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ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN (1841-1901) |
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THEATRE REVIEWS 15. Lottie (1884)
Lottie *Lottie was produced at the Novelty Theatre when Robert Buchanan and Harriett Jay were both in America. There was no author’s name attached to the play but seeing as it was an adaptation of Harriett Jay’s novel, Through the Stage Door, the subsequent attribution to Robert Buchanan seems fairly certain, as is Harriett Jay’s involvement in the adaptation. |
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[Advert for first night of Lottie from The Times (20 November, 1884)]
The Times (21 November, 1884 - p.10) NOVELTY THEATRE. Miss Nelly Harris, despite her vigorous and plucky management, has not yet contrived to break the temporary spell of ill-luck that seems to have fallen upon this theatre. The new comedy Lottie produced last night will not help to retrieve the misfortunes of Polly. On the contrary it has not even the attractiveness of that piece, but recalls by the crudity of its workmanship and the feebleness of its story some of the dreariest souvenirs of the oldest playgoer. The author withheld his name from the bills, and in doing so gave proof of better judgment than his handiwork displayed. In response to the applause of what seemed to be a claque in the pit Mr. Harry Nichols, who had been playing in the piece, came forward and intimated that the author would be communicated with, but when the cry was raised “Who is he?” he only vouchsafed the dubious information that he “had never heard of the gentleman.” If Lottie is a favourable sample of his dramatic ability, it is not likely the public will want to hear of “the gentleman” again. The story of the piece resembles that of Caste in so far as it deals with one of those acquaintances made at the stage-door which ripen into marriage. It contrasts the humble hearth of an actor of the “legitimate” and his family with the interior of a country mansion, whither a young lady who does “juvenile lead” is conducted by an aristocratic admirer in virtue of le bon motif. But the subject is treated with such a lack of truth and with such feebleness of purpose that it gets no hold of the spectator’s sympathies. The author writes from the stage point of view. His theatrical personages are all estimable to the last degree, and contrast favourably for the most part with the “swells” with whom they come into contact. Lottie’s contemplated marriage with Colonel Sedgmoor is, indeed, retarded for a whole act by the unworthy scheming of the colonel’s sister and the no less unworthy conduct of another officer and gentlemen in seeking to compromise his friend’s fiancée. This is a wide departure from Caste, but there are strong suggestions of that piece in Lottie’s having a sister, also in the “profession,” who keeps company with a comic young man connected with the music-halls. In addition to the latter character, the comic element is represented in a clerical gentleman of indefinite rank in the Church—his legs being suggestive of a colonial bishopric, while his headgear is of a purely lay type—who “penetrates behind the scenes,” and who may be strongly suspected of writing theatrical testimonials. In the last scene we are introduced to the green room of a theatre where several of the characters promenade in costume, as in Adrienne Lecouvreur, Lottie, for example, appearing in the garb of Ophelia. The acting does full justice to the piece. Miss Lydia Cowell plays Lottie with an amount of brightness and feeling which in a stronger part would command attention. She is cleverly seconded by Miss Leslie Bell. Mr. Harry Nicholls for his part draws an amusing sketch of the lion comique, who works “three ’alls” of an evening; and half-a-dozen other ladies and gentlemen make up a picturesque and efficient cast. ___
The Era (22 November, 1884 - Issue 2409) “LOTTIE” AT THE NOVELTY. Mr Fane . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr HARRY PARKER When at the Novelty Theatre on the evening of Thursday last Mr Harry Nicholls came before the curtain at the end of the piece named above, and informed the tolerably large and apparently well-pleased audience that he would convey their compliments to the author, there was put with surprising unanimity the question, “Who is he?” to which the actor made reply, and said, “Well, I cannot say, as I have never in all my life before heard of the gentleman.” This great unknown we would seriously advise to remain in the obscurity he seemed to prefer on Thursday evening, for his work is anything but creditable to his taste, his judgment, or his skill; and although on its initial representation it made the unthinking laugh, there is no denying the fact that it also made the judicious grieve. And by the judicious we mean those who have the best interests of the stage at heart; those who would not see