Word: sams
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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FOUR episodes in the rise of a New Yorker constitute this new and ingenious play--an experiment in dramatic biography. Sidney Howard like Eugene O'Neill ever concerns himself with exploiting unguessed possibilities of the drama, and his latest production, "Lucky Sam McCarver', rivals if not surpasses O'Neill's "The Great God Brown". As proteges of Professor Baker, both playwrights have done not a little to enhance his established reputation, and even the most casual acquaintance with their work reveals the fact that they are perpetuating the best traditions of the deceased 47 Workshop. Despite divergent individualities, they both...
That "Lucky Sam McCarver" failed it when received it first presentation in New York' argues nothing for or against its dramatic value for three reasons. The play is a pioneer, and as such, it may have been unjustly tomahawk by obtuse or conventional critics. The play may have been badly staged, acted, lighted, costumed, or advertised; it may have been,--for one is almost as fatal as the other-too hastily produced or too long rehearsed. Lastly, the play may have suffered as a propitiation to the undiscerning public who can not accept an idea or a new technique without...
Those who were not fortunate enough to view "Lucky Sam McCarver" while it lived, moved, breathed, and had its being can only determine its worth by reading--a test theoretically most satisfactory and at once most difficult, for a play is meant to be seen acted and not to be read. Obviously the experiment lacks certain dramatic elements, hitherto regarded as indispensable--plot, idea, and hero and heroine in the accepted sense of the words. Yet in just the same manner these alleged necessities are completely missing in John dos Passos' new novel, "Manhattan Transfer,' an innovation which has been...
...Lucky Sam McCarver" is no minutely tortuous study. On the contrary, it moves tersely, racily. It is as essentially dramatic as it is biographical. Sam McCarver, who rose from the gutter and is on the make, is no character for a Ph. D. thesis...
...bonnet; she rubbed one eye until it was clear and glanced sharply from side to side like a bird. Let the people stare at her if they wanted to- let them think she was crazy; she'd never tell. Why should she? They'd never believe her. Sam wouldn't know her now-teeth all gone, face wrinkled, hand turned brown. Let them look at her. The college scholar was telling them the truth. She was that golden girl. She was Becky Thatcher, the flower of Missouri...