26 OCTOBER 1945, Page 11

THE THEATRE

-King Oedipus " and "The Critic." At the New Theatre.

AN extraordinary outburst in the London Press of what Matthew Arnold would have called " provincialism " has greeted the brilliant "Old Vic" company's production of Sophocles' Oedipus. My col- leagues, it seems, are not moved by this tragedy because they know there is such a thing as free-will and are, forsooth, not ancient Greeks dominated by a conception of an over-ruling Fate. And they proclaim their indifference to this play of predestination under the banner of Christianity. Shades of Dante and Calvin, spectres of Jonathan Edwards and Kierkegaard, ghosts of Rome and New England—to say nothing of Dr. Karl Barth—what are we to think of such nonsense! I am certain that the majority of the audience each night at the New Theatre, which has seen in its own lifetime millions of men and women compelled by no choice of their own into actions and a way of life over which they I.ave had no control, will not take this view. No, on the contrary, they are likely to appreciate fully the awful spectacle of majestic and inescapable ruin which this great tragedy presents in such sublime and incomparable force. It must be added that the acting lives up to the theme. Laurence Olivier gives to his doomed King the same tremendous force that made his Richard III so spectacular, and the Tiresias of Ralph Richardson stands up to his performance, just as the same actor's Harry Richmond did to Olivier's Richard. The setting by John Piper is magnificently right and so are the dresses. The pro- duction by M. ,St. Denis is generally successful, even in the difficult matter of the choruses, which were more impressive and audible than is customary. These choruses are always a problem, and I wonder the attempt is not made to have them delivered by a single speaker with an accompaniment in dumb show by the non-speakers.

After a decent interval, a brilliant production of The Critic relieves the tenseness of the audience. In it Mr. Miles Malleson is at his best, and Mr. Olivier as Puff is as light and sparkling as he is grandly granitic as Oedipus. I do not think this juxtaposition a mistake. Either Oedipus must be given alone or some strong contrast Is called for. This is a combination no playgoer should