7 JUNE 1946, Page 11

THE THEATRE

"The Winslow Boy." By Terence Rattigan. At the Lyric Theatre.

To say that The Winslow Boy is a dramatisation of the Archer- Shee case is to repeat what is already well-known ; it is also to do Mr. Rattigan less than justice. His play is in effect an essay on the British character. Because he is a very skilful playwright, it is an absorbing essay, and very exciting and entertaining as well ; but in applying his skill (of which he is properly conscious) he betrays rather than reveals a depth of perspective which should entitle his comments on the British of the twentieth century to such immor- tality as the theatre can afford them.

The period is the Iwo's. Ronnie Winslow, a cadet 13 years old, is expelled from Osborne for stealing, and forging another cadet's name on, a five-shillings postal order. His father, a retired banker, is convinced of his innocence and embarks on a single-handed, single-minded crusade to have the boy's name cleared. The odds are heavily in favour of the Board of Admiralty, and before long a stage is reached at which to pursue this forlorn hope any further must in effect ruin the Winslow family. But its head refuses to admit defeat, and in the end—thanks largely to the altruistic inter- vention of a brilliant advocate—the stubborn individual wins his battle against a tyrant bureaucracy and right is done.

Mr. Winslow's tenacity of purpose is the backbone of the play, and it is very clearly and justly anatomised. This pattern of the Bulldog Breed hangs on for one reason only—because he knows that his cause is just and because he refuses to believe that his country will allow a great wrong, to go unrighted. He strikes no attitudes. He does not invoke influence, he makes no appeal to luck. Disenchanted but undismayed, alone in a hostile or apathetic world, Mr. Winslow will not give in.

Alone? No, not quite alone, for he has his family's support, and in their characters Mr. Rattigan broadens his study of the Bulldog . Breed. Mrs. Winslow, though her heart is warm and loyal, is not really much help, for she is shallow and foolish. Dickie, the elder boy, lends a cheerful and feckless hand, but hardly—since he is well prepared to believe his brother guilty—claims the status of a crusader. The daughter, Catherine, is her father's chief ally, and indeed sacrifices to the cause a fiancé whose well-bred defection is a beautifully timed reminder that the British have been known to appease. Finally, of course, there is Sir Robert Morton, a K.C. at first thought to be too fashionable for Kensington, and the mis- judged cadet, but proving in The end to possess a heart as golden as his tongue is silver. Sir Robert belongs to the theatre and is of inestimable value to the play ; but he does not deepen, as do the humbler characters, our insight into the national character.

The whole play is brilliantly contrived, and the acting is up to the writing. Mr. Frank Cellier's Bulldog is an engaging as well as an impressive animal, Mr. Emlyn Williams discharged the K.C.'s fireworks with compelling suavity and Miss Angela Baddeley, as the Winslow girl, carries a great deal of the play on her back with great charm and skill. There is a particularly deft study of the family solicitor by Mr. Clive Morton ; Mr. Michael Newell has no trouble in winning our sympathies for the wronged cadet, and Miss Kathleen Harrison can never irrupt too often from the servants' hall.

One n- nor criticism. The big scene shows the K.C. examining the boy as a hostile witness. The boy falters, seems to incriminate himself, and breaks down ; the K.C. (for reasons afterwards fully and fairly explained) thereupon accepts the brief. I believe this . scene has a warrant in history, that something like this did happen in the Archer-Shee case. But surely Ronnie Winslow, here por-

trayed as an upright, uncomplicated boy, would have reacted as well, if not better, to gentler handling? Sir Robert's object being to get at the truth, one cannot help feeling that in this case a recon- naissance would have achieved as much as a full-scale attack. But then Sir Robert would have enjoyed himself less ; and so, if it comes