Judith Anderson

INTRODUCTION

Raymond Stanley (1921–2008)

The followingpages contain excerpts from—and sometimes the bulk of—interviews, meetings and occasional exchanges at press receptions, with a wide spectrum of performers over the past 30 years or so. From those encounters I have tried to retain, for this book, information and anecdotes that still are of interest today, or shed light upon the interviewee.

It always has been my policy to ask questions which I personally wanted to know the answers of, and to avoid questions which someone obviously has been asked countless times before. I believe that the major part of this book contains facts new to most readers. In some cases I have detailed briefly my prior interests and knowledge of the interviewee.

Most of the encounters have taken place in Australia where I have been fortunate to obtain the co-operation of all concerned.

On a personal note: I arrived in Australia towards the end of 1958 having arranged with the editor of England’s leading theatrical periodical, the trade weekly The Stage (founded in 1880!), to supply any appropriate news, reviews and articles. Some six months later I undertook similar duties for the American Variety, usually referred to as ‘the Bible of show business’.

This proved to be a double ‘Open Sesame’. It meant more to people performing Down Under to be reported upon in these two international weeklies than in the local press. I believe this still applies, although certain local publicists disagree with me. Therefore, I had no difficulty in obtaining the interviews, and in some cases was sought out by those concerned.

I have tried never to interview anyone I did not want to, although in a few cases I was ‘persuaded’ to, and finally won over. Seldom have I interviewed anyone without knowing a great deal about their career, frequently surprising them with my knowledge.

I remained with Variety until 1977, when I switched to Screen International, which proved an even better deal as it provided the opportunity to visit a number of film sets. Then in 1985 I changed to The Business of Film which, although financially a better prospect, did not bring me in touch with the people I should like to have contacted. Along the way I have written for numerous other periodicals as well, both in Australia and other countries. I still am writing for The Stage.

During a six months’ visit back in England in 1961 I purchased a large reel-to-reel tape recorder: useful for recording purposes rather than note-taking or relying upon one’s memory. But oh, it was such a nuisance to carry around and have to plug in to power points at the various venues! Today I am surprised at how tolerant everyone was with it.

Since then I have utilized a small cassette recorder or a pocket microcassette-corder. Unfortunately there have been occasions with these have failed to work satisfactorily, when batteries have run down, and once again I have had to rely upon my memory.

Meeting these people has highlighted the fact that, despite all the glamour and fame, basically – when one gets down to talking ‘man to man’ – they are just like anyone else. The big surprise always is how much shorter a lot appear away from the screen: Bette Davis and Marlene Dietrich to give but two examples.

There really have been only three occasions on which I was unable to obtain the interviews I wanted. The first was when Eartha Kitt made her first Australian tour. I attended the press reception for her, a personal interview was more or less lined up, then the news broke of her separation from her husband and she refused all further interviews. However, I did meet her backstage on a subsequent tour.

Then there was Judy Garland. It had all been arranged, as I relate in this book, but she was a very sick lady and there were no interviews with her in Melbourne.

The third person was Claudette Colbert, always one of my favourite film stars, and who came to Melbourne with Rex Harrison to star in Aren’t We All?. There was a press reception for Harrison, but not for her. There had been articles on her in the Press prior to her arrival in Australia, written in London or New York. As far as I know there was one radio interview, and that was all. Apparently she did not think it necessary to do any publicity; the play perhaps would have done better at the box office had she not been so ‘press shy’.

Today I do regret that I did not do in-depth interviews with some people I met briefly at press receptions, actors such as Ralph Richardson and Michael Redgrave. I could easily have arranged it. Why didn’t I, I ask myself now. It probably was because at those particular times I could see no immediate venues for placing pieces on them.

It is my earnest wish that all readers will get something out of this book. It is written for those who enjoy reading about show business (with an occasional piece of trivia thrown in!), and to provide clues for future biographers.

Judith Anderson, 1954. Photographer unknown.

New York Public Library, New York

Judith Anderson as Medea, New York, 1949. Photo by Avedon.

New York Public Library, New York

JUDITH ANDERSON

At the 1966 Adelaide Festival of the Arts Dame Judith Anderson was seen in four performances of a program that consisted of excerpts from Macbeth and Medea. Reviews following the first performance were not the best for Dame Judith and her supporting cast, and I went along on the second night with sinking heart.

The first half of the program, lasting about half an hour, was devoted to all the major Lady Macbeth scenes. Looking impressive in simple but dignified royal blue robes, the actress was most subdued a great part of the time, but never failed to bring out the beauty of the verse, and gave new meanings to a number of lines.

As Medea, in a condensed version o the Robinson Jeffers’ adaptation, which occupied about an hour and a quarter of the second half, with one brief interval, Dame Judith looked beautiful in a loose yellow gown and again did not overdo the ranting. She managed almost at time to inject humour into the situations and only once or twice get the impression of being a little stale in the part.

After the poor reviews I was pleasantly surprised and quite enthusiastic, and could recall few performances I had seen in Australia to equal this, and felt impelled to go backstage, introduce myself and congratulate the Dame.

I had expected someone tall and regal and, on entering her dressing room, was amazed to be confronted by a tiny old lady with a black shawl around her shoulders, so different to the onstage illusion that had been created.

She listened almost impatiently to my words of praise and cut me short.

‘What did you think of my leading man?’ she asked.

‘I thought he was very, very good,’ I truthfully said.