members of the profession, so to speak, fouling their own nest; and those who think that evil rather than good must come of turning the theatre, as it were, inside out, and of revealing to the public secrets with which they can have no concern. We understand that Lottie is an adaptation of Miss Harriet Jay’s novel called “Through the Stage Door,” but we speak with no authority on this point, not having perused the work, but we shall say very emphatically that in the first place there was no necessity for the author of the so-called comedy to expose what he calls stage life, and, secondly, that if he thought there was, he is to be severely condemned for showing it in its coarsest and most vulgar aspect. One of his dramatis personæ, a representative of the ballet or burlesque, when reminded by her ultra-theatrical mother of her duty to art, is made to reply “Oh, bother art!” and the author of Lottie we can imagine echoing her words and endorsing them with the vulgar comment,” them’s my sentiments.” All through Lottie he seems to us to be saying, “Bother art! Let art take care of itself; let the stage be degraded; let the seamy side of the profession be turned uppermost for the gods to laugh at; what care I, if success, which means money, attend my efforts?” We have said before, and we say again, that such pieces as Lottie, with its stage-door and its green-room, and its actors and actresses making up, and with swells of high and low degree gaining easy admittance, tend to bring about that familiarity which, according to proverbial philosophy, is productive of contempt. Happily, apart from its grossly bad taste and its vulgarity, Lottie is a weak piece, weak in construction, weak in dialogue, and flimsy in the extreme in plot. Such story as there is is very soon told. Colonel Sedgmoor, a regular patron of the drama, has seen upon the stage Lottie Fane, who belongs to a theatrical family, and has fallen in love with her. His intentions are “strictly honourable,” and he visits her in her humble home, is introduced to her homely old father, to her very theatrical mother, to her sister who belongs to burlesque, and to her sister’s “young man,” who is a comic singer. He proposes for her hand, and is accepted, and we see that there is a chance that she will escape the not too honourable attentions of another admirer in the person of Captain Forrester, who is the Colonel’s so-called friend. The marriage would duly take place but for the sudden interference of the military authorities, who order the Colonel’s regiment away to the Cape. Lottie, however, is installed as mistress at Sedgmoor Hall, and is to await the Colonel’s return. Her lot, though, is not a happy one, for she has to submit to the sneers of the Colonel’s sister, who, having kept house for him for years, is determined if possible to retain her position, and to do everything in her power to prevent the alliance of her aristocratic brother with a low-born actress. She, with this object in view, rather encourages the attentions of Captain Forrester to Lottie, and goes so far as to suggest that she should accompany him to London to see her sister in a new part. Finding her effort in this direction fail, she intercepts the Colonel’s letter to Lottie announcing his immediate return, and takes care that she shall hear while she tells to the village parson a lie concerning the Colonel’s altered views, and of his desire to be rid of a discreditable engagement. Lottie’s pride is wounded, and she at once leaves the house with Forrester, and proceeds to town, Miss Sedgmoor receiving her brother, imparting to him the views of his supposed disgrace, and contriving that her story shall be strengthened by Lottie’s opened letter, which she—the sister—has placed upon her dressing-table. The first scene of the third act is the stage-door of the theatre where Carrie Fane is engaged, and to which Lottie has returned, having accepted an offer for the part of Ophelia. Here the Colonel meets Forrester and quarrels with him over what he considers his treachery; here, too, he meets his sister, and casts her off for ever; here the comic singer meets the parson, and takes him behind the scenes to do what he calls his duty, which is to make a clean breast of it and to clear the character of the heroine. Then the curtain having been lowered “for two minutes only,” we are allowed to see the interior of the green-room—where explanations ensue, where mistakes are cleared away, and where Lottie once more allows the amorous Colonel to take her to his arms, and to promise to make her his wife. The amusement of Thursday night’s audience resulted mainly from the clever impersonation given by Mr Harry Nicholls of “the Great Jinks.” Mr Nicholls has evidently made a close study of the manners and customs of the “lion comique” and other “artistes” of the music hall stage, and his little bits of professional slang and his easy and vulgar familiarity with colonels and