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Arsenic and Old Lace is a delightfully funny play. Neither age nor the not-quite-first-rate present production obscures more than a trifle of Mr. Kesselring's mad theatical gem.
The idea of Arsenic is improbable, and possible only because of the friendly insanity of the two heroines. The Brewster sisters do not merely murder; they simply help lonely old men find peace. They serve elderberry wine (to one gallon of wine, add one tsp. arsenic, one-half tsp. strychnine, and just a pinch of cyanide), and give each of their gentlemen a full burial in the rites of his religion. "Murder? Certainly not! It's one of our charities." And, in their sweet way, they have a point.
Madness gallops in their family: of their three nephews, Teddy is convinced he is Theodore Roosevelt, Jonathan is a psychopathic slaughterer, and Mortimer is a drama critic. The plot is a bit mad, and is far too intricately folded to describe. And it never ends. As the final curtain falls, a guest is raising his glass. "Elderberry wine is rare nowadays--I thought I'd had my last glass." "No," replies Aunt Martha, "Here it is."
Although the twisting plot and sharp lines are constantly amusing, the acting is not. Gertrude Berg, as Abby Brewster, has the juiciest role, but she is no more than adequate. As Molly Goldberg she was ideal, and her summer stock performance of the Josephine Hull role in Solid Gold Cadillac was loudly praised; in her present fuller, more enchanting Hull role she proves mostly that she just is not Josephine Hull. Instead of being a lovable white-haired darling of great sweetness, charm, and madness, she is usually only a housewife.
The role of Aunt Martha is pleasantly played by Helen Ray, who looks the part but sometimes tumbles over her lines. The role of Teddy is unruinable: charging up the stairs (San Juan Hill), plunging down to the cellar (Panama), bellowing, or bugling, George Lipton does nothing to diminish the preposterous comedy of his role. Mortimer is acted well, but Hugh Reilly often forces excessive gusto or thickheadedness into his part. The glowering Jonathan is solidly acted by George Cotton, who, sadly, looks like Orson Welles instead of Boris Karloff (the role was written as a parody of Karloff, and Karloff was persuaded to act it in the original production).
The minor roles are brandished competently. The lighting, especially when there is hardly any light on stage, is also fine. The whole production is directed with care and spirit by Bretaigne Windust; he introduces several amusing gestures and poses, creates humor with several clever props--e.g., a dead man's shoes--and his ingenious curtain calls are witty. As a whole, Arsenic and Old Lace is a pleasure.
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