In London one adult eyes
uses
LONDON A striking example of how much more adult the London theater is in its approach to social problems and conditions than the American theater is to be found in the powerful tragi-comedy "The Killing of Sister George."
It's at the St. Martin's Theater and due to come to New York this season. It may offend and shock many of conventional tastes, the purely entertainment seekers and others who would rather not see a play about lesbians.
However, it cannot be denied that it mirrors a section of life and is magnificently acted and written. Nor can it be questioned that it handles a delicate subject about as tastefully as possible. There are scenes of nonphysicial dominance and humiliation but no love scenes, thank Heaven.
THERE is humor, since many of the lesbians and homosexuals of this world are persons of wit and not infrequently of great artistic talent and charm.
Still more laughter comes from the satirization of the British Broadcasting Corp. soap operas. In this regard I'm informed that the BBC has its own version of "Peyton Place" in a popular program called "Coronation."
When the play's final curtain descends and the central character is howling like a wounded animal in an agony of despair, one cannot but feel desperately sorry for the plight of so many women helplessly caught in the web of barren, ephemeral relationships of this nature.
Their situation is even more pitiable because the Sapphic sisterhood knows that it represents a type of mental and physical freak that is generally scorned by the world and can do little or nothing to help itself.
THE KILLING of Sister George" refers not to actual murder but to the threatened elimination of a nationally popular TV char-
By Peter Bellamy
acter from her show's script. It is made necessary because the actress who plays the role has made a disgraceful drunken attack on two novitiates of a holy order.
In her TV role the actress is known as Sister George, a super helpful nurse. In her public life she is beloved for her generous donations to charity and civic causes. In private she affects the most masculine women's attire possible and walks, talks, drinks, smokes cigars, utters Bronx cheers and swears like a trooper.
In late middle age she is called George by her submissive apartment mate. The latter is a pretty blonde emotional inferior who is called "Childie" for cruel reasons that are explained late in the play.
George is so popular on TV that to make her demise in the show at all palatable the BBC story brains arrange to have her run down by a truck during National Safety Traffic week. They also plan a most maudlin TV funeral for her.
George's TV fate hangs much upon the attitude of a BBC administrative officer, a woman formerly married who drips malice and hypocrisy. The end of the drama is a nightmare piled atop a nightmare.
BERYL REID, who plays the role of George, should win some sort of award when she enacts it on Broadway. Anybody familiar with the lesbian type in the creative arts will recognize at once that she has assumed all of the characteristics of the aggressor in such liaisons.
Eileen Atkins as "Childie," a pathetic failure in any relationship, is also uncomfortably realistic as the passive object of George's affections. Lally Bowers as the BBC administrative officer is a human, not uncommon horror who leads a double life for her own selfish desires. Margaret Courtenay has a bit as a clairvoyant.
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Playwright Frank Marcus has fashioned the characters with acid perceptiveness and obviously after long observation.
As the population increases, there are bound to be more brilliant lesbians with the same deep-seated emotional neurosis. With their increase, fathers will not only find themselves confronted with added competition by men, but also from shadow women with none of the extra fatigue of supporting a family.
That is part of the problem implicit in Marcus' play and it's something that cannot and should not be ignored by the theater.