‘Then will you do me a favour?’ she asked. ‘Go to his dressing room and tell him so. The reviews have been so unkind to him, so unjustified.’

Incidentally, Dame Judith had taken no fee for her performances, but donated her services to the Festival.

A few days later I saw her again – in a huge auditorium – alongside an Australian actor, enthusiastically reading English translations of Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s poems when the Russian poet gave three public recitals of his work.

Coral Browne. Photo by Friedman-Abeles.

New York Public Library, New York

Coral Browne as Lady Macbeth in Macbeth, Old Vic, London, 1955. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

CORAL BROWNE

Legendary are the tales I have heard told concerning Australian-born actress Coral Browne, some of which are absolutely true, as I was told them first hand by a friend who was in the company during the time she played at the Old Vic.

Several of these anecdotes, slightly distorted, have already seen the light of print. One, which, to my knowledge, has not is of when she temporarily left the Old Vic to play Vera Charles opposite Rosalind Russell in the film version of Auntie Mame.

From Hollywood she sent a postcard to members of the Old Vic Company saying: ‘Here in Hollywood you can get any kind of sex you want—with man, woman, child or dog—at a price!’. At the bottom of the card she wrote: ‘P.S. I’m broke!’

Also I was told about her generosity and consideration. She heard about the death of the father of one young member of the company who, straight from drama school, for the moment was playing only minor roles.

Realising how hard it was for him to exist on £7 a week, and with a widowed mother and younger brother still at school, in the nicest way, so as not to offend the proud boy, she persuaded him to accept some of her husband’s cast off clothes.

I had always enjoyed and greatly admired her stage performances, ranging from Maggie Cutler in The Man Who Came to Dinner, the title role in The Last of Mrs. Cheyney and Lady Frederick, her classical roles at the Old Vic and many more. It had always been a disappointment she had not been more active in films.

In 1961, with a brief to interview Australians in London for an Australian theatre monthly, Coral Browne would be high on the list.

Coral Browne as Lady Frederick Berolles in Lady Frederick, Savoy Theatre, London, 1946. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as Marie Paule in Bonne Soupe, Comedy Theatre, London, 1961. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Accordingly, I wrote her, requesting an interview, and received a telephone call from her agent’s office agreeing and setting up the time of 5 p.m. one afternoon at the Comedy Theatre, where she apparently was rehearsing in the play Bonne Soupe.

‘On no account must you be a minute late,’ I was warned and then, with uncontrolled curiosity in the voice came the query: ‘Have you ever interviewed Miss Browne before?'

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Then the best of British luck to you!’

That particular afternoon was being spent with Peter Cotes and his wife Joan Miller, at their then home at Crystal Palace. Naturally, I was anxious to leave and be on time, and seeing how I felt, Cotes said he would drive me there. But the time was speeding along and Cotes showed no signs of hurrying and I began to panic, knowing I should he late. By the time we left even Cotes realised we should not make it on time.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘Joannie will ring the stage door and say you’ll be a little late.’

A little late! We seemed to strike every traffic jam possible and it was exactly 5.30 p.m. when, hot and sweaty, I alighted from Cotes’ car at the Comedy stage door. Would Coral Browne still be waiting—and what would her mood be like?

I was shown into an empty room and, before I had an opportunity to sit down, Browne herself entered, and, just as I was about to make my apologies she burbled: ‘You poor man—I am so sorry to keep you waiting like this. We’ve only just finished the rehearsal.’ I made no comment, but began the interview.

It was not the greatest of interviews. There was nothing devastating in the way of wit, which I had hoped for, and naturally the bulk of it was aimed at Australian readers. Since leaving the country in 1934 she had only returned once, for her grandmother’s funeral. It had always been her intention to go back one day for a theatre engagement, but something always occurred to prevent it.

Coral Browne as Laura Foster in Simon and Laura, 1954. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as Katherine Dougherty in The Pleasure of His Company, Haymarket Theatre, London, 1959. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

‘All the plays I’d like to do there are being done by someone else, just as I’m making my plans. For instance, there was Simon and Laura, in which I appeared in the West End. Googie Withers and John McCallum came and saw me in it, and the next thing I knew they had arrange to tour it Down Under!

‘Cyril Ritchard wanted me to co-star with him in The Pleasure of His Company, in which I was appearing in the West End. Then I took over in the American production in Chicago and …

‘About three years ago I was going to tour Australia with the Old Vic Company, playing Cleopatra to Harry Andrews’ Antony, as well as other roles. Then Mr. Andrews had a film commitment he couldn’t get out of, so that also failed to mature.’

She assured me she did intent to appear on the Australian stage again.

‘It isn’t easy though, with a husband and a home to look after. Of course it isn’t like the old days when there were long sea voyages that took up so much of the time. One wonders how people like Marie Tempest managed it—so much travelling time without pay.’

Browne obviously was very proud of being an Australian and still retained her Australian passport.

‘Wherever you look here in England in the arts you are sure to find Australians at the top: Joan Sutherland, Sidney Nolan, Loudon Sainthill, Ray Lawler. Who wouldn’t be proud to be Australian? And I’m proud I’ve still got some of my Australian accent left!’

We discussed the then current West End theatre, and she admitted it was losing its appeal and certainly not what it had been. About the ‘kitchen sink’ drama she was most dogmatic.