captains, and parsons and other people supposed to be his superiors, tickled the risibility of all present, and compelled merriment. Mr Harry Parker did his best with the by no means thankful part of the father of Lottie; as did Mr Sutherland with the ridiculously drawn character of Colonel Sedgmoor. Mr. W. H. Day was much too stiff and formal to be altogether satisfactory as the unprincipled Captain Forrester; but Mr Percy Bell, in make up and acting, showed abundant skill as the clerical Dr. Perkins, who in the green-room is made to survey the legs of an actress, and to ask if her costume is not somewhat cold. Miss Fanny Robertson played very cleverly and consistently throughout as the mother, who is a sort of tragedy queen even in her own home, and who cannot talk of onion sauce or other domestic trifles except in the voice of a Lady Macbeth. Miss Dolores Drummond, able actress as she is, could do nothing with so miserable a part as that of Miss Sedgmoor. Miss Leslie Bell took pains to bring out into prominence all the vulgarity of the young lady, who says “bother art;” and Miss Lydia Cowell played with much skill, intelligence, and tact as Lottie, the little bit of pathos and pride combined at the end of the second act assisting to secure her well-deserved honours. We never like to hope for failure, but we shall not hesitate to say that when Lottie disappears, as it shortly must, from the Novelty stage, it will not be followed by our regrets. It belongs to a class which seriously damages instead of serving the interests of the dramatic art. ___
Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper (23 November, 1884 - Issue 2192) PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. NOVELTY THEATRE. The new comedy, Lottie—understood to have been adapted from Miss Harriet Jay’s story, “Through the Stage Door”—is a disappointing piece of dramatic workmanship; and is, moreover, characterised by singularly bad taste. While assuming to defend the theatrical profession it in reality degrades it, by representing actors and actresses as ignorant, vulgar, and offensive, so that they become objects of ridicule, if not contempt. Stage customs and ways are easily turned to comic account, and when Queen Gertrude is heard discoursing of mutton and onion sauce in the same tones in which she rates Hamlet, laughter naturally ensues. But there is neither art nor cleverness in such work, and we can only condole with the company called upon to carry it out. Miss Lydia Cowell is an actress of known delicacy and refinement, and she displayed some very pretty touches of feeling, though the manner in which Lottie is tempted by a vicious Captain, after being honourably wooed and won by a gallant Colonel, proves fatal to sympathetic interest in her career. The leading comic character is a music-hall singer, “the Great Jinks;” Mr. Harry Nicholls must be credited with giving it striking individuality. Some among the audience, indeed, recognised in it a distinct imitation of a living “artiste;” and the applause was general as well as liberal. None the less, the humour seemed ill-timed, and had an unpleasant flavour. A reverend gentleman, who is taken behind the scenes for the first time, enabled Mr. Percy Bell to introduce a really fine piece of character-acting. Miss Dolores Drummond played a treacherous and designing woman so cleverly as to be hissed, according to the now common custom of greeting the villains of the play. The cast was good all round, Miss Fanny Robertson, Miss Leslie Bell, Mr. Harry Parker, Mr. Sutherland, and Mr. Day acting with earnestness and effect. Mr. Nicholls appeared in response to a call for the author, and said he had never heard his name. Owing to the indisposition of Miss Lydia Thompson, the burlesque announced for Thursday evening was postponed, the closing item being A Rough Diamond, with Mr. Fred Vokes and Miss Victoria Vokes as Joe and Majory. ___
The Daily News (24 November, 1884) Mr. Mortimer asks us to deny the truth of the statement which has been made in some quarters that he is the author of the new comedy entitled “Lottie,” and produced last week at the Novelty Theatre. As a matter of fact, the piece is an adaptation by Mr. Robert Buchanan of Miss Harriett Jay’s novel “Through the Stage-door.” ___
The Penny Illustrated Paper (29 November, 1884 - Issue 1223, p.347) The theme of “Lottie,” the new three-act comedy brought out at the Novelty, was treated so much better by Tom Robertson in “Caste,” that it was questionable policy to produce “Lottie.” The spirited acting of Mr. Harry Nicholls as the “Great Jinks,” of Miss Dolores Drummond as Miss Sedgemore, and of Mr. W. R. Sutherland as the military lover was thrown away; as was the native grace of Miss Lydia Cowell as Lottie, and the vim of Miss Robertson. ___
The Graphic (29 November, 1884 - Issue 783) Mr. James Mortimer asks us to say that the statement that he is the author of Lottie, recently produced at the NOVELTY Theatre, is erroneous. The piece referred to is an adaptation by Mr. Robert Buchanan of Miss Harriett Jay’s novel Through the Stage Door. ___
