Variety (January 1956)

Wednesday, January 4, 1956 LEGITIMATE 473 Karlweis Warns Yankees Against Author, Actor Sloppiness in Berlin By HANS HOEHN Berlin. Carrying on as second-best, it may be that the legit of West Ber¬ lin (six theatres) has developed two sloppy postwar habits: (1) foreign plays are given to the of¬ fice boy to adapt, and (2) the Ger¬ man actors ad lib vaudeville-type gags of their own in the midst of plot. Such American comedies as “Teahouse,” “Itch,” “Kiss and Tell” and “Moon Is Blue” have been popular, the more so as no German playwright has managed to be very funny, possibly due to the traumatic after-effects of the Hitler environment. Although a familiar figure in earlier years and no newcomer to Berlin. Oscar Karlweis was dis¬ tinctly shocked during the fall by the amateur scripting of imported hits and issued a warning, through this writer, that American Drama¬ tists Guild members not make cas¬ ual royalty arrangements for West Berlin. Karlweis made his own translation of “Teahouse of the August Moon,” a smash hit here. He cited “My Three Angels” and “Lady in the Dark” as examples of unsatisfactory renderings into the German tongue. He comments tartly on the “predilection for im¬ provisation” which has grown up backstage. Nothing of the sort would be tolerated in New York or London. Kaethe Dorsch and Ernest Deutsch, each on own, and each now 65, rate as the first lady and first gentleman of the truncated legit of a truncated city. ELIHU (G.O.P.) ROOT WAS A CRITIC! By ROBERT DOWNING Any doubt that George Jean Nathan is dean of American drama critics will be dispelled for read¬ ers studying the 1955 Theatre An¬ nual’s “Dictionary of Drama Critics, 1850-1910.” Nathan, who began analyzing drama for the N. Y. Herald in 1905, is the only practicing reviewer on the Albert E. Johnson-W. H. Crain Jr. list. Surprise entry is Elihu Root, who reviewed for the N. Y. Sun 1870-74. Root was assistant drama editor to his law partner, Willard Bartlett, who preferred covering shows at Wallack’s and the per¬ formances of Edwin Booth, leaving his junior associate the happy duty of reporting the charms of Lydia Thompson, then starring in “Humpty Dumpty” with George L. Fox. Producers dabbling in dramatic criticism included Augustin Daly (N. Y. Sunday Courier, 1860; N. Y. Express, 1864; N. Y. Sun, 1866; N. Y. Times & Weekly Citizen, 1864-7); Charles Dillingham (N. Y. Evening Sun, 1890), and Harrison Grey Fiske, producer-director-hus¬ band of Minnie Maddern Fiske (Jersey City Argus, N. Y. Star, and N. Y. Dramatic Mirror, circa 1879). Playwrights were also critics: Bronson Howard (assistant to Charles Sweetland on The Round Table); Channing Pollock (Wash¬ ington Post, 1898; Washington Times, 1889-1900; Ainslee’s, Smart Set and Green Book, 1905-19; founder and publisher, The Show, 1906; p. a. for William. A. Brady, 1900-04; for the Shuberts, 1904-06); and: Hutchins Hapgood (N.Y. Com¬ mercial Advertiser and The Book¬ man, 1897-1902; editor, Harper’s Weekly, 1913-16; Hearst’s Interna¬ tional, 1923-5; Collier’s, 1902-12). Eugene Field and Earl Derr Biggers were prominent authors who made the drama critics list. Field worked on St. Louis and St. Joseph papers, was later managing editor of the K. C. Times and the Denver Tribune. In 1883, he joined the Chicago Daily News and began his “Sharps and Flats” column, containing observations on the stage. 1955 Theatre Annual also con¬ tains “The Right to Dissent for the American Dramatist” by John T. Dugan; “A 10th Century Margaret Webster” by Rosemary Sprague; production notes on “Henry VI, Part 2” by James Sandce, and “Finances of an 18th Century The¬ atre” by Emmet L. Avery. Blanche A. Corin continues as editor. Golden Jubilee P^RIETY 50th Anniversary Clipping the Wings of the Turkeys Or the Death of the Old \ Road 5 By EPES W. SARGENT It was shortly before 1890 that Marc Klaw and Abraham Lincoln Erlanger opened their theatre booking agency. That in itself was a vital stride forward. Up until the middle ’80’s each manager had to come to New York in the summer to book attractions for his theatre, running from this office to that and digging out the smaller fry in their cubbyholes in the lithograph printers. They went back home with, their books fairly well dated up. If a company closed it meant digging up another attraction somehow, somewhere. John J. Cole¬ man had an office where he represented a few southern houses. Will A. McConnell also had a representation, but