‘There isn’t any beauty in it. When the theatre can offer so much beauty, visually and vocally, who wants to go and see an angry young man twiddling his toes through the holes in his socks? I saw Roots, after a really wonderful lunch, but the smell of liver cooking in the theatre made me want to vomit by the end of the first act!’

Of playwrights of that time, she felt Arnold Wesker could write good plays and admitted she had a great admiration for Harold Pinter.

How did she like acting on television?

‘It’s terrifying, absolutely terrifying. To be judged by one’s first performance in a play is simply awful. When opening in the West End, the audiences’ reactions are vital. And one doesn’t get this with television.

‘Another thing, all the plays one would like to do on television appear to have been done. But I’d certainly appear in a Pinter play on TV if he wrote one for me.’

Films did not fill her with the same dismay.

‘Making films seem easier as one gets older,’ she observed.

Then she made the comment that playwrights did not seem to be writing plays for the stars.

‘There’s Edith Evans, for instance—the greatest actress in the English-speaking world—every playwright ought to be writing plays furiously for her. Yet since Fry’s The Dark Is Light Enough, no one has bothered to write her a play.’

She confessed that Lady Macbeth was her favourite Shakespeare role.

‘I always get to the theatre hours before when playing in Macbeth, to sink myself in the role, something I’ve never done with any other part.’

As with all the other people I interviewed in London, I sent Coral Browne a copy of the article when it was published. She was the only one to write me a letter of thanks. In it she said: ‘I liked the interview very much and gave it to Harold Pinter!’

Coral Browne as Albertine Prine in Toys in the Attic, 1960. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

Coral Browne as the Countess in The Rehearsal, Theatre Royal, Brighton, 1963. Photo by Angus McBean.

Harvard Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA

In the late 1970s Geoff Burrowes (who later produced The Man From Snowy River films) told me he was hoping to being out Browne and her husband, Vincent Price, to co-star in a vampire film to be called Romance in the Jugular Vein, but this never happened.

In 1980 Price came to Australia to perform on stage his one-man Oscar Wilde show, and was accompanied by Coral Browne. There seemed to be little publicity about her return to her homeland. One would have expected all sorts of offers to have been made to her, but this did not happen.

Next time... John Carradine

Judith Anderson: Australian Star, First Lady of the American Stage by Desley DeaconBOOK REVIEW: Judith Anderson: Australian Star, First Lady of the American Stage by Desley Deacon, Kerr Publishing, 2019

Review by Elisabeth Kumm

The ephemeral nature of performances for theatre differs from the more enduring nature of performances for movies, assisted by the physical and lasting record created by film.

Most people know Judith Anderson as a film actress, most notably as Mrs Danvers in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1940 thriller Rebecca. But as Desley Deacon describes in her recent publication, Judith Anderson: Australian Star, First Lady of the American Stage, Anderson’s career was grounded in theatre. From the 1920s to the 1950s she enjoyed an almost unparalleled career as a leading light on Broadway, equal to Katharine Cornell, Lynn Fontanne and Ruth Gordon.

Until reading Desley Deacon’s page-turning biography of Judith Anderson, I had no appreciation of the extent of Anderson’s stage career and status, often being praised by critics as ‘America’s greatest living actress’.

Deacon draws on many sources, including Judith Anderson’s unpublished memoir and appointment diaries, now both part of the Anderson Papers held at the University of California Santa Barbara Library, in addition to letters and newspaper reports. Deacon’s book is also informed by correspondence and discussion with people who knew Anderson. Deacon has had an interest in Judith Anderson for a long time. She has written several articles that touch on different aspects of her career and influence, and authored her biography for the Australian Dictionary of Biography (2016). This book is the inevitable culmination many years of research.

Born Frances Margaret Anderson in Adelaide, South Australia in 1897, Judith Anderson was the youngest of Jessie Margaret Saltmarsh and James Anderson Anderson’s four children. When she was six years old, her parents separated and she was raised by her mother.

From an early age, Judith showed potential as a singer and reciter, and at eleven she abandoned music to study elocution under the guidance of Mabel Kerr and later Lawrence Campbell. By 1912, she was performing in amateur theatricals, and by 1915, after the family moved to Sydney, she made her first professional appearance for J.C. Williamson Ltd in a touring company headed by matinee idol Julius Knight. Adopting the stage name ‘Francee Anderson’, she achieved some success in supporting roles, particularly Stephanie de Beauharnais in A Royal Divorce.

In 1917 she accepted a position with J. & N. Tait in the musical Turn to the Right, but this did nothing to further her career. With few opportunities in Australia and many of her actor friends departing for Hollywood, she decided that her future would be in America.

In January 1918, accompanied by her mother, she left for Los Angeles. But it was not a career in the movies that she found when she reached the United States. Anderson’s appearance was not suited to the movies of the time. Her nose was too big and her eyes too deep set. By June, she was in New York, making rounds of the theatres, but it would take several years before she would get her first break.

After her arrival in the United States, Judith Anderson’s story starts to come alive. Her friendships, her lovers, her hopes and dreams, successes and disappointments.

In 1923, at the suggestion of actor Frank Keenan, she changed her name to ‘Judith Anderson’. It was as Keenan’s leading lady that she made her first appearance in New York, in the drama Peter Weston. But it wasn’t until her next role, as Elise Van Zile, the erotic vampire woman in Cobra,that critics started to take notice. It wasn’t just her striking appearance, but the manner in which she inhabited her characters. Her velvety speaking voice, the way she moved across the stage and her hand gestures, also assisted her reputation.

