THE B. AND S. DRAMA AT THE ADELPHI.
B-ch-n-n. "The prize from the lucky-bag"——
S-ms. "A blank?"
"Some one has blundered!" Who? The Messrs. Gatti, in sending to Messrs. Buchanan and Sims ("B. & S.") for an Adelphi melodrama? Surely not! These two might have been trusted to turn out the right article. So the Gattis leave the Court without a stain on their managerial character. Therefore, 'tis the brother-authors, "hoi Adelphoi," who have blundered. Undoubtedly. An Adelphi audience is not to be satisfied with a one-scene piece, when that scene is without any incident in it worth a melodramatic father's cuss. A fancy-dress ball at Covent Garden, however well put on the stage,—and, after all, it has not beaten the record of the Masked Ball at the Opera House in Paris, as given in Mr. Irving's revival of The Corsican Brothers,—will not carry a piece of far stronger calibre than The Black Domino, and it won't carry this. Neither will a charming "set," representing the terrace of the "Star and Garter," at Richmond, carry a piece to a successful finale, if the audience has lost all interest in the characters, and does not very much care what becomes of any one of them, male or female. To the play-goer it is not attractive; he has seen it all before. "He knows that man and that woman,—they come from Sheffield;" i.e., the persons and the incidents are taken out of a lot of dramas which dwell in his memory, from Boucicault's Formosa at Drury Lane, up to Oscar's Lady Windermere's Fan at the St. James's. Of course, my imaginary play-goer is the Bill of the play, who has "matured," and is not a junior member of the Play-goer's Club. Then, in the old blind German, there is a touch of Tom Taylor's Helping Hands, and, as for all the rest of the characters, well, they can be found in the common stock-pot of the melodramatic authors of the last half-century, for, like Shakspeare himself, these wicked lawyers and gamblers—the aiders and a-betters—are "not for an age" (would they were, and that age passed!) "but for all time!"
Nothing saves the piece from being absolutely dull, except the admirable acting, and, I may add, the scenery. It is impossible to count upon renewing such effects as those in Formosa, The Flying Scud, and in the Prodigal Daughter at Drury Lane, wherein the wrong horse was poisoned (in a really dramatic scene), and Leonard Boyne, riding the winner, cleared the brook, thus causing part-author Druriolanus to clear—any amount of money. There are no two exciting scenes like these in this Adelphi drama. Its comic relief is "poor relief," and would go for nothing at all, were it not in the hands of Mr. Dale, who played and sang so well in Miss Decima at the Criterion, and of the vivacious Miss Clara Jecks.
Mr. W. Dennis, as the Earl of Arlington, is own brother to the old Peer in The Bauble Shop. Perhaps this is a tribute to the representative of the aristocracy at the Criterion, or it indicates with great subtlety that, like Members of Parliament, "Peers are, after all, human—very human," and that one old Peer is uncommonly like another old Peer. Miss Evelyn Millard, as the soprano heroine, and Mrs. Patrick Campbell as the base heroine, look handsome, and act excellently. They take the audience with them as far as the audience will go. As good as they possibly can be in such conventional puppet-parts are Messrs. Glenny and Abingdon, the first as the well-intentioned but weak-willed Lord Dashwood, and the second as that old-fashioned scoundrel, Captain Greville. Mr. Arthur Williams rather suggests Mr. Blakeley as the oily, scoundrelly lawyer, Joshua Honybun; and Mr. Le Hay gives variety to the entertainment (which is his special line) in the entirely new and original character part of an Irish Major, with nothing particularly humorous to say, and nothing at all, humorous, or otherwise, to do.
Good Old Melodrama Modernised.
Lord Glenny Dashwood (to Captain Abingdon Greville.) "Liar and slave!"
[Strikes him. They fight with fists.
Something new in Melodrama is wanted, and Melodrama "all of the modern time" is played out, unless a genius can hit on a new sensation. The Adelphi piece, however, has its advantages, and among these its chiefest is, that it necessitates the taking of light refreshment immediately afterwards. Fortunately, the Adelphi is close to our old friend Rule's in Maiden Lane, and for this hospitable shelter our party made in haste; and, before the arrival of the crowd of supper-numeraries, gained a table, on which were soon placed appetising and drinkatising oysters, followed by the grateful stout. "Pretty to see," as Pepys hath it, at the very next table to us, the good hero of the drama welcoming the double-dyed villain, chiding him for being a few minutes late, and then drowning all past dramatic animosities in the flowing bowl. "See how these players love one another!" So have I seen politicians, mortal enemies in the House, hob-nobbing together at the dinner-table of some hospitable Impartial. "And thus it is," said I to myself, said I, "that 'all the world's a stage, and men and women' like to have supper after the play and enjoy themselves generally." So philosophising, we, my companion and I, lighted the pipe of peace—I should say a cigar a-piece—and returned home satisfied with our excellent supper. Vive Bayliss! Britannia rules the waves, and this is the last month for oysters till the arrival of another month with an "r" in it; but, en attendant, there will appear some very small, very sweet, and very digestible lobsters! "Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle?" But an indifferent play is well worth a first-rate supper, which may be a shell-fish view, but at all events, if (like the jest) it be "a poor thing," yet 'tis mine own (for the time being), and thereto I sign my hand.
Private Box.
Sir John Gilbert, R.A., has given his pictures to Liverpool to be arranged in "The Walker Gallery." This is rather like saying "Walker" to any Gallery, London. Great opportunity for advertisement to J. L. T. of T**le's Theatre.
