The Play’s the Thing

Over the years I have seen many plays in theatres great and small. The first play I saw professionally staged was Seán O’Casey‘s The Plough and the Stars at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre in 1966; I still remember it.

There must be a few people who remember going to Romeo and Juliet at the New Theatre in St Martin’s Lane in 1935. It was an extraordinary production not least because virtually the whole cast are household names today – well in households where books and history have their place and flames still flicker in the candelabra of culture. John Gielgud directed and played Mercutio; Romeo and Juliet were played by Laurence Olivier and Peggy Ashcroft; Nurse, Edith Evans; Benvolio, Glen Byam Shaw; Peter, George Devine; Apothecary, Alec Guinness.

I cannot improve on this summary of the production from Over The Footlights:

1935: John Gielgud’s production of “Romeo and Juliet” at the New Theatre opened on October 17th, and was immediately hailed as the “most memorable experience the stage of our lifetime has had to offer”, and was said to mark the pinnacle of the great renaissance in Shakespearean acting that has been arousing admiration in recent years.
The critics did not know where to begin with their superlatives. Peggy Ashcroft as Juliet was praised for her flawless performance – no one else has matched her for the appearance of youth with the experience of years demanded by the role. She dominates the action and is breathtakingly moving. Edith Evans’ Nurse “glows with humanity”. Laurence Olivier’s Romeo has a boyish energy and ardour never seen before by contemporary audiences and John Gielgud’s Mercutio is acclaimed as the most poetically moving in anyone’s experience. The production, by Gielgud, was described as fast-moving, ingenious and beautifully costumed. The critics agreed this was one of the best things they had ever seen on the London stage.
Five weeks later the critics were invited back to review a “new” cast. Laurence Olivier and John Gielgud had exchanged roles. This astonishing demonstration of versatility and bravado brought forward another hail of superlatives. Gielgud’s Romeo is “magical in masculine glamour”, and is not a mere performance, but Romeo brought to life. Olivier’s Mercutio is a bravura performance of gaiety, whimsicality and ferocity all merged into one.
Everyone agrees this is among the most magnificent performances of all time and is certainly one that will become part of the Legend of British Theatre.

Looking back it seems as if this production is the stuff dreams are made of. James Agate, Sunday Times critic, demurred. Here is a sentence that gives a flavour of his prolix review:

I have not space to enumerate the admirable supporting cast, and can only congratulate Mr Gielgud upon a production triumphant everywhere despite the fact that Romeo cannot speak his part, Juliet cannot act more than half of hers, and Mercutio is topsy?turvy.

In Ego 2 Agate quotes two contrasting letters commenting on a talk he gave about the production.

”After your Theatre Talk of last night the only conclusion that one can come to is that you are the possessor of a very small, mean and petty mind.”

“Dear Sir, A thousand thanks for your theatre talk to-night. How wonderful it was to hear the real art of discontent. I do not see that any actor or actress need be sore at being the subject of your discontent. Rather should they emerge from it with a certain pride, as people about whom lightning has played during a storm. I felt sorry for Mr — who had to follow you at the microphone. The only person to follow you is Interval. J.A.M.”

I wonder what James Agate would have thought of this?