Off stage, Anderson was charming and funny, stylish and accomplished, ambitious and determined. She loved music and literature. She enjoyed the high-life, attending parties and dinners. She made friends easily. Not just theatre people, like Noel Coward, John Gielgud and Katharine Cornell, but writers, musicians and art collectors. Close friends included the poet Robinson Jeffers (whose adaptation of Medea was one of her greatest triumphs) and the actor Mary Servoss. But she was less successful in her choice of husbands. Her two marriages, to academic Peter Lehman in 1937 and producer Luther Greene in 1946, both ended in divorce. Though several commentators later viewed Anderson as a gay icon, there is no indication of any such liaisons, although she did have many gay women friends.

Anderson’s career as a leading stage actor grew with each successive play, but as Deacon notes, there were several pivotal roles that cemented her success. The first was Cobra (1924), followed by Come of Age (1934), Family Portrait (1939) and Medea (1947), covering the vamp, the neurotic, the mother of Jesus, and the revengeful murderer. Four very different roles that marked her rise from sophisticated leading lady to character actor to tragedian.

By the 1950s, Anderson’s Broadway appearances became fewer, due to the rise of the musical and the decrease in the number of dramas being produced and she turned to Hollywood and the new medium of television to augment her income.

It is curious that Anderson only played three major Shakespearean roles, but the three she tackled were performed with great force and poetry. In 1936 she portrayed Gertrude on Broadway opposite the Hamlet of John Gielgud. She also played Lady Macbeth numerous times: in London (Old Vic, 1937), throughout the USA (1940s), and on television (1954 and 1960). In England she was supported by Laurence Olivier and on the other occasions by Maurice Evans. During 1970-71, she achieved one of her greatest ambitions: to play Hamlet. Sadly critics panned her performance and the pared-back production that sought to place Shakespeare’s language and Anderson’s delivery at the centre was considered a ‘fiasco’.

Her last stage appearance of any great import was in 1982, when at the age of 85 she played the Nurse in a revival of Jeffers’ Medea at the Kennedy Centre in New York (and on tour), with Australian Zoe Caldwell in the title role. A film version of the production was aired on PBS in 1983.

Judith Anderson returned to Australia only three times. The first was in 1927 for J.C. Williamson, when she appeared in a round of plays that included Cobra, Tea for Three and The Green Hat. Though each of these plays had achieved success on Broadway, the focus on sex and seduction left Australian audiences cold, and what was meant to be a glorious homecoming was instead an unmitigated disaster, personally and financially.

The second time was under the auspices of the Australian Elizabethan Theatre Trust in 1955 when she toured in Medea, with Clement McCallin as Jason, and new costumes and scenery designed by William Constable.

Her third Australian visit came in 1966 for the Adelaide Festival playing in Medea and Macbeth, with James Condon as her leading man. Though the choice of venue, Elder Hall, was deemed a poor choice, the event was an artistic success.

She was in Australia for the last time in 1973 to appear in a ‘western horror’ movie directed by Terry Bourke called Inn of the Damned (released November 1975).

In December 1959, her homeland gave her a huge compliment by appointing her a Dame Commander of the British Empire, the second Australian woman in the performing arts after Melba to receive such an accolade. In 1992, just prior to her death, she received the Companion of the Order of Australia.

Judith Anderson was an amazing woman and despite being called ‘Australia’s greatest export’, is like so many figures of the past, remembered for a single achievement or not remembered at all. With this book, it is hoped that she will be rediscovered. With more than forty films, numerous television productions, and many audio recordings to her credit, it is possible to get some idea of her remarkable talent.

Portrait of Judith Anderson, 1941.

Photo by Vandamm.  PIC Box P1836 #P1836/1, National Library of Australia, https://nla.gov.au/nla.obj-136377983/view

Judith Anderson and Clement McCallin in Medea, 1955.

An APA picture by Norman L. Danvers, PIC/7970/133 LOC Drawer PIC/7970, National Library of Australia, https://nla.gov.au/nla.obj-148423637/view

Portrait of Judith Anderson, c. 1940s.

PIC Box P1836 #P1836/2, National Library of Australia, https://nla.gov.au/nla.obj-136377873/view

J.& N. TAIT’S 1916 smash hit, Peg o’ My Heart, having just concluded a ‘long and prosperous tour of New Zealand’, played a limited return season at the Palace from 23 December 1916. Ahead of its opening, a notice in the daily newspapers ran:

Sydney theatre-goers badly need you. We are having too many propaganda entertainments these days, and your sweetening influence will do much to restore our jaded tastes to normal. Your infectious laugh and mischievous manners will help us to forget strikes, political controversies, and such like worries. We shall be in full force to greet you on Saturday next at the Palace.¹

With the exception of A.L. Pearce, who had replaced James Gelderd in the role of Christian Brent,² the cast was the same as on the first production, with Sara Allgood as Peg, Gerald Henson as Jerry, Cecil Brooking as Alaric Chichester, Ernest Ruston as Montgomery Hawkes, Thomas Sidney as Jarvis, Doris Gilham as Mrs Chichester, Beatrice Yaldwyn as Ethel Chichester, and Betty MacMillan as Bennett.

As expected, Sara Allgood and the company received a warm welcome and the play attracted packed houses for a month, with the Daily Telegraph (25 December 1916) reminding playgoers that Peg ‘is certainly one of the most attractive of modern comedies, and one that will stand seeing a second, and even a third time’.

