The Cavalier daily :: Tuesday, February 10, 1970 :: University of Virginia Library

In case you're wondering what
your friendly neighborhood drama
critic is doing reviewing a book, let
me assure you it is one which deals
with the theatre. "The Season,"
which was published last fall by
Harcourt, Brace & World, is, as its
sub-title says, "a candid look at
Broadway." It was written by
William Goldman, who has also
penned six novels, co-authored two
plays, and scripted two movies, the
most recent of which was "Butch
Cassidy & The Sundance Kid."

What Mr. Goldman has done in
"The Season" is to examine in
detail every Broadway production
between June 1967 and June 1968
and relate at least one aspect of
each to the overall operation of the
New York commercial theatre. It is
an outspoken, honest, and thoroughly
engrossing account of the
business.

Mr. Goldman's style of writing is
informal and often very familiar.
He continually employs phrases
such as "Here's the kicker, folks!"
and "Listen to this, boys and girls."
He doesn't hesitate to use choice
four-letter words when they can
best express his feelings, and,
surprisingly enough, there is much
in the way of humor evident
throughout. Also, you learn very
early in the book not to trust the
author in certain areas, for if you
accept all of what he tells you at
face value, then you will fall into
certain "traps" which he has
ingeniously set to help drive his
points across.

Where "The Season" is most
effective is in Mr. Goldman's
detailed description of those variables
(using examples) which combine
to determine the success or
failure of plays. For this reason, the
book would serve as a good text for
a drama course, especially one
which purports to familiarize its
students with the basic workings of
contemporary theatre.

Of the thirty-five chapters in
"The Season," my favorite is,
naturally enough, the one about
critics, in which Mr. Goldman
outrightly puts forth opinions
about major reviewers with which I
almost unanimously agree. For
instance, he says that John Chapman
of the N.Y. Daily News and
Richard Watts of the New York
Post (both about 70 years of age)
"should be given Broadway's blessings
and sent to pasture." I also
admire the way in which the
author labels Jack Kroll of
Newsweek a stilted "supercritic"
("a critic who places the value of
his own writings above that of the
art object") with questionable taste
and purpose and then fittingly
moves to Ted Kalem of Time and
his "snobbishly intellectual pretensions."
Mr. Goldman does rightly
praise the work of Walter Kerr and
broadcast critics Edwin Newman
(NBC) and Leonard Harris (CBS).

The big surprise comes when Mr.
Goldman calls Clive Barnes of the
N.Y. Times "the most dangerous,
the most crippling critic in modern
Broadway history" and then proceeds
to indict him on nine counts
of malpractice. Although Mr. Goldman's
argument is totally valid, I
am still of the opinion that Barnes,
despite his shortcomings and our
many differences of judgment,
knows his way around the English
language, has a feeling for the
theatre, and is about the best critic
we currently have.

The only other argument I have
with any of Mr. Goldman's subjective
views is in his implication of
Mike Nichols' directorial work
being superficial. For my money,
Nichols is our finest director and
there are many adjectives to
describe a man who takes more
than two years of his life to film
Joseph Heller's "Catch-22," but
"superficial" is not among them.

But whether you agree with Mr.
Goldman's personal views or not,
you will probably learn a great deal
about the theatre from "The
Season." And in the final chapter
you will become aware of much of
what is wrong with theatre today
and be confronted with a few
suggestions on how the theatre
might be improved. Through a
private research survey which the
author had a reputable organization
make, you are told what keeps
people away from the theatre, what
people want the theatre to give
them, and, especially, when the
people would prefer to go to the
theatre. (The study reveals that
Friday afternoon is the second
preference of theatregoers, but of
course, there is no such thing as a
Friday matinee.) In short, Mr.
Goldman examines where today's
theatre fits into the entertainment
and artistic spectrum on the whole.

Throughout the book, even
when the author is using his poison
pen, you get the distinct impression
that he cares greatly for the subject
about which he is writing. And you
can't help but feel that the theatre
will survive. As long as there are
people like Mr. Goldman around to
give a damn, that is.