Brimston, the gifted producer of "Shoo, Charlotte!"_
I have been invited to say a few words to readers of _The Sabbath Scoop_ on
the alleged decay of the British drama. There is indeed some apparent truth
in this allegation. On all sides I hear managers sending up the same old
wail of dwindling box-office receipts and houses packed with ghastly rows
of deadheads. No "paper" shortage there, at any rate.
Sometimes these unfortunate people come to me for counsel, and invariably I
give them the same admonition, "Study your public."
There is no doubt that, with a few brilliant exceptions (among which my own
present production is happily enrolled), the playhouses have recently
struck a rather bad patch. Useless to lay the blame either on the
CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER or on the weather. Give the playgoing public
what it wants and no consideration of National Waste or of Daylight Saving
will keep it from the theatre.
And that brings me to my point. Whence comes the playgoing public of
to-day, and what does it want?
From the commercial point of view (and in the long run as in the short all
art must be judged by its monetary value) the drama depends for its support
on what used to be known as the better-dressed parts of the house.
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