Broadway could look back upon a not very tidy but far from untalented season. Indeed, 1948-49 had its genuine high pointseven moments when it did not seem like Broadway. Shifting and swerving, it was a season, to misquote the old limerick, that ran like a bus, not a tram.
It began drably. Well into November the best that Broadway could offer was such a mere second helping as Life with Mother, such hokum-with-cream as Edward, My Son. After that, the season got color in its cheeks, feathers in its cap. At award time, there were...
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