37 Mins.; One, Three and Full Stage. With three special scenes and a cast of nine characters, one or two of which are unimportant through necessary (and probably filled by supers), “Any Night,” one of the series of sensational short sketches shown at the Princess Theatre, is at Hammerstein’s. It’s a tale of the underworld, in this instance a possibility well knitted together into a rather importable chain, but nevertheless a possibility, and because of this, the more interesting. The cast embraces among its more important types a street walker, openly and rather baldly referred to as a “hustler,” a policeman of the brand that flourished before the Whiteman regime, a “respectable souse” and a pair of sinning youngsters. A hotel clerk, porter and a pedestrian and fireman also assisted, the two latter undoubtedly doubling, although evidencing some activity behind the scenes. The opening shows a street before a drop depicting a Raines Law hotel. The policeman and “hustler” discuss conditions, the former showing an unusual interest in the latter’s welfare. The conversation disclosed the fact that tuberculosis has been added to the girl’s lot. A comedy vein runs through her light reference to the inevitable end. The young man follows on, luring Miss Innocence to her first misstep. Then comes to “hustler’s” first “client,” the souse. The quartet enter the hotel, the interior of which comes in the second scene. The process of registering brings more comedy to the surface. The third and final scene is the bedroom occupied by the souse and his “wife,” the finale coming with a fire which threatens the building, the firemen’s arrival and their accompanying clatter and noise. The elderly souse and Miss Innocence come face to face in the excitement, and being father and child, both realizing their sin, etc., remain to perish in the flames. The “raw” situation occurs with the opening and its ensuring dialog in which the social problem is openly discussed and pictured, possibly a bit strong, although the producers evidently infer that the moral lesson contained in the theme proper atones for whatever violation of decency takes place during the action of the piece. Helen Hilton as the street walker was quite good. James Edwards as the policeman was a bit too refined in action and speech for a copper with the experience his arms stripes designated. Lorin J. Howard as the drunk was acceptable in that section of his duty, though overdoing, but his dramatic period was lost through inferior handling. Howard handled a climax much as he would a comedy point, and because of this the finale suffered and was only lifted through the timely arrival of the scenic illusion at the end of showing the fire. And in this blaze there was considerably more smoke than fire. But regardless of the existing minor faults, “Any Night” is a good feature for Hammerstein’s, where plays of this calibre can hold up. As a standard vaudeville attraction, it’s impossible. It closed the Hammerstein’s program.
James H. Cullen, the beloved Jim who has played this section since many nowadays fathers were children, ambled on quietly, as always, and got a noisy hello. Cullen is as annual as Winter and a whole lot pleasanter. His boyish, innocent face conceals behind it the subtle mobility of the royal jester, the suave and unctuous wit. Jim said many a deep, wise crack off the tip of his smooth and ready tongue. One about Mary Garden was a classic. He could have remained for supper and keep the guests intact.
After that the applause was frequent, Glad Moffatt in the second spot makes the mistake of too great a similarity in the style of numbers in her repertoire. For instance, the selection of two comedy numbers, both in Irish brogue, isn’t wise. The rube number seems unsuited to her. Perhaps a little switching of songs might prove beneficial.
Cortelli and Rogers were strong in the next-to-closing spot, the wop comedy of Cortelli especially causing the hit of the turn.
Amoros and Jeanette, next to closing, were spotted just right and made ‘em yell with their new low comedy business. The man of this turn does a French comic, getting a lot out of the character by not overdoing it or making it up in the regulation way.
Nils Granlund, Loew publicity man, introduced Bert Lytell, building up an effective entrance for the latter with a brief preliminary announcement regarding Mr. Lytell’s personality, etc. adding that the “Met” was the fifth Loew house Lytell had appeared at Monday night.
Lytell received a rousing reception. He’s a personable young fellow, with an easy off-hand manner of speaking that given the impression of working impromptu, a resonant voice perfectly modulated and penetrating to the farthest corner of the vast Met auditorium, and a delivery and presence betokening a thorough schooling in the legit previous to his picture career. His talk was in comedy vein, relating mostly to a picture in which he had appeared with a lion. It landed for laugh returns.
Pasquale and Powers, a girl violinist and a man accordionist, registered a hit, encoring with a comedy talk medley on instruments to big laugh results.
James Mullen and Anna Francis came next to closing and began to good laughs with bright talk, though Mullen’s speedy semi-nut delivery doesn’t belong in so late a spot. They went well until the souse bit, when Miss Francis makes the mistake of deviating from straight. They finished lightly.
Henrietta Crosman, that beloved artist, stage gentlewomen and expert high comedienne of legitimate school, carried “Every Half Hour” again to a fine point of entertainment. The laughter was not at her call whenever she reached her gifted hand for it. The character was a cameo, human, yet high-lighted. Albert Chianelli. In a brief episode in which he enacted an explosive Frenchman, was a power. Four honest curtains – and oh, how Miss Crosman knows how to take curtain!
Christie and Bennett worked under a disadvantage, Christie being obviously indisposed. Got many laughs, though working slowly and unsteadily. Slumped a bit at the finish, but still stood up as a worthy comedy talking act in “one,” next to closing.