The Theatre (1 December, 1884 - p.306-307) “LOTTIE.” |
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Toujours Perdrix! Are we not getting a little tired of the back attic actress and the patronizing swell, the humble rival, the dirty table-cloth, and the eternal smell of onions? It may be all true, but who cares to be so constantly reminded of it? We have heard all about it before in “Caste” with infinitely more tact, and, in Triplet’s lodgings with infinitely more pathos; so why go over the old ground in this crude and unsatisfactory fashion. We know all the puppets by heart before the curtain rises. The father is a seedy and broken down actor, who talks of Kean, the palmy days and the legitimate drama, and who spends his time in copying out manuscripts and smoking strong shag tobacco. The mother struts about as a tragedy queen, and uses stale stage phrases for her every-day parlance, an impossible woman in real life, and only to be tolerated in a wild burlesque. The eldest girl, who is the heroine of romantic drama, is adored by some swell in the stalls, who makes honourable love to her on the sly, and would die rather than hurt a hair of her head; the younger sister is flighty, coarse, and vulgar, who says “Bother art!” and unites herself to a low music-hall singer, who struts about and makes an audience of shop-boys roar when he alludes to “the Pav. and the Met. and the Troc.” Once having got these stupid lay figures or dummies together, the movement begins. The everlasting discussion of stage morality is carried on ad nauseam. The wicked seducer comes to the virtuous home to tempt the romantic heroine from her family circle. The middle-aged “masher,” with grey hair and a faultless collar, enters the abode of bliss, and discovers the united family wallowing in onions and revelling in slang. Society pitches into the stage and the stage into society. A lady of birth and breeding very properly resents the insult of introducing to her presence a low music-hall cad in preposterous costume, and an impertinent minx whose place ought to be the back kitchen, and thereupon the stage-struck novelist attempts to show that society is very harsh and intolerant toward the ill-used and hard-working profession. Society is nothing of the kind. There never was a time when society committed such solecisms for the sake of patronizing and petting the stage. Actors who are educated, and can behave themselves like gentlemen, get into good clubs and are received anywhere. Actresses who insist upon being taken at their own valuation force themselves into society, and are alternately patronized or ignored. As for the rest, if they like onions and pots of porter, and penny cheroots and music-hall slang, let them keep to themselves, and not whine because those of gentle birth and breeding don’t care to associate with such people—very good, no doubt, in their way, but far happier where they are. Master-hands have drawn Costigan and the Fotheringays, Polly and old Eccles, Triplet and his children; but such pictures of the stage as are shown in “Lottie” are tawdry and ill-coloured at the best. That they are absurd goes without saying. The scenes in this play that occur outside the stage-door of a theatre and inside the green-room are palpably absurd to the least informed in such matters. We will take a stronger view still. The man or woman who, not being concerned in the profession of acting, ever ventures behind the scenes of a theatre does so to the dead destruction of all imagination. No one can find real pleasure in ripping up a doll and scattering the sawdust. Illusion, fancy, poetry—all disappear directly the footlights are crossed. If this be true of those who are sometimes compelled to act contrary to their inclination, how much truer it must be of the general public, who are not concerned in the petty and trivial details of an actor’s life. No good or careful acting could save such a play. Miss Lydia Cowell has great intelligence, she enters heart and soul into every character she personates, and she should certainly have permanent employment at one or other of the comedy houses; but she could do very little with the washed-out version of Esther Eccles. Mr. Harry Nicholls was cast for the music-hall comique, and made the part as funny as it was possible to make it; but, on the whole, there are few pleasant recollections in connection with a play that was at once commonplace and vulgar. ___
The New York Times (10 December, 1884) “Lottie,” a drama recently acted in London, is founded on a novel by Miss Harriet Jay called “Through the Stage Door,” and Mr. Robert Buchanan is credited with its authorship. _____
Next: Alone in London (1885)
Back to the Bibliography or the Plays or Harriett Jay Theatre Reviews
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