Sta,—I am given to understand from well-informed sources that a
forthcoming play at the Royal Court Theatre drags us further down into the cultural mire in which apparently the English theatre is now wallowing.
I am credibly informed that the plot of this play concerns a series of murders (including an attempted infanticide) all committed for the re- tention of power by a weak-willed half-insane man egged on by his ambitious wife. During the course of the play the murderer sees the ghost of his victim. There is much play on an obscure gynae- cological point on which the plot of the play rests and the play is concluded with a murder on stage.
There is an unpleasant scene where blood is sprinkled upon servants in order to throw suspicion upon them, the blasphemous and obscene low- comedy part of the porter reaches (I am told) new depths of depravity but, worst of all, I am assured that the play opens with the retailing of recipes for various witchcraft rites. Surely no fit recital for those who have just dined?
What is the English theatre coming to when such muck (I can use no other word) finds its way on to the boards?
Surely this is a case for Mrs Mary Whitehouse if not indeed for the Lord Chamberlain?
JOHN ROBINSON
21 Rumbold Road, London, SW6
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