University of Virginia Library

STAGE

'Bewitched'—Fifteen Years Before

By STEVE WELLS

There is, in the entertainment
world, a vicious cycle, oddly
resembling a dog chasing its own
tail, which is set in motion when a
commercial comedy meets with a
certain degree of popular acclaim.
And of this cycle there are three
almost invariable truths.

The first is that the idea, or
gimmick, around which the original
success is written is going to be
imitated. The second is that the
copy isn't going to be as good as
the original. And the third and
most unfair—truth about this cycle
is that after a plethora of inferior
carbons have been shoved down
audiences' throats, the superior
original is going to lose at least
some of its magic, some of its
potency.

This, I think, is what has
happened to John Van Druten's
"Bell, Book and Candle," although
in the current Albemarle
Playhouse production it retains
enough charm and good-natured
tomfoolery to constitute a
pleasantly featherweight evening.
The play is a romantic comedy
about witchcraft in New York City,
and there can be little doubt that it
served as the basis for television's
too-long-running "Bewitched."

I say "too-long-running"
because "Bewitched" is a one-joke
affair, and that joke became tired

four or five years ago. I would think
the script writers would have run
out of things for Endora to turn
Darrin into—my God, he's been
transformed into everything from a
frog to a dwarf. Thankfully, Van
Druten doesn't tamper with
anybody's physical form, just their
emotions in "Bell, Book and
Candle."

Novelty Gone

Yet the novelty of seeing
modern-day witches is gone, the
parallels between this play and
"Bewitched" too omnipresent. We
see the similarity between the aunt
of the witch who is trying to win
the affections of the mortal
publisher who lives upstairs and
Samantha's "Aunt Clara." It is a
scene-stealing character — and as
played by an ostentatiously
costumed Jane Van Boskirk with
drooping jowls which make her
look like a confused basset hound
and a mouth which keeps moving
even if nothing comes out, it is
especially winning — but the
similarity is too pronounced for
comfort.

None of this, of course, is Van
Druten's fault. He has been dealt a
low blow by the passage of time
and his imitators. About all we can
blame him for are some romantic
cliches which must have sounded
just as corny when the play was
first produced in 1950 as they do
today. It is to the actors' credit, as
well as his, that these can be
dismissed in light of the pleasures,
however simple, the play has to
offer.

Heavy Burden

Because of its predictable
witch-meets-man, witch-loses-man,
witch-gets- man plot, there has to
be a heavy emphasis on character in
this play, and an unusually heavy
burden on the actors and director
to flesh out the sometimes
dangerously skeletal characterizations
which Van Druten has
written. Two of the five actors in
the Playhouse production do this
splendidly—Miss Van Boskirk and,
in an underwritten part, Wes
Simpers as a harried author,
slump-shouldered and hyper-tense
to the extreme of drinking straight
whiskey from one glass and a
"water chaser" from another,
alternating sips in a fine bit of
directorial inspiration by Russell
Gustafson, whose staging,
incidentally, is quite efficient.

Aside from these two stand-out
performances, the acting is, let's
say, adequate, with Joyce Stoner
smiling, frowning, and zapping (no,
not twitching) her way through the
role of the pretty witch in love;
Patrick Stoner overcoming an
intensity (primarily vocal, I think)
unsuited for such lightweight
comedy and settling agreeably into
the part of the mortal who doesn't
stand a chance of escaping back
into bachelorhood; and George
Miller bouncing jovially in and out
as Miss Stoner's younger brother.
They are all likeable, and if unable
to make their characters quite as
distinct and complete as we'd hope,
they are to be commended for not
falling back on stock romantic
comedy approaches and for
allowing their youth to work in
their favor, by lending a sense of
naivete or innocence to the
material, as it did also in
"Oklahoma!".

One final thought. It strikes me,
after seeing this production, that
Albemarle Playhouse has a
fondness for plays about witches.
"Bell, Book and Candle" is, after
all, the second show about
supernatural beings they have
presented in the last five months.
That does seem hard to figure; I
mean, there aren't all that many
plays about witches floating
around. You don't think..... ?

—Ed.)