Warm Peninsula

The chief inspiration of this play by Joe Master-off is the tale of Cinderella, and for those who might otherwise miss this point, Julie Harris, as Ruth Arnold, mentions the fact several times per act. Of course, there is a switch to the fairy tale: Cinderella doesn't marry the Prince (who proves something of a scoundrel) but rather weds plain old Richard in Milwaukee.

Julie Harris, as a lonely and homely woman seeking a husband in America's sunshine capital, is immensely appealing in the central role. But the play itself is a travesty, a trite rehash of travel-folder propaganda and True Love Confessions, with a heavy touch of Pamela. The problems the play poses and agonizes could be solved with a quick letter to Dear Abby.

Nor has the playwright achieved any coherent form for his work. June Havoc as Joanne deLynn, a slick showgirl type over-the-hill, ponders the morality of an affair with a younger man, finally deciding morality is not a pertinent question. Completely unrelated to this, Ruth Arnold (Julie Harris) is fighting her battle, or laying her trap, for handsome Jack Williams (Farley Granger), whose intentions are less than honorable.

The only connection between the two lines of action is that Ruth and Joanne are roommates (they met in a restaurant). Joanne and Company sweep on stage, bare their shallow souls, and exit. From the other side rushes Ruth to deliver a monologue on her own crisis. As she exits, reenter Joanne. Result of this constant shifting of action is that the viewer tends to disregard the plot(s) altogether, which is probably the best thing.

Warm Peninsula is a comedy, of course, and often funny. But the humor is in an aged gag-line form. (Iris Floria, an aged silent-screen siren, admits that she still takes milk baths. "But milk is so expensive now that I use Starlac!') The plot does not contain an intrinsically comic situation.

Ruth White's portrayal of the forgotten movie star is surprisingly unstereotyped. Indeed, the acting always succeeds in rising above the quality of the script. June Havoc flounces about the stage as a superb specimen of moral laxity, and Farley Granger portrays the indecisive gigolo with equal skill. Julie Harris's engaging performance proves her to be a masterful stage veteran.

However, the viewer leaves the theater not greatly entertained or significantly uplifted, but rather saddened that the tremendous polish and verve of the cast is wasted on so flimsy a medium.