Drama in 1929

The Apple Cart by George Bernard Shaw

This was a fantastic read, such wonderful fun. It is exactly my kind of political satire, and I had a wide smile from beginning to end, except for those moments when I was reduced to helpless laughter. It's a fine example of serious silliness, in which the Prime Minister and his Cabinet present the King with an ultimatum, the object being to deprive the monarch of "the right to influence public opinion through the press" – in short, to make him little more than a figurehead. Including an hilarious sub-plot, in which the Ambassador of the United States proposes a reunification of both countries under the crown, the play reaches a marvellous denouement when the king attempts to retain his authority by threatening to stand for election as a royalist candidate in the next election. What on earth should a good democrat do?

The extraordinary thing about this play is the reaction is got upon its production in 1929. It was met with uproar from those on the left, who felt that Shaw – great socialist and democrat that he was – had betrayed the cause by portraying the King in such a positive light, and apparently favouring the institution of monarchy over that of parliamentary democracy. The German Social Democratic Party of the time even banned the play from being performed in Dresden, due to its perceived insult to the ideals of democracy.

In fact, as Shaw himself pointed out in his incisive preface to the printed version, the play brilliantly exposes "the unreality of both democracy and royalty as our idealists conceive them". On reflection, the heated reaction is quite understandable for the time – just a decade earlier, monarchs had been disposed of willy nilly in the wake of the First World War, with some of them losing their lives, others slinking off into exile… but not, of course, in the case of the victorious United Kingdom. And while the Allies were crowing about self-determination and the right of nations to exist freely and independently, the attitude of Britain with regard to its own colonies and possessions was directly contradictory to this lofty attitude. Shaw, the feisty Irishman, Fabian and socialist, did not regard the institution of monarchy highly, so his perceived 'turncoat' behaviour here was bound to whip up a storm. He is, however, right on the money in his portrayal of all political animals as bumbling, self-serving and hapless creatures, whether placed in their positions by election or by divine right. A cynical view, to be sure, but a perfect exercise in satire too.

The entire play is available online, thanks to Gutenberg Australia, as well as further fascinating resources about this lively and provocative political extravaganza.

Incidentally (and I don't know where else to post this, so I shall do so here), in the fascinating interview conducted by G. W. Bishop for The Observer on 8th September 1929 (included in the resources link above), Shaw's views on the brand new 'talking movie' are aired:

We happened to pass a cinema poster and I mentioned the "talkies." "Of course the 'talkies' have come to stay," he said; "a producer can spend £50,000 on a talking film, and is often guaranteed most of what he has spent before it is released, and it is bound to take the place of an ordinary stage production, upon which £50 has been spent."
"But surely theatre-goers will still demand the three-dimensional actor?" I suggested.
"Certainly," he replied, "but not the same person. The ordinary actor--as such--is unsuitable for talking film work. It is an entirely different technique. I tested that for myself. When I was shown the first picture I made I said to the producer, 'This is ludicrous; it is all wrong; it isn't me at all.' He replied: 'The camera cannot lie.' To which I retorted: 'The camera can lie and it has.' I then realised that in order to present a talking picture of Shaw I had to master a new method of moving and talking. If one acts naturally the result is simply--fussy.
"Look at the pictures taken of street scenes in the animated gazettes. The people who are walking give the impression of moving their legs quickly and running like this"--here Mr. Shaw illustrated what he meant--"whereas a movie actor has to walk in this way"--a few solemn steps were then "registered" in the middle of Malvern--"and the result on the screen is the ordinary natural walk. The screen magnifies and intensifies, and the technique is an entirely different one from the stage. 'Movie' actresses like Mary Pickford are clever enough not to appear on the stage without the glorious intensification of the camera. She knows that her public would consider that the real Mary Pickford is an insignificant person. She isn't, of course, but having always seen her magnified it would be like looking at her suddenly through the wrong end of the telescope.
"'Movie' acting is a different art," Mr. Shaw went on; "mainly it is the art of not moving at all! Then, along came the 'talkies,' and in rushed the ordinary 'movie' actor, and he has, on the whole, failed because he knows all about the reproduction of movement, but nothing about the voice. The stage actor, as such, is no good, and we shall have to breed a new race of 'talkie' actors and, what is more important, a race of intelligent producers."
"You will then allow your plays to be made into 'talkies'?"
"I know it is possible to reproduce dialogue, and it is now established that action can be reproduced on the screen. When it is as certain that the actual performers have mastered the technique and that there are some artistic producers who also understand the technique I shall consent."
"Don't you think that authors will have to write specifically for the screen?" I asked him as we finished our round and got back to the hotel.
"Possibly. I may write a 'talkie' myself, but I see no reason, given the conditions I have mentioned, that 'The Apple Cart' should not be reproduced exactly as it is written."
We had been out for nearly half an hour and I have only given the bare bones, a slight impression, of a talk which illuminated the whole subject as far as I was concerned. It gives little idea of the witty phrase, the apt illustration and Mr. Shaw's description of the banalities of the average moving picture.

Beaming at my GBS porcelain coaster on my desk after reading this.

It is not quite 1929 although it might have had the London premiere in 1929 but in 1928 Sophie Treadwell's Machinal premiered on Broadway and it is so stunning and ahead of it's time that I just had to mention it anyway. Quite different than Mr. Shaw and influenced by the Expressionism coming out of Germany.