THE THEATRE
so happens that this week has presented me with an opportunity seeing two plays, separated in time by three hundred years, on e same theme, that of a man selling his soul to the devil. Mr. ugene O'Neill, who has proved himself to be the most consistently [cresting of contemporary American dramatists, calls his Days *thout End a " modern miracle play," and it is notable that the er playwright is less ruthlessly logical than the Elizabethan larlowe. O'Neill draws a vivid and affecting portrait of a sceptical ist who questions all values outside the reality of his own nature. s sceptic, John, is writing an autobiographical novel, in the ei ..urse of which he makes the novelist sacrifice his wife merely use he feels that it is in his nature to neglect her so utterly pursuit of his own self-realisation that she will inevitably die. ut even his faith in himself is not absolute, so O'Neill gives him n. alter ego which stands for his pure self, uncontaminated by y love. for another. This most inward self is his evil spirit, or vil, and impersonated by an actor, is yet not supposed to be isible to the other characters in the play, but to reach them merely s the sub-conscious voice of John—what the actor says the others agine to be uttered by John. This device is not used with omplete success, it demands more subtlety than O'Neill has given t; but Mr. Trevor, who acted the part, did his best with it and ade the illusion largely acceptable. In the course of the play is real, most inward self of John gets the upper hand, after a nflict which O'Neill knows how to make dramatically very ffective and moving ; but at the last moment O'Neill lets him repent,
d the wife's life and the man's soul are both saved. But we in e audience are moved to ask, " Where was there a soul to save? "
Marlowe was more consistent. Dr. Faustus is damned, and no
ast-moment conversion or repentance can save him because he is amned 'in his own nature as was O'Neill's hero, sacrificed by the matist to a sentimental ending. Marlowe's play is more amusing,
Cl ore relieved by variety than O'Neill's—to say nothing of its assages of magnificent poetry. But both were well acted and
id i.roduced. Renee Bourne-Webb and Mary Newcombe played their
r scene together beautifully. This was- the best moment of the play. Professionals usually have a poise and assurance' which school- boys cannot attain, but the boys of Aldenham School showed that they had been well-trained and thoroughly rehearsed. P. H. Newman's Faustus was excellent, developing quite the right intensity. I liked E. Batterham's Wagner, and J. G. Dawe's lively and effective Robin could hardly have been bettered by a mature actor. The settings in excellent taste, designed by G. Heilbut, were constructed and painted by members of the school, who also were responsible for the music (including some admirable singing), and the printing of the programme at the school press. Altogether a most stimulating corporate 'effort on the part of Aldenham School and a model to others. When treated in this way our' English dramatic literature, becomes a living and inspiring subject for study.
JAMES REDPERN.
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