not until Klaw and Erlanger was it possible to book a season’s attractions in one spot. It com¬ pletely altered the business methods of the dramatic theatres. Then in 1892 B. F. Keith brought to New York the clean continuous performance idea he had inaugurated in Boston. Tony Pastor beat him to the clean show, and F. F. Proctor had anticipated the continuous angle. Keith always used the word “stole” when speaking of the Proc¬ tor setup. But it was the Keith entry which gave a spurt to the idea because J. Austin Fynes, his resident manager, and Sam K. Ilodgdon, who booked the Boston house, managed to control the bookings and make the Keith house a better bargain than the Proctor shows. He set the pace for the country, with Percy G. Williams coming along and setting up a different style of two-a-day in his New York and Brooklyn houses. It was in 1895 that motion pictures were announced to become a permanent attraction in vaudeville houses. Lyman B. Howe toured the country with a few reels and a carload of sound effects. By 1905 Klaw & Erlanger were beginning to feel their power. They were autocrats instead of agents. They could save a poor show by forcing dates. They could kill the best shows with poor routes. B. F. Keith had forced through the booking office, originally, the idea of Pat Shea, of Springfield, Mass., and Jo Paige Smith, of Wilson & Smith, booking agents. Everyone of importance was in except Williams who later had to go in. The burlesque wheels were in the making, and were cleaning up their shows. They were building their appeal with smarter shows, better production and were making the comedians be funny rather than dirty. The once despised burlesque had its face washed and in many spots was on its way to $1.50 top. Sam Scribner, L. Lawrence | Webber, Harry Morris and others of their class realized that better shows meant bigger money. | _ Flo ZiegfelcTB Start _ . _ [ Florenz Ziegfeld had worked into the business following the Colum¬ bian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, and had gotten the idea of his “Follies” Which was nothing more than a burlesque show on a productional scale almost beyond the comprehension of the old timers. The drama was doing nicely with the plays of Clyde Fitch, James M. Barrie, Arthur Wing Pinero, David Belasco and the elder William de Mille, W. H. Gillette, with Owen Davis and his ilk supplying the Hash melodramas that kept the smaller combination houses alive. Every town of appreciable size had its permanent stock company, with the entire troupe stars so far as the villagers were concerned. It was the heyday of the stage. ' _ | Then Came Films _ _ _ [ Then came the picture theatre, offering three one-reel subjects for a nickel, shortly going to a dime. In their 50 and 100 foot lengths it was not a simple matter to hold patronage or to advertise success¬ fully, but with the accidental success of “The Great Train Robbery” the answer to that problem was found. But it was not in the rapid growth of these houses that the menace was greatest. The strongest influence of the picture was to educate the rural patrons to a better grade of acting than could be had from the one-night stand troupes which then afforded the tanks their only dramatic division. In the face of increasingly good casting and better direction, the yokels became dissatisfied with the brand of acting supplied them. They turned from the “East Lynne” and “Uncle Tom” troupes. Even “St. Elmo” when it finally escaped the shackles of copyright was not a draw for more than the first time around. It was impossible for the tankers, with their small casts costing between $200 and $300 a week to compete with Mary Pickford (then known only as “Little Mary”), Florence Lawrence, Jim Kirkwood and Maurice Costello. The turkeys had their wings clipped. Presently they ceased to fly. The former constituency knew them for the hams most of them were. The road show of the better type fared better, though there were mutterings about No. 2 casts and one or two state legislatures cpnsidered bills making it a felony to advertise “with the original New York cast” without producing the • original actors. The bills never passed, but they showed the temper of the times. Then came the war. Munitions trains sidetracked the theatrical troupes. There was a lack of rolling stock, and presently the Govern¬ ment took over the railroads and not only raised the rates but turned a deaf ear to the appeals of the companies