On 25 December, Peg stepped aside for a special Christmas night concert, which featured an attractive line up of talent including monologist Lawrence Campbell, basso Malcolm McEachern, soprano Gladys Davis, tenor Claud McBurney, and Belgian violinist Florent Hoogstoel.

With a new musical, Very Good Eddie, scheduled to open on 10 February 1917, the Taits, who had taken a long lease on the Palace, determined to have the theatre redecorated prior to the show’s opening. As a result, Peg o’ My Heart was reluctantly withdrawn on 20 January 1917, after only a month.

In late January, the decorators moved in to give the Palace a ‘lighter and brighter look’. The ‘former sombre tints’ were replaced by a new scheme of cream and gold, and several remaining elements of Phil Goatcher’s original design were swept away. The Moorish cupolas over the boxes were gone and the ‘large ornamental pillars’ supporting the dress circle were replaced by ‘slender steel posts’, which allowed for ‘a clear view of the stage from all parts of the stalls’. Gone too was the heavily embroidered stage curtain, which was replaced by a ‘new one of modern design’. The seats in the stalls and dress circle were reupholstered in old gold and royal blue respectively, and a new lighting scheme was introduced. As the World’s News opined, ‘Altogether the renovation scheme is a decided success, and makes the Palace one of the cosiest and most attractive theatres in Australia’.³ The work was carried out by Beard, Watson & Co. Ltd. and Althouse & Geiger.

At the same time, E.J. Tait returned from America, bringing with him not only new artists for Very Good Eddie, but several new attractions for the coming seasons. These included the comedies Turn to the Right and The Only Son, both by Winchell Smith, the drama Under Sentence by Roy Cooper Megrue and Irving S. Cobb, and the musical Adele by Eugene Bricquet.⁴

Principals in the original Broadway production of Very Good Eddie, 1915, with Alice Dovey and Ernest Truex (centre). Photo by White Studio. New York Public Library, New York.

For the title role in Very Good Eddie, E.J. Tait announced that he had secured the services of Barry Lupino. ‘It took me a long time to secure the right artist for little Eddie, but I luckily found him in Barry Lupino, who was playing at the Shubert Brothers’ Winter Garden [in Robinson Crusoe Jr], and from them I contrived to secure his release’.⁵ Lupino, who had been in Australia before, notably as a pantomime performer, was also engaged to direct the show.

With the theatre refreshed, a new chapter in the history of the Palace began with the staging of Very Good Eddie for the first time in Australia. As The Sun (11 February 1917) would note, by expanding their focus to include plays and musicals, ‘the firm [of J. & N. Tait] has fairly won for itself a place in Australia’s theatrical firmament’.

Very Good Eddieis a three-act musical by Guy Bolton and Philip Bartholomae, adapted from Bartholomae’s 1911 comedy Over Night. With music by Jerome Kern and lyrics by Schuyler Greene, it had been a huge hit on Broadway where it received its premiere at the Princess Theatre.⁶ On Broadway, the show ran for a total of 341 performances from 23 December 1915, with Ernest Truex as Eddie and Alice Dovey as Elsie. It was the second of the famed ‘Princess Theatre musicals’ penned by the team of Bolton and Kern, following 1915’s Nobody Home.

The musical yielded few ‘smash hits’, though “Babes in the Wood” (sung by Eddie and Elsie) and “Katy did” (sung by Madame Matroppo) fared well.

The plot of Very Good Eddie revolves around two newlyweds, Eddie and Georgina Kettle and Percy and Elsie Darling, who are travelling by boat to their honeymoon hotel, but when the boat stops Georgina and Percy are accidently left behind. Eddie is small and weak willed and away from his bossy wife, Elsie seeks his protection when the two spend the night at an inn as a storm rages overhead. This experience makes a new man out of Eddie, and when the couples are reunited, Eddie feels that he can face up to Georgina.

The role of Eddie was perfectly realised by Barry Lupino, with Fayette Perry as Elsie, Emily Fitzroy as Georgina, and George Whitehead as Percy. Other characters were played by Daisy Revette (Victoria Lake), Andrew Higginson (Dick Rivers), Nan Taylor (Madame Matroppo), Lilian Tucker (Elsie Lilly) and John Beck (Al Cleveland).

Fayette Perry and Barry Lupino in Very Good Eddie

From Table Talk (Melbourne), 3 May 1917

Sheet music cover for ‘Babes in the Wood’ from Very Good Eddie

National Library of Australia, Canberra

The new artists had been engaged by E.J. Tait in America including Fayette Perry (‘a young actress of many varied parts with stock companies’), Lilian Tucker (‘a fair-haired Norwegian beauty’), John Beck (‘an excellent comedian of a type new to our playgoers’), and Daisy Revette (‘a pretty and petite singer and actress’), ⁷ this last named actress being the wife of Andrew Higginson. Both Higginson and Emily Fitzroy had enjoyed success in Australia before. In 1907 Higginson had achieved huge accolades playing the role of Prince Danilo in The Merry Widow opposite Carrie Moore, while Emily Fitzroy had performed widely in Australia, England and the USA from the 1880s. In addition, George Whitehead and Nan Taylor were both already in Australia, Whitehead since 1903 as a popular baritone in musicals and on the concert and recital stage, and Nan Taylor since 1914 as a member of the Bunty Pulls the Strings company.

