THEATER CHRONICLE
53
cannot produce trenchant political satire- at least not in America in
this period-if your political horizon is the Wagner Act, and
Pins and
Needles
is at its best and most characteristic in the song numbers, where
the political satire, such as it is, melts into irresponsible good humor, poly–
syllabic playfulness, and musical wit. "Sing Me a Song with Social
Significance," "Dear Beatrice Fairfax," and "Four Little Angels of
Peace," all good, all by Harold
J.
Rome, are in the pert, worldly, stac–
cato tradition that runs from Gilbert and Sullivan through Cole Porter.
The theatergoer, whatever his class allegiance, is likely to go home
humming them.
It is interesting that the one jarring note in this symphony of good
cheer is struck by Mr. Marc Blitzstein, author of
The Cradle Will Rock.
In an hysterical sketch called "F.T.P. Plowed Under," Mr. Blitzstein
belabors the Federal Theater, which last June abandoned his play to the
mercies of individual enterprise. The sketch is strained and unconvinc–
ing even as burlesque: a personal injury has been generalized into a
national calamity, and the spleen displayed by the author is manifestly
in excess of its cause. Yet it is Mr. Blitzstein's stridency-in
Pins and
Needles
so misdirected, so malapropos-that is the special, quintessential
quality of
The Cradle Will Rock.
If
the function of
Pins and Needles
is to ingratiate, the mission of
The Cradle Will Rock
is to antagonize.
A curious feature of Mr. Blitzstein's play is that, though it has for
its subject the class war as exemplified in the steel industry, it is almost
totally lacking in internal conflict. The conflict which one ordinarily
finds within or between the characters of the drama has been moved
out past the proscenium arch into the theater itself.
The Cradle Will
Rock
is a kind of well-drilled assault on the feelings and nerves of its
audience. What is presented is not so much the workers versus the bosses
in Steeltown, U.S.A., as Mr. Blitzstein versus the ticket-holders in the
Mercury Theater. The prominence of the author in .the production–
he is actor, commentator, and pianist-gives focus to the sadistic im–
pulses of the script. Mr. Blitzstein's acrid personality is, in fact, the
whole show. He, as insolent and sardonic entrepreneur, sits downstage
center at the piano; the actors behind him are his marionettes. The
timing and precision of the cast's performance have the cold, military
perfection of the dance routines of the Radio City Rockettes.
The Cradle
Will Rock
is a triumph of theatrical goose-stepping. The drama has
become dehumanized; it has been made into a marvelous mechanical
monster which begins to operate with great efficiency whenever Mr.
Blitzstein pulls the switch.
Mr. Blitzstein's creatures are, of course, abstractions, as their names
indicate. That is why they are so easily manipulated. Mr. Mister, the
steel magnate, is the biggest abstraction of them all, and his sycophants,
Editor Daily, President Prexy, Doctor Specialist, Reverend Salvation,
and the rest, are presented solely in terms of their occupations. This is
as true of the proletarians as it is of the bosses, shopkeepers, and petty
bourgeois intellectuals, for Mr. Blitzstein's work has a wonderful uni-
