "HIPPO- DROME ; Greater Than Ever," said sim- ply "HIPPODROME," the "Greater Than Ever" declining to shine. Whether the sign is an unconscious critic, or whether the management held back the fluid through regard for the truth is not known, but that electric sign out- side the big amphitheatre told the story. "The Auto Race" is not "greater than ever"; it is not even "great." And it is not even an "Auto Race." There is no race at all. The billing leads everyone to expect large results in the way of sensa- tionalism on the mammoth Hippodrome stage. One hears the chug-chug of the machines, imagines they go tearing on and off the stage, and knowing the possibilities of that stage believes something is going to happen—that is, before the curtain goes up. Six touring cars, a large sight-seeing coach, three auto racers and twelve mount- ed policemen, beside nearly 100 people on foot are on the stage when the start of the race is made. The finish is in a darkened house, with headlights on the machines shining, distance being aimed for in the perspective. Then one machine, with Mor- celine driving, moves timidly down to the footlights, the curtain descending amidst a dead calm. It is the same as though a giant fire- cracker turned out to be "sizzler." With the disappointment of what was supposed to be, and should be, the main feature of the new Hippodrome show, the first act is the best of the three. There is more life to it; the cohorts of men and women are handled better, and were it not for the disillusioning that comes with the "Race" which isn't, there would be suffi- cient enjoyment in the opening to carry the show. "The Auto Race" has a story, written or placed together by Manuel Klein and Ed- ward P. Temple, two Hippodrome fixtures who remained after the producer of such spectacles as the Hippodrome is capable of had left. The theme, plot, tale or story is absurdly simple. It is not sufficient to bring to- gether the different threads upon which the songs, ballets and manoeuvres are hung; but it does serve to spoil and dispel any impression remaining that Marceline is funny, even though his name is spelled in italics on the program for emphasis. Marceline has been given a "part"; he is "an actor," and "The Auto Race" is probably his finish as a funny man. His clownish make-up remains; he falls about the stage, but there is not enough humor left in Marceline to cause a laughing hyena to smile. The comedian seems to be John G. Sparks, cast as the Sergeant in command of a dozen or so grotesquely padded-out foot policemen. Mr. Sparks manages to be comical in his comic-paper costume, when in movement or at rest. A drill by thirty-two cadets or Zouaves in quick time during the first act was a big hit. Other than the increased number, the act is similar to the many troupes which have appeared in vaudeville, con- cluding with wall-scaling, the "wall" being dragged onto the stage by four horses. In the second act the circus numbers appear on a prettily set green lawn of a country house, the grass running up a ter- race, above which is a walk wide enough for autos to pass over. The lawn accom- modates a regulation circus ring, and Hagenbeck's herd of twelve elephants gives an exhibition on it, showing a fine degree of training. The Seven Grunathos, from the Barnum- Bailey Circus, and the Six Bonesettis ap- pear in their acrobatic acts, along with the Five Cliffords (New Acts). Daisy Hodgini, "jockey act," and some "Diabolo" players as well as the Mirza-Golem Troupe (all under New Acts). The vaudeville of, the show is liked, and has been well selected. Immediately after comes the only catchy song and "number" in the piece, "Starlight Maid." The elec- trical effects in this are by Charles De Soria, and if he is responsible for the light effects, Mr. De Sofia is a master in the manipulation of colored lights. "Four-Seasons" is the coupled-name of the piece and the third act. Spring, Sum- mer, Autumn and Winter; each tiresome in its turn, and what might have been a nov- elty in the Winter scene is ruined through a lack of originality, something entirely ab- sent from the production throughout. There is nothing new in this Hippodrome show. It plays as though someone with a tired feeling had said to his subordinates "All right; go ahead, suit j'ourself," and they did, but aimed to suit no one else. The waits are wearisome; the audience no longer allowed to watch the stage crew at work, and a new curtain with deadly, dull scenes painted on it, the only solace between the acts. If "The Auto Race" draws business it will be because it is in the Hippodrome; it won't be talked about. Rime. McNULTY DOESN'T KNOW. Does the purchase of the furnishings, lease, and compliance with all the require- ments regarding the conduct of a first- class hotel entitle the owner to conduct it? is the question being propounded by Michael McNulty, who ran the Metropoli- tan, and more latterly the Saranac. Mr. McNulty isn't sure. He is nominal- ly the proprietor of Super's Hotel, Bath Beach, which he opened last Sunday, hav- ing purchased it at auction. Tuesday night a crowd of twenty-five roughs came into the hotel, told Mr. Mc- Nulty that Henry Siefert was the proper boniface for Super's, and threw him igno- miniously out. The police, armed with a warrant for the intruders, installed "Mac," but still "Mac" isn't sure just what is coming off. When the police turned the band into the street, they left a choice collection of dangerous weapons behind. McNulty says that, while they (the "25") put himself and an assistant in the streets without even their overcoats, his watch was not taken, and that's something to be thank- ful for. Siefert's claim to possession appears to be an option obtained by him at some time in the past upon the lease of the place, but physical force was resorted to to uphold his alleged rights, instead of the courts, where the matter will be set- tled. The case against the crowd of roughs was placed for trial in the Coney Island Police Court for yesterday morning.