THE DRAMA.
The “star system” has added another victim to the many already sacrificed to its rapacity and injustice. Mr. Phelps, an actor whose personation of Macduff, the Hunchback, Jaques, &c., would have procured for him in former times no mean position, has been compelled to secede from the Haymarket Theatre from a justifiable feeling of disgust at the continual sacrifices he was required to make for the aggrandisement of one to whom he may not possibly ascribe any superiority of genius. The part assigned to Mr. Phelps (Friar Lawrence) requires an actor of considerable powers, and under the old régime would have deteriorated nothing from Mr. Phelps’ position; but we can understand the motives which influenced its rejection, and whilst we deprecate the practice of actors refusing parts on every caprice, we consider Mr. Phelps’ opposition to this ruinous system of “starring” as commendable and manly. The real cause of the decline of the drama is the upholding of this system. The “stars” are paid so enormously, and cost so much to maintain them in their false position, that the manager cannot afford (supposing the disposition to exist) to pay the working portion of his company salaries commensurate with their usefulness, or compatible with the appearance they are expected to maintain out of the theatre; whilst opportunities of testing their powers as actors, or of improving any favourable impression they may have made upon the public, is denied to them, from the fear that the influence of the greater, because more fortunate actor, may be diminished thereby. These facts are now so well known, that men of education are deterred from making the stage a profession, and consequently the scarcity of rising actors is referable to this cause.
The poverty of our present dramatic literature may also be attributable to this absurd and destructive system. The “star” must be considered alone in the construction of the drama; or if the piece be not actually made to measure, the actor, par excellence, must be the arbiter of the author’s creation. Writers are thus deterred from making experiments in the higher order of dramatic writing, for should their subject admit of this individual display, its rejection by the “star” would render the labour of months valueless, and the dramatist, driven from the path of fame, degenerates into a literary drudge, receiving for his wearying labour a lesser remuneration than would be otherwise awarded him, from the pecuniary monopoly of the “star.”
It is this system which has begotten the present indifference to the stage. The public had formerly many favourites, because all had an opportunity of contending for their favour—now they have only Mr. A. or Mrs. B., who must ultimately weary the public, be their talent what it may, as the sweetest note would pall upon the ear, were it continually sounded, although, when harmonised with others, it should constitute the charm of the melody.
We have made these remarks divested of any personal consideration. We quarrel only with the system that we believe to be unjust and injurious to an art which we reverence.
VAUXHALL.—Vauxhall! region of Punch, both liquid and corporeal!—Elysium of illumination lamps!—Paradise of Simpson!—we have been permitted once again to breathe your oily atmosphere, to partake of an imaginary repast of impalpable ham and invisible chicken—to join in the eruption of exclamations at thy pyrotechnic glories—to swallow thy mysterious arrack and
PUNCH A LA ROMAINE.
We have seen Jullien, the elegant, pantomimic Jullien, exhibit his six-inch wristbands and exquisitely dressed head—we have roved again amid those bowers where, with Araminta Smith, years ago,
“We met the daylight after seven hours’ sitting.”
But we were not happy. There was a something that told us it was not Vauxhall: the G R’s were V R’s—the cocked hats were round hats—the fiddlers were foreigners—the Rotunda was Astley’s—the night was moon-shiny—and there was not—our pen weeps whilst we trace the mournful fact—there was not “Simpson” to exclaim, “Welcome to the royal property!” Urbane M.A.C., wouldst that thou hadst been a Mussulman, then wouldst thou doubtlessly be gliding about amid an Eden of Houris, uttering to the verge of time the hospitable sentence which has rendered thy name immortal—Peace to thy manes!