for the old “rates.” No longer could a car be moved on 25 tickets, bought at reduced fare, and if the troupe carried more than the 150 pounds of baggage per person, the rest was excess, for no longer was a 60-1'oot express car tossed in. Sometimes it was impossible to obtain a car even by paying the current high prices. When peace came it did not bring peace to the theatrical companies. Rates were still up. Cars were still scarce, arid the railroads, still under Government management, were not competing for business. No concessions were given, and things were tough. It was a discouraging state of affairs. Many houses were converted into picture houses, partly because of labor troubles but also because it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the home constantly lighted through the season. The overheads were larger than receipts. When it became increasingly difficult to obtain shows, it drove more houses over to pictures and that, in its turn, made it more difficult for shows to book routes. The road was dead. (From Variety, May 5, 1922) ‘The Hairy Ape’-Best Cursing On Stage Another Sample of the Classic Jack Conway (Con) Slanguage Style Dear Chic: ( Hop right over to the Plymouth and get a load of “The Hairy Ape” before they back in and take the joint. There’s a bird named (Louis) Wolheim plays the lead and he sure is one tough citizen. The plot shows this egg as a big hardboiled coal-heaver on an ocean liner. His name is Robert Smith and he is gorillin’ all the other stokers and handlin’ things to suit himself until he runs into a broad who changes his whole outlook. Up to the time he meets the wren this guy Smith has the world by the ears. He thinks he and his gang are the salt of the earth and that they are runnin’ the world by the sweat of their greasy pans. Smith and his tribe belong but the rest of the non-manual animals are all applesauce. If Smith & Co. stop passin coal and laborin, the whole world stops. Among the stokers there’s a limey socialist and a Liverpool Irishman, both with a grouch against their environment. The limey preaches the usual socialis¬ tic routine against capitalism and wealth and the Irishman bewails the passin’ of the clipper ships and the old order that had to sidestep for the present greyhounds of the seas with their slimy stokeholes, and boiler rooms. Smith shuts them both up| tellin’ them they’re a couple of yellow bums and that instead of being downtrodden they are sittin on the world. The jane is a passenger on the ship, being chaperoned by her aunt. The young one has run out of thrills doin settlement work on the east side and is on her way to England to limehouse it a bit in Whitechapel. She’s one of them curious kind that you’ve met around the gong who knock over the lamp tryin’ to roll their own pills and then want the history of the grease from the time it wuz a poppy seed in China. She’s a fe¬ male oilcan and no mistake but her old man is president of the steel trust and a part owner of the steamship company so when she de¬ mands that they take her below and show her the stokehole there’s nothin to do but take the slap. The moll goes below and walks in on the tale end of a speech by Smith where he’s bawlin out the second engineer for pulling the whistle on the watch. Smith’s speech would make you close your eyes and think you was back in the back room of Johnny Phaelon’s with the boys hittin on all cylin¬ ders. He tells the second all about his ancestors and makes a few play¬ ful remarks about his religion. Hearin a step behind him, he turns to brain the officer with the shovel and stares into the frightened lamps of the millionaire kid. She takes a good look at the toughest baby she ever seen and lets out a shriek about him being an un¬ speakable beast whereupon the third engineer grabs her and hus¬ tles her out of there pronto. Smith throws the shovel at her as she exits but his control was bushy and he missed. Brute Force Back in the stokers’ fo’castle the gang kids Smith and tells him he’s fallin for the dame, when he makes them quit singin so he can think. This gets his goat for fair and he goes bersicker roarin out that he’s going topside to croak the broad. The mob leap on him and holds him down. The limey thinks he can rouse Smith’s class consciousness and takes him to Fifth Ave. after the return o’er the big puddle, for a peak at how the bloated plutes live, after the ship docks. Smith wants to clean up for them and the limey takes