Word: cowardly
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Michael was not a coward. He had been decorated in the Albanian campaign and remembered what the front in northern Greece was like. Now he had better things to do. He had inherited Greece's largest department store and had settled down in a luxurious apartment with his attractive wife and a young daughter. So, when he was called up a few months ago, he devised a plan. He located a former employee, now destitute and suffering from tuberculosis, supplied him witha forged identity card and paid him $1,500 to appear as Michael Chryssicopoulos before an army medical...
WHRV will broadcast the Harvard Radio Workshop production of Noel Coward's "Private Lives" tonight. The HRW adaption of the Coward play, in which Tallulah Bankhead currently stars on Broadway, was made in 1945. Anna Prince '48, recently featured in "Amphitryon 38," Bob Miller '48, Harvard Dramatic Club president, Daniel Nichell '45, and Lydia Hind make up the four character cast...
Even when it was new, 17 years ago, Noel Coward's Private Lives was no great shakes as a play. When it was revived this fall on Broadway, it had plainly not improved with the years. But last week, as it has for the past six weeks, Private Lives was packing the Plymouth Theater with as many standees as the New York Fire Department will allow. What the customers were crowding to see was not so much a play as a remarkable personality with a remarkable name: Tallulah Bankhead...
...successful story in the magazine. Of the three stories left, I liked "Perchance To Dream," by George Rinebart '50, the best, possibly because I couldn't quite figure out the point of the other two. "Perchance To Dream" is chiefly a dialogue piece, in spirit a combination of Noel Coward, James Thurber, and Evclyn Waugh. Here again a good editor would have made a big difference. The dialogue in places is poor, and no good editor would let Mr. Rinchart write instead of a simple "he said," such things as he started, he snarled, she snapped, she giggled, said...
...Coward's tale of a divorced couple who meet again on their second honeymoon, fly their new mates, and let fly (between endearments) at each other, once seemed as faintly decadent as chain-smoking. In the Bankhead version, it is as strenuous as football. Miss Bankhead, between moments of dreamy ladylikeness during which she is probably catching her breath, coils, snarls, pounces, crunches her lines, turns throbbing baritone, and in general portrays what appears to be the love of Mt. Vesuvius for a mortal...