You must imagine Mr. Charles Hawtrey as a composer of musical comedy, wealthy, unbusinesslike, and heartily sick of hearing his own waltz on the barrel-organs. At the height of his - or rather John Harcourt's - success, he discovers an old friend, Robert Brand, the writer of a symphony as yet unplayed. Brand is an artist. He hates the trashy airs of musical comedy; they are not music, as he conceives it. Brand and his family are poor-almost destitute; but he will not bend to the popular taste. Now, Harcourt's ambitions lead him towards a reputation as a composer of classical music, and he, too, has written a symphony, which he is anxious to have played by the Imperial Orchestra.
Here lies his opportunity to assist his friend. He reluctantly agrees to allow his name to appear as the composer of his old friend's work, setting aside his own efforts. It is played by the orchestra, and an instant success is achieved. The cries for the composer are responded to. Harcourt admits his deceit to the audience, and his demand for the recognition of his friend is received with thunderous applause. The attempts of a Jewish publisher to benefit himself out of Harcourt's work lends an amusing note to the play, while the knowledge that Brand's wife is an old sweetheart of Harcourt's adds a strong note of human interest.
Mr. Arthur Playfair gave a capital performance as the Jewish publisher. Miss Lydia Bilbrooke, as the companion to Mrs. Harcourt, John Harcourt's mother, Miss Enid Leslie, as Senta, Brand's daughter, and Miss Mary Rorke, as Mrs. Harcourt, did well. Although Mr. Hawtrey is not at his best, he has given the play a good mounting, and it is well worth a visit.
The Playgoer and Society Illustrated, No. 25.