the air. Smith runs into a flock of rich guys with their wom¬ en and tries to bawl them out but they don’t rumble him. This burns him up so he takes a sock at an old bird who hollers copper. They settled Smith for 30 sleeps on Blackwells. In the jug a guy listens to his story and reads him a vole-getting spiel by a U. S. Senator attackin the I.W.W. as a flock of bomb tossers and a menace to society. The eagle screams durin’ the speech about this great and glorious de¬ mocracy which gets a loud and raucous raspberry encore from the cons who are listenin’ to their pal read. Smith figures that’s the way to settle the broad so when he gets out of stir he joins the “wobblies” and offers to go right in the box in the bomb league and pitch against the steel works. For this he gets the bums rush after they tell him they are on the square and not bomb throwers. He lands out¬ side on the streets and is convinced that he don’t belong nowhere. He offices the moon to read him the riddle of the universe but draws a bull instead. He gets over the look that gal slipped him and the Irishman tellin him that she thought he was a hairy ape, that’s the reason she screamed and become frightened. He never met anyone like her before and he certainly hates her guts. The Squeeze Play J Wanderin up to the zoo, Smith cops a sneak on the keepers and hides after they lock the joint up when he goes to the gorilla’s egge and tells him his troubles. Smith propositions the ape tellin him that they will take a walk down Fifth Ave. but after he opens the cage the gorilla crosses him by squeezin him to death and walkin off. Smith is dyin in the cage. Even the ape didn’t think he belonged. The final curtain drops after Smith has dragged himself to a standin posi¬ tion by holdin on to the bars and strainin out a speech about “Ladies and gentlemen, step this way and see the only original hairy ape.” That’s the blowoff. A guy behind said, “Gee, that would make a corkin burlesque show and you could close with a monkey number. I think O’Neill is a sap if he don’t rewrite so that Smith can break into the dame’s palatial home and drag her up to the zoo With him. Anyways, Smith can roar louder than Henry Dixon and his cursin is the best I’ve heard since Prohibition. But the darne has the best of it all through; she’s home and in bed by 9:30 each night/ Comin out of the theatre all the peasants had a different version of i what it was all about and at the ORIGIN OF ‘TURKEY’ AND ‘ANNIE OAKLEYS’ The origin of the term turkey as applied to road attractions — and sometimes those on Broadway — has been explained in several versions. Most authentic is the word of the old showmen, who should know. Turkey shows were put on during times when bookings were as sparse as now or more so. When a theatre manager found he had no attraction booked in at Thanksgiving he would issue a call and throw on any kind of a per¬ formance. Actors would gamble, generally taking a percentage of the gate and all would be assured of a little holiday coin, perhaps enough to partake of a turkey din¬ ner with trimmings. Same pro¬ cedure applied to Christmas and New Year’s. It sometimes happened that such troupe would do well enough to last from Thanksgiving to Christmas. The expectation always was that if a show could get enough patron¬ age at Thanksgiving it could last until after the other turkey holi¬ day. The expression “Annie Oak¬ leys” as applied to free tickets to a show, has nearly become obso¬ lete. Annie Oakley was perhaps the greatest woman sharpshooter, or at least the first. To promote in¬ terest in subsequent performances Miss Oakley was supposed to shoot holes in a pair of tickets, tossed into the air. These tickets were given away by being thrown into the audience to some lucky grab¬ ber. Free ducats are generally punched, even now, although some theatres when extending courtesies give a complete ticket which is ac¬ counted for on a special form. In one chain separate slips with the location of the seats are given, the ticket itself never being given in part or whole to the persons per¬ mitted in without charge. last readin it was a tossup whether O’Neill is takin a backhanded slap at the caveman propaganda or whether he was fitting Wolheim with a vehicle that would scare Dempsey out of his title. As for your old sparrin partner all I’m worryin about is why don’t they dump in a load pf coal before I the realists begin to pay off? Don’t I muff it. Your old pal, Con.