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Evening With Saroyan

At Leverett House

By Thomas K. Schwabacher

An evening in the theatre with William Saroyan is likely to be a confusing experience. In most of his plays, the California writer laughingly throws away plot, character development, time, and even the idea that the footlight mark a rigid line which separates the actors from the audience. In the end, all that is left behind is Saroyan, glibly tossing out an idea and then circling around to laugh at it.

When the Leverett House Dramatic Society took it upon themselves to tie three of his one-act plays down to the boards of their dining hall stage, they attempted a hob that has frightened several Broadway producers. On the whole, however, their efforts are quite successful. In one of the plays, they rise to a level very close to professional polish and capability.

It takes some time, however, before the evening with Saroyan reaches its high point. The first play, a short sketch called The Beautiful People, is in many ways the least satisfactory of the three. Part of the fault is the author's--the scene is merely an aimless dialogue between a fifteen-year-old boy and an elderly woman who, for some unexplained reason, comes to the boy's house to see his father. The two discuss a wide and wild range of subjects, from mice than can spell to the boy's one-word novel, Tree. Saroyan here probably tried to show how difficult it is for the boy, and perhaps man in general, to communicate. But the demonstration sinks into confusion.

Robert H. Secrist, as the boy, apparently understands his role quite well. At times, he manages to project pained convulsions of a character who is really mute despite a surface glibness. But at other times, Secrist seems only affected, and the kid becomes too cute for words. Elaine Gordon, on the other hand, gives a performance as the elderly woman that is too restrained. Both the actors and Earle Edgerton, who directed the first play, tired hard, but they just did not have the material with which to work.

When the curtain rises on the second play, however, most of the faults of the earlier sketch are soon forgotten. Not that this second play, Across the Board on Tomorrow Morning, is perfect. Set in a New York restaurant, it too has no discernible plot and merely states some fairly vague ideas on the nature of reality. But the skill of the actors makes a play which might well have been tedious into amusing and sometimes though-provoking entertainment.

Across the Board on Tomorrow Morning exhibits by far the best acting of the evening. In the difficult part of a philosophical waiter who steps out of character to acts as commentator, Arthur Lewis gives a polished and confident performance. He is not at all stricken with the curse of uncertainty common in many amateur actors. Martin Mintz, who portrays a cab driver, shows a similar surety, and also posses a seemingly instinctive sense of comedy and timing. A a somewhat irrational restaurant customer, Peter Hugen is less effective because he is not quite in control of either his voice or his gestures. The other members of the cast, especially Michael Harwood, Earle Edgerton, and Ann Rand, are capable but overshadowed by Mintz and Lewis.

The last of the plays, Hello Out There, is also the clearest and most disciplined of the three. Saroyan this time managed to say something perceptive about loneliness by means of the story of a man unjustly jailed for rape, and he does it without resorting to tricks or metaphysics. Tony Winsor, the accused, and Margaret S. Groome, a shy girl who falls in love with him, are quite satisfactory in their roles. They might be even better, however, if they could suppress a tendency to shout. An additional and unnecessary note of wildness is added by the direction if Michael Harwood, who made his actors speak much faster than they should.

Still, by adding excitement to Saroyan's frequent humor, this last play does its part to make the presentation a success. With the help of some fine acting, and with the aid of Geoffrey Chalmer's restrained but effective sets, the Leverett House Dramatic Society proves that an evening with Saroyan can be a very satisfactory evening indeed.

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