THE THEATRE
A GALLANT EFFORT
[4. HENRY IV, PART II," BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AT STRATFORD-UPON-AVON.] WHEN the much-criticized Memorial Theatre at Sttatford was destroyed by fire, nearly a month ago, everyone, I think, imagined that the postponement of this year's Spring Festival was inevitable, everyone, that was, except Mr. Flower, the Chairman of the Council of Governors and Stratford's- indeed England's—good fairy. His spirit was unbroken by what must have heel?, to him, a particularly personal disaster. Aided by the loyal co-operation of the entire company and notably by Mr. Bridges Adams, its youthful but very able director, an astonishing miracle was performed. By working at high pressure and all through the night for three weeks, the Festival actually opened on the appointed evening. In the interval a local cinema had been converted into a very passable theatre, dressing rooms built in brick, scenery re- designed and constructed, dresses and costumes made, and six long plays rehearsed under incredibly difficult conditions. A great achievement. How differently we do things in the West End, where one little light comedy of no importance is postponed if the leading lady has a cold in the head or has mislaid her toy. dog-. No praise can be too high for what has been done at Stratford. " 0 give me the spare men and spare me the great ones," Falstaff says in this noble play of Henry IV. The gods who rule over the mysterious world known as the Theatre must—for once—have listened to his prayer. The Great Ones have, I doubt not, been prolific in headshakings and wise counsel during the course of the last month, but it is the spare men who have got the job done. In all the circumstances, the production was a good one. It was inevitably under-rehearsed, but by the end of the Festival, which lasts until May 15th, the rough_ patches will have been smoothed over. It would be interest-, ing to have Mr. Bridges Adams's honest opinion on one point. Has he obtained more vitality out of his professionals at Stratford than he did out of Undergraduates at Oxford in the remarkable O.U.D.S. production of a few months ago?
Judged by the performance I saw, which, with all its merits, was a little lacking in distinction, I doubt it. I liked Mr. Randle Ayrton's Falstaff. It was breezy and not without nobility, but it lacked just that touch of high quality in which young Mr. Speaight excelled so notably. Mr. George Skillan, always a sincere actor with the power to move one, was good as the dying King, but the best performance came from Mr. Wicksteed. His Shallow was in the right key and beyond criticism. Too many actors think this part an opportunity for comic and unrestrained fireworks. Mr. Wicksteed knew his place in the picture and kept to it. And once again Miss Esme Vernon (to whom I owe an apology for having suggested on a previous occasion that she was a "local amateur ") gave a beautiful little performance as Lady Percy. This young actress strikes me as having more talent than all the rest of the younger members of Mr. Bridges Adams's company put together. This year, of all years, I hope everyone will make a special effort to go to Stratford.
E. S. A.
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