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Theater in Recent English Theater RUBY COHN Anathema to the naturalistic stage, theater in the English theater of the second halfofthe twentieth century exults in its own variety. Its principal structure, the play within the play, occupied the Renaissance stage, was whittled down to parody in the eighteenth century, and has reclaimed important areas of modern drama. Critics with their literary bias synonymize "theater in the theater" and "play within the play," but some recent English playwrights refuse to be bound by such strictures; along with many plays within plays, we find several ventures into popular theater in the theater, as well as elitist self-reflexive plays. POPULAR THEATER IN THE LEGITIMATE THEATER Popular theater was the mass medium of the nineteenth century, but my sub-heading points to the late twentieth-century innovation of incorporating forms of popular theater into more or less serious plays. Biographical shows like Noel and Gertie, Judy, or Piafnod toward stars of popular genres, but so-called legitimate drama has been spiced and even spliced by music-hall, pantomime, standup comedy, and film. (The circus, so fruitful for continental artists, seems alien to English temperame~t ~nd tradition.) Since most English theater remains insular, it looks exclusively to English popular forms. Theater historians hear the birth-cry ofcontemporary English Drama in John Osborne's Look Back in Anger of 1956 (e.g. John Russell Taylor's Anger and After), but today we recognize Anger's obedience to the well-worn three-act form of the problem play; the problem is the unfocused anger of the overeducated, emotionally starved postwar young Briton. To Osborne's credit, he no sooner mastered that old form than he cast it aside, and his subsequent plays take several shapes. The Entertainer (Royal Court, 1957), probably written with Laurence Olivier in mind, thrives on music-hall (or its virtual synonym, variety). The man praised as "the greatest actor ofour times" reacted 2 RUBY COHN negatively to Osborne's Look Back in Anger, but he nevertheless went backstage at the Royal Court to congratulate Osborne the actor and "boldly asked him if he might ever think of writing a play with me in mind.,,' It was a daring move for both principals: Olivier left the security of Shakespeare and latter-day rhetoric with a kind oflf-you-can't-lick-'em-join-'emjoy. (Later he would marry Joan Plowright of the Court Company.) Knowing nothing of Olivier's early variety stints, Osborne chose that metaphor for the fading glory of postwar Britain - a metaphor to be incarnated by an actor of noble roles. Osborne and director Tony Richardson piloted Olivier through the few remaining music-halls ofLondon, engaged an expert to teach him tap-dancing, and another expert to introduce a rasp into the famous mellifluous voice. Plays about entertainers were hardly new; .what WAS new about The Entertainer is the interdependence of structure and texture. In spite of the conventional two intermissions, the play moves through scenes rather than acts, and each scene is itself a music-hall number, sometimes accompanied by song. As Osborne specifies in his scenic directions: "The scenes and interludes must, in fact, be lit as if they were simply turns on the bill." The absorption of Sir Laurence by the adventurous Royal Court benefited both. Although music-hall duets had bounced on to the legitimate London stage over a year earlier - in Peter Hall's production of Waiting for Godot Osborne 's version was pitched to the star tum of Olivier as jaunty, raunchy, fantasizing, wise-cracking Archie Rice "'avin' ago," with three songs, dancing, and double entendres. Osborne depicts Archie as cruel and disloyal to his human family, but perversely loyal to his own art, the music-hall. Although Archie Rice is more ruthlessly etched than Jimmy Porter, Olivier aroused affection and admiration, even from his colleagues on stage: an old music-hall performer, George Relph, ruffled his feathers as a Billy Rice of dignified bigotry; Richard Pasco shaded Archie's son Frank with Branda toughness. Neither of the successive Jean Rices was "plain," as demanded by Osborne's text - not Dorothy Tutin's pert poignancy nor Joan Plowright's broad tolerance. Even without...

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