Curiously, the musical received a somewhat indifferent reception from the critics. The Sydney Morning Herald(12 February 1917) for example observed:

“Very Good Eddie” … is founded on the American farce “Overnight”, but in the result the story is gradually submerged in the billowy breakers of song and dance. It was, therefore, from the aspect of catchy revue that the audience tolerably applauded its cleverly presented nonsense, and enjoyed with enthusiasm two or three really charmful musical numbers.

The Sun (11 February 1917) called it ‘a palatable mixture of musical comedy and revue’, while the Sunday Times (11 February 1917) was hardly effusive either, noting rather bluntly, ‘The scenery was appropriate and excellent, the grouping and dances most effective, and the variety turns were much appreciated’.

Possibly due to the lukewarm reviews, Very Good Eddie took a while to really catch on. In late-February, a musicians strike nearly derailed proceedings, but by early March it was said to be attracting ‘increased patronage’ and ‘is now running smoothly as may be expected’.⁸ Barry Lupino was the undoubted star of the show:

Barry Lupino’s comedy work in the role of Eddie Kettle is the mainstay of the show, and he is a big surprise to those who have always associated him with the knock-out style of pantomime work, for he plays the character of the downtrodden, undersized bridegroom in a quite convincing manner which compels laughter or tear, for if you are not laughing at him, you are pitying him.⁹

Lupino and co. took a break on Good Friday when an attractive program of recital and song was presented. Performers included elocutionist Lawrence Campbell; Nellie Leach and Mr Martinelli in selections from La Boheme; with contributions by soprano Dorrie Ward, baritone Albert Goossens, violinist Florent Hoogstoel, and the baritone from the Very Good Eddie company, George Whitehead.

Very Good Eddie played for nine weeks, closing on 18 April, after which the company of sixty departed for Melbourne. Although it was slow out of the blocks, by the end of the season the musical was playing to packed and enthusiastic houses and was said to have returned a handsome profit.¹⁰

Poster for Turn to the Right, c.1917. Lithograph by The Strobridge Lithographic Company, Cincinnati and New York.

University of Wisconsin-Madison Libraries

American actor Walter P. Richardson who played Joe Bascom in the Australian production of Turn to the Right

From The Lone Hand (Sydney), 2 April 1917

The next production, opening on 21 April, was Turn to the Right, for the first time in Sydney. A comedy by Winchell Smith and John E. Hazzard, this play had received its Australian premiere in Melbourne, at the King’s Theatre, on 24 February 1917, having debuted at the Gaiety Theatre in New York in August 1916 where it was still playing to packed houses. It would go on to achieve a run of 435 performances, closing on 29 August 1917, with Forrest Winant, William E. Meehan and Frank Nelson as the leads.

Several of Winchell Smith’s plays had already been seen in Australia, including Brewster’s Millions, The Boomerang and The Fortune Hunter. This new play belonged to genre of ‘crook comedies’. It concerns Joe Bascom, a young man newly released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Returning to his mother’s peach farm, where he hopes to settle down, he discovers that his mother is about to lose her property to the unscrupulous Deacon Tillinger. Enlisting the services of two prison chums, “Muggs” and Gilly, he devises a plan to undermine the Deacon and save Mrs Bascom’s farm. Under the influence of Joe’s mother, the ex-prisoners turn over a new leaf, and all three men win the hearts of local girls.

From The Critic (Adelaide), 22 August 1917

The four leads were new to Australia, having been ‘chosen by the authors’, including Walter P. Richardson (Joe Bascom), John Junior (“Muggs”), Stapleton Kent (Gilly), and Margaret Calvert (Mrs Bascom). The newcomers were ‘augmented by several well-known favourite Australian actors and actresses’, namely George Chalmers as Deacon Tillinger, with Gaston Mervale (returning to Australia after five years abroad), Carleton Stuart, Lizette Parkes, Eileen Sparks, Nancye Stewart and Francee Anderson (aka Judith Anderson) in supporting roles. Gaston Mervale also directed the play.

More scenes from Turn to the Right. From The Critic (Adelaide), 8 August 1917.

With Turn to the Right, the Taits had a sure-fire winner. The daily papers gave it the thumbs up! ‘Of all the plays that have been produced in Sydney during the last few years’, the Sunday Times (22 April 1917) enthused, ‘none has achieved such an immediate success as was the case with Turn to the Right at the Palace Theatre last night’. Likewise, the Referee (25 April 1917) observed, ‘This play of mirth, morals, and peach preserves as given at the Palace Theatre on Saturday last, is likely to remain a big drawing card as long as the firm cares to continue it’. The World’s News (5 May 1917) hit the nail on the head when describing the secret to the play’s success:

From the commencement of the prologue until the final curtain, the audience is in a state of varying emotion, from heart pulling sympathy to uncontrolled laughter. “Turn to the Right” appeals not only to men … but has a direct appeal for women. Its humour is fresh and clean, the plot is based upon the regeneration of two young crooks through the influence of a saintly old woman, and her rescue from the hands of a sharper by these boys in a series of excruciatingly funny and ingenious episodes.

Despite the crowded houses and the continued effusive reviews Turn to the Right was withdrawn after nine weeks to make way for a new entertainment, Look Who’s Here.

