I was originally cast as the juvey. I was to play the moonstruck, or rather starstruck lover of Ilona Szabo, played by none other than the most beautiful woman in the world, who was one day to become my wife, Harper Jane McAdoo. I was to play this sap, but, as I found out later, I was only cast because I could play a little piano and Dick Spear wanted a little something on the ivories at one point--which he ended up cutting. Meanwhile, the real juvey, Mark Pint--now known to soap fans as Mark Pinter--was cast in the plum character part of Dwornitschek. Well, things change, we swapped parts after about a week, and the leading lady ended up marrying the character man. Thank goodness.

REVIEWS:

THE SOUTH END

THE PLAY'S THE THING, by Jim Stanley

"Spear is a genius just for finding the play," Wayne S. Turney, an actor in "The Play's the Thing." Directed by Richard Spear, it opened November 8 at the Hilberry.

Recently revived, "The Play's the Thing" is not often done. In fact, the last New York revival was in 1948. This seems sirprising in view of its long run on Broadway in 1926. This play by Ferenc Molnar and adapted to English by P.G. Wodehouse simply doesn't get around. So its impact this time around is that of a brand new play.

It's refreshing to see a play never encountered before. The actors approach the new material with tender loving care. Not often is ths feeling shared by actors and audience, for actors encounter many more plays than do audiences. What is new to an audience, to an actor, may be an old chestnut.

The characters are playwrights and actors. Thus the plot is set up for the "play within a play" ploy.

Two playwrights, the famous Sandor Turai and Mansky his collaborator, bring their young genius composer, Albert Adam, to the castle where his fiancee is staying. The lady, who they hope to capture for a lead role int heir new production, has been seeing the actor Almady on the sly. As a favor to trhe lad, Mansky gets a suite adjoining the actress's room. Only to everyone's horror, the thin walls transmit every single syllable of a parting scene between her and Almady.

The even shatters poor Albert, who saw his love as apure, bright angel. Mark Pint doesn't have much of a role to work with. His smug confidence portrayed by a lopsided grin was pasted over a one-dimensional dummy. But in real life, young men who leap to success without trials and pain, without emotional maturity, do indeed become one-dimensional dummies.

His shattered ego, however, is delightful. His theatrical renditions fo grief, threats to tear up the score, and/or commit suicide leave his mentors aghast. They care for him, but his actions threaten to throw all their hard work and hopes for their new production down the tubes.

Sandor Turai, played by Michael Ruud, came off as a pretentious snob. He constantly forgets to give Mansky credit in their past efforts. He blatantly states that he writes better without Mansky to mess things up. Then he follows his words with deeds in a brilliant maneuver to convince Albert, and everyone, that the scene they heard from his fiancee's bedroom was a scene in a play.

James Kisicki, as Mansky, reacted with emotional concern for "the boy," but he never thought to the precise conclusions of his acts. "Never mean well--it's fatal." Turai chides him.

As Almady, Michael Santo is a quivering creep. Flashing, dashing, and debonair, his life's conquests are due to wearing down his opposition by whining. This tactic crumples against the impervious ego of Turai.

The most beloved character of all is the footman Johann Dwornitschek played by Wayne S. Turney. His part is an actor's dream. "It's a plum," agreed Turney. The ever-ready, conscientious Dwornitschek is not essential to the action. He is his own reason for being. His half-completed turns send the set spinning. His slanting stance sets the whole stage askew. His quaint concerns created a whole other reality to set off the weirdness of the main action.

Mell, the count's male secretary, was a jittery sweat bag. (It's the count's castle, but we never see him.) With cracking voice and nervous self-concern, Al Hamacher blubbers his way through his duties.

Ilona Szabo (Harper Jaane McAdoo) is the femme fatale, the lady who complicates the action. Surrounded by characters strong in their delusions and devotions, Ilona comes across like underdone cheesecake. To be influenced by the wormy, squirmy Almady, the character has to be wishy-washy. But most of the time all she does is take up space. He character doesn't fit into the action. The fault lies not with my garbled perceptions, but with the intention of t playwright. It's those Hilberry directors who portray women as shallow, deceiving, and basically spineless. It's not a revolutionary point. It's simply tiring.

Most of the characters are strong in their roles. Dwornitschek alone makes the play worth seeing. With its wry comments on life as theatre and its freshness, this play is certainly the thing to see for a full-bodies comedy. ...