STRAND.—The enterprising managers of this elegant little theatre have produced another mythological drama, called “The Frolics of the Fairies; or, the Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle,” from the pen of Leman Rede, who is, without doubt, the first of this class of writers. The indisposition of Mr. Hall was stated to be the cause of the delay in the production of this piece; out, from the appearance of the bills, we are led to infer that it arose from the indisposition of Mrs. Waylett to shine in the same hemisphere with that little brilliant, Mrs. Keeley, and “a gem of the first water” she proved herself to be on Wednesday night. It would be useless to enter into the detail of the plot of an ephemeron, that depends more upon its quips and cranks than dramatic construction for its success. It abounds in merry conceits, which that merriest of—dare we call her mere woman?—little Mrs. Bob rendered as pointed as a Whitechapel needle of the finest temper. The appointments and arrangements of the stage reflect the highest credit on the management, and the industry which can labour to surmount the difficulties which we know to exist in the production of anything like scenic effect in the Strand Theatre, deserve the encouragement which we were gratified to see bestowed upon this little Temple of Momus.
The Olympic Theatre has obtained an extension of its licence from the Lord Chamberlain, and will shortly open with a company selected from Ducrow’s late establishment; but whether the peds are bi or quadru, rumour sayeth not.
A CARD.
MESSRS. FUDGE and VAMP beg to inform novelists and writers of tales in general, that they supply dénouements to unfinished stories, on the most reasonable terms. They have just completed a large stock of catastrophes, to which they respectfully solicit attention.
FOR MELO-DRAMA.
Discovery of the real murderers, and respite of the accused.
Ditto very superior, with return of the supposed victim.
Ditto, ditto, extra superfine, with punishment of vice and reward of virtue.
FOR FARCES.
Mollification of flinty-hearted fathers and union of lovers, &c. &c. &c.
FOR COMEDIES.
Fictitious bankruptcy of the hero, and sudden reinstatement of fortune.
Ditto, ditto, with exposure of false friends.
Non-recognition of son by father, ultimate discovery of former by latter.
Ditto, ditto, very fine, “with convenient cordial,” and true gentlemen, illustrated by an old debauchee.
N.B.—On hand, a very choice assortment of interesting parricides, strongly recommended for Surrey use.
WHY AND BECAUSE.
Young Kean’s a bad cigar—because
The more he’s puff’d, the worse he draws.
A new farce, entitled “My Friend the Captain,” is to be produced tonight, at the Haymarket Theatre.
MR. HAMMOND will take a benefit at the English Opera House, on Monday next. We are happy to see that this very deserving actor’s professional brethren are coming forward to lend him that assistance which he has always been ready to afford to others.
TO MRS. H.
Thou sweet, to whom all bend the knee,
No wonder men run after thee;
There’s something in a name, perhaps,
For Honey’s often good for chaps.
A MR. GRAHAM has appeared at the Surrey. He is reported to be a very chaste and clever actor. If so, he certainly will not suit the taste of Mr. Davidge’s patrons. How they have tolerated Wilson, Leffler, and Miss Romer so long, we are utterly at a loss to divine. It must be, that “music hath charms.”
We are authorised to state that Rouse of the Eagle Tavern is not the Rous who was lately returned for Westminster.
THE REAL AND THE IDEAL; OR, THE CATASTROPHE OF A VICTORIA MELO-DRAMA.
Berthelda.—Sanguine, you have killed your mother!!!
Fruitwoman.—Any apples, oranges, biscuits, ginger-beer!
(Curtain falls.)
QUALIFICATIONS FOR AN M.P.
We give the following list of qualifications for a member of parliament for Westminster, as a logical curiosity, extracted from a handbill very liberally distributed by Captain Rons’s party, during the late contest:—
1st. Because “he is brother to the Earl of Stradbroke.”
2nd. Because “his family have always been hearty Conservatives.”
3rd. Because “they have been established in Suffolk from the time of the Heptarchy.”
4th. Because “he entered the navy in 1808.”
5th. Because “he brought home Lord Aylmer in the Pique, in 1835.”
6th. Because “he ran the Pique aground in the Straits of Belleisle.”
7th. Because “after beating there for eleven hours, he got her off again.”
8th. Because “he brought her into Portsmouth without a rudder or forefoot, lower-masts all sprung, and leaking at the rate of two feet per hour!” ergo, he is the fittest man for the representative of Westminster.—Q.E.D.
THE ENTIRE ANIMAL.
LORD LONDONDERRY, in a letter to Colonel Fitzroy, begs of the gallant member to “go the whole hog.” This is natural advice from a thorough bore like his lordship.