This production was the brainchild of Sydney James and Jack Waller. James was well known to Sydney theatregoers having enjoyed two long seasons at the Palace with his Royal Strollers during 1915 and 1916. His co-divisor, Jack Waller, was a young Englishman, who had been performing with various concert parties in Australia since 1913. More an entertainment than a revue, this new show had premiered to enthusiastic houses at the Lyric Theatre in St Kilda (Melbourne) in January 1917, thereafter going on tour, including stop offs in Adelaide and Brisbane. Ahead of its opening in Sydney, Sydney James was quoted in the Sunday Times (3 June 1917), ‘We term the production a kaleidoscopic innovation, inasmuch as it comprises a full and complete mockery of things that are, and things that are not, and introduces mirth and music in a form of novelty never yet attempted by any actor, author or human being’!

Advertisement for Look Who’s Here. From The Sun (Sydney), 5 August 1917.

Comprising some forty artists, including the Purple Band of twenty performers under the direction of Simms Waller, the Look Who’s Here duly opened at the Palace on 30 June 1917. The Sydney Morning Herald found the show amusing, but argued that although it was original, it was hardly innovative, ‘as it follows the generic idea of Sydney James’s famous Strollers’. Nevertheless, it had the audience ‘alternatively convulsed with laughter at the witty dialogue and burlesque situations or uplifted by the efficient rendering of music from classic opera’. ¹¹ As with the Stollers, the entertainment was divided into two parts, comprising a mixture of music, sketches, dances and songs. The musical interludes were performed by the Purple Band whose repertoire spanned from grand opera to ragtime. In addition to Sydney James and Jack Waller, the line up of talented artists included Madeline Rossiter, Ada Smart, Connie Milne, Cecilia Gold, Wylie Watson, Frederick Dennet and Gregory Ivanoff (violin virtuoso). As the Sydney Bulletin quipped:

The combined “Look Who’s Here” co. (made up of James’s “Strollers” and Waller’s “Ideals”) has no blanks in it and every member has something to do that suits him – or her. The result is that the smartly mounted black-and-white entertainment bubbles nearly all the time … There’s something for everybody in this clever show, and good measure for all.¹²

Over the course of the season regular changes to the program saw the introduction of new and topical routines. At this time Sydney was experiencing crippling transport strikes and as a result, the show was forced to close for a fortnight. It re-opened on 1 September and played for another month, closing on 28 September. With a new show knocking at the door, Look Who’s Here transferred to the Theatre Royal for an additional fortnight.

Isabel Jay as Sybil Cunningham in the original 1905 London production of The White Chrysanthemum

Author’s collection

American/Norwegian soprano Lilian Tucker, who played Sybil in the Australian production of The White Chrysanthemum

From The Lone Hand (Sydney), 1 February 1917

On 29 September the Taits introduced their second new musical for the year: The White Chrysanthemum, having received its Australian premiere at the King’s Theatre in Melbourne on 2 June 1917. This musical, by Leedham Bantock and Arthur Anderson with music by Howard Talbot, was not a new piece by any means. It had first been performed in London in 1905 at the Criterion Theatre, with Rutland Barrington, Henry Lytton, Lawrence Grossmith, Marie George, Millie Legarde and Isobel Jay.

Set in Japan, The White Chrysanthemum featured many of the leads from Very Good Eddie, including Lilian Tucker (Sybil Cunningham/O San), Andrew Higginson (Hon. Chippendale Belmont), Fayette Perry (Cornelia Vanderdecken), Daisy Revette (Betty Kenyon), Emily Fitzroy (Mrs Sin Chong) and John Beck (Perks), with Frank Greene as Lieutenant Reginald Armitage (replacing Vernon Irving who had created the role in Melbourne). Barry Lupino played the role of Samuel Wilkins, the purser on the S.Y. Skylark, and directed.

The thin plot revolves around Admiral Sir Horatio Armitage’s wish that his son, Lieutenant Reginald Armitage, marries a rich American heiress, Cornelia Vanderdecken. Reggie, however, is in love with Sybil Cunningham, and with the help of Reggie’s friend Chippy, she follows him to Japan, disguising herself as a Japanese girl. When she sees Reggie and Cornelia together, she runs away, but when her cousin Betty explains the truth of the situation, she and Reggie are reunited. Betty marries Sir Horatio and Chippy pairs off with Cornelia.

Reviewers admired the beautiful settings and costumes, and the catchy songs, especially Lilian Tucker, who had the chance to display her vocal skills. But Barry Lupino stole the show with his amusing antics, notably his ‘lightning dives through windows and trap-doors’, which are ‘the real peg on which the little comedy hangs’.¹³ Two weeks into the season he introduced the patter song, “Chrysanthemums”, in which he ludicrously wrestles with the word on his way home after an evening out. Composed by David Worton and George Arthurs, Lupino had scored a success with it when he performed it in the pantomime The Forty Thievesin Melbourne during 1913/1914. During the final week of the season, Little Vera Bain, a child dancer, made her first appearance in ‘The Dying Swan’, a specially devised ballet number.

Publicity photo taken during the Melbourne season with Vernon Irving as Lieut. Reginald Armitage, Lilian Tucker as O San (Sybil Cunningham), Andrew Higginson as Hon. Chippendale Belmont and Daisy Revette as Betty Kenyon in The White Chrysanthemum. From The Critic (Adelaide), 14 November 1917.

The White Chrysanthemum was withdrawn on 26 October and was followed by a brief revival of Very Good Eddie. Except for George Whitehead and Nan Taylor, whose roles were played by Frank Greene and Athenia Claudius, the cast was the same.

