By M. B.
"HER LAST ADVENTURE"
Beginning of Act II, Scene 2: "Disused Kitchen in Basement at The Folly."— "Ooh! It reminds me of Crippen!" remarked a young lady in the stalls in a whisper loud enough to be heard through half the theatre. In her case, at any rate, Mrs. Belloc-Lowndes, the author, seemed to have got her intended effect. Unfortunately everyone else tittered, and the tittering represented the spirit of the house.
They might have done worse, for there was nothing particularly funny about a play in which a young lady meets an unpleasant man by chance, decides to have with him her last adventure before settling down to be married, has the adventure in a disused house in which—unknown to her and the audience—there lies the corpse of her young man's murdered wife, is traced by the police and saved from publicity by the suicide of the mur
derer-lover. That, believe it or not, is absolutely all. We suspected that there must have been a corpse about, but we never knew whether we were being had on, so we waited patiently hoping against hope that we were going to enjoy a denouement which would retrospectively
vitalise the whole story. Not a bit of it. There was a corpse, but we did not even see it.
Still, no mere man could possibly count an evening wasted during which he could dreamily contemplate the beauty and charm of Miss Jane Carr, and surely no woman could fail to come away wondering what her sex sees in the male species —even so, it would take a pretty blind woman to see anything in a last adventure with Jim Malton, as played by Mr. George Mulcaster. Nor did we ever suspect that a detective could look so dapper and lawyer-like as Mr. Neville Brook.
The pith of Her. Last Adventure might make a reasonable curtain-raiser or excellent Grand Guignol, but a three-act play with six scenes at 12/6 a stall, no!
" SPREAD IT ABROAD"
Revue in the true sense is not as much to the _taste. of British audiences as it is abroad. It requires satire and wit rather than humour. Moreover, the breath of censorship, especially on political grounds, blights the inspiration. Yet in this cold climate, where people tend to gloat over the matter of a joke instead of enjoying its point, censorship is niore necessary than ever.
Despite these . handicaps Mr. William Oalker's current revue at the Saville is thoroughly enjoyable and occasionally really clever. The best of the sketches were News Reel, Dirty Songs—a splendid interlude which made some "nice" people squirm, and Impersonations. Miss Ivy St. Helier and Mr. Nelson Keys bear the heaviest burdens magnificently, but Mr. Lyle Evans comes a close third. Dorothy Dickson shoving holiday snaps was delightful and Tessa Deane can charm as well as sing a song.