He Who Gets Slapped (Zilboorg 1949)

Produced in modern dress—white ties and evening gowns—at the Cort Theatre in New York with Katharine Cornell as Antigone and Sir Cedric Hardwicke as Creon. The two sons of Oedipus, late King of the ancient Greek city of Thebes, had started a civil war and both were killed. Their uncle Creon became Regent. This version of the ancient Greek legend comes from a Paris that was suffering under the heel of Nazi tyranny. The play’s parallels to modern times are easily grasped, are exciting and provocative. Creon, resembling in thought and action a latter day Totalitarian, ordains that one of the brothers who had in his opinion provoked the civil war be left unburied—carrion for dogs and vultures. Antigone, an individualist clinging to a higher law, covers the body of per brother with earth. Creon has her buried alive for punishment, which act brings About the death of his son, who was in love with Antigone, provokes his wife into taking her own life, and eventually brings about his own ruin. “The first really thought-provoking play to come along for some time.”—New York Post.

Price, $1.25. (Royalty, $25–$20.)

Opened at the National Theatre in New York to the unanimous acclaim of the critics, who agreed that this is a play for actual performance in the theatre as well as for the contemplation and enjoyment of the discerning reader. This, his most eloquent drama, reaffirms Jeffers' preeminent place among modern poets. In this version of the Greek Classic, the ambitious Jason forsakes Medea, his foreign wife, and takes a new bride for political advancement. Now alone in a strange land, Medea rages with thoughts of revenge. On the day of her banishment she succeeds in bringing death to the new young bride and the most wanton horror to her husband, Jason. “Euripides’ tragedy, Medea, with the new words by Robinson Jeffers, and the works, in the way of acting, by Judith Anderson, won cheers and thirteen curtain calls last night at the National Theatre."—N. Y. Daily News.

Price, $1.25. (Royalty, $50–$25.)

Sir Laurence Olivier and Anthony Quinn played the Broadway parts of this tragic relationship between the primitive-minded King of England and the introspective intellectual who had been his dear friend but who became his implacable enemy when the king’s intrigue raised him to the hierarchy of the church. An ironic struggle between two towering antagonists of history. “A stirring drama about fascinating figures. It would be distinguished in any season . . . Exciting, stimulating, full-blooded theatre.”—N.Y. Mirror.

 11em

In this, his most haunting play, Anouilh presents us with a count who has decided to do an old French play, and has cast and costumed in the principal roles himself, his wife, his mistress, and his wife’s lover. As the characters wait for their rehearsal cues they drift imperceptibly in the cynicism of the historical period. A pretty young girl, who supervises 12 orphans, is the lure to the men and to the tragedy of truth that follows. “The effect in the theatre is brilliant and bitter . . . The tenderness is real, and its effect is to make us gasp at the damage it is going to do in a world that had planned no room for it.”—N.Y. Herald-Tribune.