A week later, on 3 November, the Palace welcomed back Philip Lytton and The Waybacks for a three-week season. As previously, Madge Hope, William Stewart and Gladys Leigh played their original roles of Felicity Holmes and Dads and Mums Wayback. Since its first outing at the Palace in October 1915, the play had been seen throughout Australia with marked success. Philip Lytton attributed its popularity to its ‘clean fun, coupled with strong human interest’, going on to say, ‘It may not be especially credible or high flown, but it meets the people on a familiar basis of common human feeling, and it always gives a sort of boost to the glad side of life’.¹⁴

Following the departure of Dads and Mums Wayback, films returned to the Palace with Idle Wives. This new American film, starring Lois Weber, was screened three times daily. From 3 December, the divorce drama Should She Obey?was added to the bill. A week later, Jack and the Beanstalk, advertised as William Fox’s First Kiddie Film, played twice daily. The season of films closed on 21 December.

The year concluded with the return of the Taits and a brand-new play, The New Henrietta, which opened on 22 December. This play, a four-act comedy-drama by Winchell Smith (co-author of Turn to the Right) and Victor Mapes, had originally been earmarked for production at the Palace in May 1917, but the success of Turn to the Right was so great that it was held over.

First performed in America by a company led by comedian William H. Crane, it played a short try-out season in Buffalo and Philadelphia ahead of opening at New York’s Knickerbocker Theatre in December 1913. The play was a modernisation by Smith and Mapes of a play by Bronson Howard, The Henrietta, originally performed in 1887 with Crane as Nicholas Vanalstyne and Stuart Robson as his son Bertie. With the new play, Crane reprised his old role, with Douglas Fairbanks as the new Bertie. Set in the world of the New York stock exchange, the plot centres on the head of a wealthy family who owns the controlling interest in a copper mine, ‘The New Henrietta’. When his daughter’s husband seeks to obtain control of the mine by gambling his father-in-law’s money on the exchange, he is thwarted at the last moment by his brother-in-law, Bertie, whom everyone had written off as a fop and nonentity.

The New Henrietta received its first Australian outing in Brisbane, with seasons in Newcastle, Hobart, Launceston and Adelaide—and New Zealand to follow. Walter P. Richardson played the mining magnate, with John Junior as Bertie, and Lilian Tucker and Gaston Mervale as his daughter and son-in-law. Other roles were played by Lizette Parkes, Gerald Kay Souper and Francee Anderson, with Emily Fitzroy as a fashionable widow.

Though the plot reads as serious drama, the play contained many comic elements, notably the final act, which was described by the Sydney Bulletin (3 January 1918) as ‘genuine comedy’:

The millionaire, faced with ruin and harried by love for the widow, smashes a panic in Wall-street, and in the feverish intervals of interviewing brokers, telephoning bankers, assaulting intruding visitors and using language to his scurrying clerks, manages to propose to the lady.

The play, however, did not appeal to Sydneysiders, and from Saturday 12 January 1918, just three weeks into the run, Turn to the Right was substituted.

To be continued

Endnotes

1. Daily Telegraph (Sydney), 20 December 1916, p.12. The same article also noted that Peg o’ My Heart ‘holds the record for the longest run of any comedy played in Australasia’.

2. The Mirror of Australia(Sydney), 23 December 1916, p.12. A.J. Pearce took over the role of Brent prior to the New Zealand tour. He had been serving as stage manager since the commencement of the Australian tour.

3. World’s News (Sydney), 10 February 1917, p.5. See also Sydney Morning Herald, 10 February 1917, p.8. Sadly, there are no photographs of the theatre’s interior at this time, but it seems the original proscenium arch, balcony fronts and ceiling dome were still extant.

4. ‘E.J. Tait’s Return: Theatrical Novelties for 1917’, Daily Telegraph (Sydney), 13 January 1917, p.14.

5. ibid.

6. A version of the musical, adapted by Bartholomae, played a short tryout season in Schenectady, Albany and New Haven during November 1915, but due to negative reviews, Guy Bolton was engaged to totally rework the script for its Broadway premiere. According to James Leve (American Musical Theater, p.62), Bolton ‘retained some of Bartholomae’s lines but restructured the subplots and expunged the political content, including most of the references to the suffragist movement. Bolton’s revised script was less confusing, but lost some of the original’s comic intrigue. It retained some of Schuyler Greene’s lyrics and included new ones by Herbert [Reynolds]’.

7. ‘E.J. Tait’s Return: Theatrical Novelties for 1917’, Daily Telegraph (Sydney), 13 January 1917, p.14.

8. Daily Telegraph (Sydney), 7 March 1917, p.11

9. Referee (Sydney), 14 March 1917, p.14

10. The Lone Hand (Sydney), 2 September 1918, p.435

11. Sydney Morning Herald, 2 July 1917, p.

12. Bulletin (Sydney), 5 July 1917, p.

13. The Sun (Sydney), 30 September 1917, p.2

14. Barrier Miner (Broken Hill), 8 June 1917, p.4

References

Gerald Bordman, The Oxford Companion to American Theatre, Oxford University Press, 1984

James Leve, American Musical Theater, Oxford University Press, 2016

Viola Tait, A Family of Brothers: The Taits and J.C. Williamson; a theatre history, Heinemann, Melbourne, 1971

Newspapers

Trove, trove.nla.gov.au

Pictures

National Library of Australia, Canberra

New York Public Library, New York

University of Wisconsin-Madison Libraries

With thanks to

Rob Morrison