"VICTORY."
MR. MACDONALD HASTINGS has invented, and committed, yet another new
sin--that of attempting to do a CONRAD novel into a three-act play.
Fifteen, possibly; but three? We hardly think. What every Conradist
knows is that you can't compress that master of subtlety without
losing the master's dominant quality--atmosphere; that it's not so
much the things he says but the queer way and the odd order in which
he says them that matter. He is not precisely a filmable person.
And yet, all things considered, the potter has produced a tolerable
pot, and we may write down his fault of extreme foolhardiness as
venial. What, however, Mr. CONRAD himself thought of the rehearsals,
if he attended them--but perhaps we need not go into that.
It is easy to see the attraction, for the players, of the series
of star parts provided by the exciting story. You have first the
eccentric, misjudged Swede, _Heyst_ (the adapter makes him an
Englishman, perhaps wisely, as our stage takes no account of Swedes),
come from self-banishment on a far Pacific island--a complex Conradian
personality. Then his arch-enemy, _Schomberg_, lieutenant of reserve,
shady hotel-keeper, sensualist and craven, with his insane malice.
To these enter as pretty a company of miscreants as ever sailed the
Southern seas: the sinister _Jones_, misogynist to the point of fine
frenzy, nonconformist in the matter of card-playing, and thereafter
frank bandit with a high ethic as to the superiority of plain robbery
under arms over mere vulgar swindling--a gentleman with a code, in
fact; his strictly incomparable "secretary," _Ricardo_ of the rolling
eyes and gait and deathly treacherous knife, philogynist _sans
phrase_; and _Pedro_, their groom, a reincarnated _Caliban_. It may
also be noted that _Heyst_ has a freak servant, the disappearing
_Wang_, whom the adapter uses, I suppose legitimately, as a kind of
clown. And then, finally, there is a charming and unusual heroine,
_Lena_, still in her teens, but of real flesh and blood, innocent and
persecuted, daughter of a drunken fiddler (deceased), herself fiddling
in a tenth-rate orchestra at _Schomberg's_ hotel, wherein it is not
intended that the music shall be the chief attraction to the guests.
_Heyst_ is Perseus to _Lena's_ Andromeda, carrying her off to his
island out of lust's way. But dragon _Schomberg_ has a sting left in
his malicious tale, told to the unlikely trio of scoundrels, to the
effect that _Heyst_ has ill-gotten treasure hoarded on his island.
Dragon _Ricardo_ persuades his chief to the adventure of attaching
it. A fine brew of passion and action forsooth: _Lena_ passionately
adoring; the aloof _Heyst_ passing suddenly from indifference to
ardour; the bestial _Ricardo_ in pursuit of his startled quarry; and
gentleman _Jones_ intent on non-existent booty and rapt out of him
self by cynical fury at the discovery of an unsuspected woman in
the case. And while Mr. CONRAD in his novel drives all these to a
relentless doom Mr. HASTINGS contrives a happy ending, which goes
perilously near an anticlimax, with the hero on his knees and the
heroine pointing up to heaven and claiming a "victory" quite other
than their creator intended. But then he knew perfectly well that
nobody wants to come to see Miss MARIE LÖHR killed.
[Illustration: THE LAGGARD LOVER. _Lena_ (Miss MARIE LÖHR) _to Heyst_
(Mr. MURRAY CARRINGTON). "OH YES, YOU SMILE ALL RIGHT; BUT ONE MAY
SMILE AND SMILE AND YET GET NO FORRARDER."]
On the whole I can't think the cast was up to its extremely difficult
task, if you estimate that task, as it seems to me you must, to be
the reproducing of the original _Victory_ characters. Perhaps Mr. SAM
LIVESEY'S _Ricardo_ was the nearest, though the primitive savagery of
his wooing had to be toned down in the interests of propriety. Mr.
GAYER MACKAY made his _Jones_ interesting and plausible in the quieter
opening movements. In the intended tragic spasms one felt that he
became rather comic than sinister. Not his fault, I think. He had
no room or time to work up his part. That should also apply to Mr.
GARRY'S _Schomberg_, though he doesn't seem to have tried to fit
himself into the skin of that entertaining villain. Mr. MURRAY
CARRINGTON had an exceedingly tough task with his _Heyst_. But was he
even as detached and eccentric as the average modern don? Certainly
he was not the man of mystery of the original pattern, but rather the
amiable comely film-hero.
Miss LÖHR had her interesting moments, the best of them, perhaps, in
the First Act. In her big scene, where the knife is to be won from
_Ricardo_, she was no doubt hampered by the tradition that it is
necessary to play down to the carefully cultivated imbecility of the
audience in order that they should not misunderstand the most obvious
points. It's not flattering to us, but it can't be helped. Probably
we deserve it. But need she have been quite so refined? Only very
occasionally does she remember that _Lena_ is fine matter in a
"common" mould, which is surely of the essence of the situation. I do
seriously recommend a re-reading of what should be a character full
of blood, which is ever so much more amusing than sawdust, however
charmingly encased. I feel sure she could shock and at the same time
please the groundlings if she let herself go.
And where, by the way, did she get that charmingly-cut skirt in the
Second Act? She certainly hadn't it in her bundle when she left the
hotel. And yet the stage-manager will go to the trouble, for the sake
of a quite misguided realism, of making the hotel orchestra play
against the dialogue as if the persistent coughing of the audience
were not sufficient handicap to his team.
Miss BALVAIRD-HEWETT gave a clever rendering of the hotel-keeper's
sombre _Frau_; and Mr. GEORGE ELTON contributed an excellent Chinese
servant.
But you can't, you really can't, get a gallon into a pint pot, however
strenuous the potter.