The General

"The General" is a play of the times, of the ideas that lurk behind headlines crying problem, red hunt. It deals with the gnosis of lost causes exhumed to terrorize and destroy men who cheated for them "in another time and in another country." Most of all, it is a play about a certain general who never existed and who, I doubt, could ever exist. In "Billy Budd" Robert chapman and Louis Coxe created a personification of good, and no one questioned whether or not he ever walked the face of this earth, because it didn't matter. "Billy Budd" was too much a parable, and its setting in another century on the high seas made unreal characters more royal, in many ways, than flesh and blood can ever be. This general, however, is another good nor evil; he is an Old Testament Jehovah, a god-man who cannot break a code of justice. The general is not a thinker, though he must decide what fits the law; he is basically, and in spite of his final decision, one who must always take orders. Although he seems to become momentarily human in his final decision, this is an illusion; gods connote stop, and neither can the general resign.

Like Billy Budd, the general might have come to life on a battlefield removed from his world of the pentagon. In this setting, he too often cramps the other, more real characters, who seem straining to become human. A state department official, another general, a newspaper reporter--these characters are nearer our reality, although all of them are just a bit too good. even their mistakes occurred because they were always doing what they thought was right.

Throughout the play, they and the general speak out ideas about loyalty, trust, obligation; and though some of the ideas are disguised as fooling, and the emotion sometimes breaks through in torrid verbiage, more often the lines seem cold and academic. They are important ideas, challouging, but they seem out of books, not warm breasts.

This is never the fault of the acting, which is worthy of the greatest pries. Donald Stewart, as the general, is magnificent in one of the most difficult parts I have ever seen. The language Coxe and Chapman have written for him often seem to belie the meaning of the lines. This general, a man of high principle and absolute truth, is in essence a simple man; he can remove himself from the dirt of the arena because his principles are so ingrained he is incapable of inductive thinking. He believes that the end can never justify the means largely because he is incapable of being so moved by a passion that it seems more important that anything else. He, who never existed, dreams back to a world of chivalry and personal trust which also never existed. His language should be direct and unequivocal; but Chapman and Coxe have given him too many flowery metaphors, words he should never utter. Yet Stewart is able to put the general's spirit into these lines.

Michael Mary, General Masters, also has a difficult role. The transition from the hard, world-wise crynie of the first act to the man with a past of blazing idealism is a difficult one, and I am not sure that the play fully explains it. Mabry, however, skillfully controls Master's staccato efficiency and constrained pleading with the general. For Masters to be clear, we must see him as one who flight his causes with objective, calculating tactile, rather than the more burning idealism of Benson, the state department official who has been subpoenaed before a Congressional investigating committee.

In Benson's rele, Neil Powell, achieves the high level of the other two performances as does Robin Ladd, as the general's WAC accrotary and Robort Layzer as a newspaper man. Benson, like Masters, has committee one error, but even more than Masters, he needs desperately to have the general's benediction on his integrity. Both Men find it hard to believe the general is real, but both find it easy to believe in him. He is an ideal which they must protect from any corruption, in order that the general may be able to remain a salvaged weapon of a lost battle after they are buried in the slime of newsprint.

These three characters and the newspaper reporter, though some times more sounding boards than functioning individuals, do have a certain life which has spring from the intensity of the author. The general's son, however, lacks this fire. During the plam, he is often accused of talking like a character from a slick magazine, and I am afraid that is what he too often is. His change, from father hater to worshipper must be taken mostly on faith, Robin Homet plays this part bravely, but the lines are stacked too heavily against him.

A few words must be added in praise of the brilliant revolving set by Richard Higgens, of Anthony Herrey's settings and of Irving Yeskowitz's excellent production which does wonders with the Pl Eta's cramped stage. As for Coxe and Chapman, they have given their audience stimulating ideas, especially apt today, but the unreality and inconsistencies of their characters often make these ideas confusing.