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Author Anderson, who dramatically presented Elizabeth in his Elizabeth, the Queen three years ago, has done better by Mary in Mary of Scotland. Of the story of murder and plotting, cloaks & swords, knife-faced Bothwell, caddish Darnley, crafty young Elizabeth, the snaggle-toothed pack of Scots Lords, he has made a poetic play. Designer Robert Edmond Jones has set it against six harsh, splendid sets. The first scene is of Mary's landing at Leith, a "cold, dour, villainous and dastardly" place. The second in England shows Elizabeth plotting to trick Mary into marrying Tudor-blooded Darnley, a Catholic, thus enraging the Protestant Lords and making it impossible for Mary ever to become Queen of Protestant England.
Author Anderson's plot makes more sense than history: Mary and Bothwell fall in love at once. Mary marries Darnley for mistaken policy, sends Bothwell away. Darnley wrecks himself and Mary by playing in with the Lords, knifes Mary's secretary Rizzio on suspicion of adultery, thus unwittingly giving a spurious confirmation to the lie Elizabeth has spread about her kinswoman. The Lords then murder Darnley, shift the blame to Bothwell when he marries Mary. They defeat Mary and Bothwell in battle. Mary escapes from their jail into Elizabeth's jail and her tragedy waits only on the headsman's sword. Author Anderson entirely whitewashes Mary and Bothwell for the murder of Darnley.
Helen Hayes, back to the stage from suffering in cinemas like Farewell to Arms, White Sister, gives to Mary little but these same brave, little girl accents. When she is on the stage in the last scene with Helen Menken, scrawny and harsh-voiced as Elizabeth, she is just a Hollywood actress. Philip Merivale has the height, the nose and the leanness for Bothwell, the only true man in Scotland, plays his part with praiseworthy capability.
Growing Pains (by Aurania Rouverol; producers, Arthur Lubin & Lee Shubert). To put flesh on this unremarkable play of adolescence, Producer-Director Lubin made news by rounding up a remarkable crew of adolescent semi-amateurs. He corralled Author John Erskine's daughter Anna, Actress Mary Eaton's little brother Charles. Also he got a pretty girl named Georgette McKee whose father works for the Guaranty Trust Co. and another named Jacqueline Rusling whose father keeps store in Bridgeport, and a dozen other youngsters between 15 and 18. Their stage job was to behave as they had behaved in real life the day before yesterday. They twittered on like starlings, discovering a sly pleasure in mocking their past youth. Their beauty, spontaneity and decorum charmed Manhattan audiences. The star of the proceedings was the author's beautiful, blonde, 17-year-old daughter Jean Rouverol.
Author Rouverol (Skidding) has given the youngsters a funny, often callous play about two-dimensional adolescence, in the guaranteed tradition of Booth Tarkington. Present are the malapropisms ("hyperficial"), the big words for little feelings, the emotional roller-coasting from top to bottom to top again in a minute flat, adult poses and childish behavior.