Man Comes to Dinner at the Union

Most American comedies are rubbish; The Man Who Came to Dinner is not. Most productions of American comedies are dreadful; this one is not.

The Harvard Summer Theatre Group, in choosing this play, has tackled the most difficult task that any summer student company has ever undertaken here. Its ambitiousness has resulted in a highly entertaining production, which opens this evening after an invitational preview last night.

The wonderfully vivacious and satirical script was written twenty years ago, if you need to be told, by George S. Kaufman in collaboration with Moss Hart. Indulging their favorite practice of portraying well-known persons of their day, the dramatists wrote the play around the notorious, corpulent Alexander Woollcott, alias Mr. Sheridan Whiteside, a "critic, lecturer, wit, radio orator, intimate friend of the great and near great."

In the title role (originally created by Monty Woolley and later played on tour by Woollcott himself) of the man who came to dinner at an Ohio small-town home, had a bad fall, and is enwheelchaired there for a few weeks, this production enjoys the services of Earle Edgerton, a veteran of dozens of local shows. He brings his own excellences to the outrageous personage with the slashing wit and excoriating tongue; saying and doing such things as the rest of us dare only do in our minds, he cantankers his way through the role like a bull-slinger in a Canton shop. And he tosses in lots of amusing bits of business--with fudge, with long-holdered cigarettes, even with his own creaking joints.

In a large cast of twenty-seven, several persons turn in skillful jobs in major roles orbiting about The Man. As Maggie, his long-suffering and efficient secretary, Mikel Lambert gives the most consistently fine performance of the evening--poised, polished, and sensitive. Even when she is not speaking or is far away from the center of attention, she listens to what is going on; she is always acting and reacting, not just waiting for her next cue.

Richard Dozier is most appealing as the reporter-playwright Bert. In an unostentatious role, Dozier stands out for his smooth, clean-cut, and earnest performance; and he does not overdo his drunk scene as would most young student actors.

Marguerite Tarrant's Lorraine is a striking portrayal of a high-living, overglamorous star. And she is pleasant to look at in her stunning dresses and jewelry. John Wolfson brings the proper affectation to the part of a thinly-disguised Noel Coward; and Erich Segal is a colorfully mad Hollywood type.

Siiri Woodward's belabored Nurse and Larry Stark's meek Doctor are creditable; and Jane Hallowell has an all-too-brief cameo appearance. As Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, Terry Graham and Jean Young are somewhat lacking in a convincing naturalness; and Betty Stoneman needs to tone down her concept of Harriet, a pathetic Lizzie Borden grown senile.

With the limited facilities for John Beck's serviceable set, director Julius Novick has deployed his charges with a resourceful hand. He has obviously striven for split-second timing in speech, gesture, and sound cues--a facet of the play that presents unusually frequent and tricky demands. His pacing never drags.