"Arsenic and Old Lace" is such a good play it's hard to ruin. Any competent cast can make it work. And this version has a nearly perfect cast. Alas.
Geared for television, this version stars Bob Crane (then at the height of his bankability as "Hogan's Heroes" was still on the air) and Herman Gwynn ("The Munsters") as the warring brothers Mirtimer and Jonathan.
Helen Hayes and Lillian Gish are the old ladies, and the cast is strong right down to Bob Dishy and Frank Campanella as the policemen.
Old hands David Wayne and Billy de Wolfe are solid, while Jack Gilford as the doctor (here recristened Salk) has never turned in a bad performance that I know of.
Unfortunately, this version quickly begins to unravel. It's taped before a live audience for genuine reactions, which may not be a bad idea as some things do seem funnier with a crowd. But despite the (overmany) shots of the audience I never connected with them. And this play is good enough to dispense with them.
The play is shortened for television, which is a necessity; but it's also updated for "modern times" (circa 1969!). This gives it a feel that's even more antiquated than the original version. Not only that, in this truncated version some of the best lines and setups are missing, and other dialogue is shoved in unnecessarily. At the beginning the music all but drowns out dialogue.
Despite their fame as actresses on the stage and the screen, neither Lillian Gish nor Helen Hayes cover themselves with glory. Gish is made up to look creepy, like a refugee from "Sweeney Todd," undercutting her character. Gish, who learned to act in silent movies, also mugs too much. Hayes is lots better and on a real stage would be perfect; but, unfortunately, she doesn't have the original script to go by, only a late-1960s rewrite.
Gwynne does a creditable Boris Karloff impersonation, since Karloff played the original role of on stage (too bad he was unavailable by the time the Cary Grant movie rolled around and they had to cast Raymond Massey). But the Karloff connection is lost as his name is never mentioned prominently as in the original (he had died not long before and perhaps out of respect they didn't hold his image up for ridicule). Still, Gwynn is the best thing here.
Most of the cast has a tendency to mug, including David Wayne (Teddy), who is typically more professional. Perhaps he feels he has to make up for lost lines. Nevertheless, while an off-beat choice for Teddy Wayne was brilliant.
Billy de Wolfe, inheriting the role Edward Everett Horton played in the Cary Grant movie, only comes in near the end but he makes the most of his time. He never got the credit he deserved.
Credit where it's due: I won't spoil the ending, but this version does keep the famous curtain call, ruined slightly by unnecessary audience reaction shots. I'd rather see what's going on onstage. In local productions of the play any available local celebrities come out at the curtain call. It's one of the most famous and remarkable moments in American theatre. It's to their credit they kept it.
Unnecessary updating, rewriting, poor makeup on Gish, too much mugging, amateurish direction and too many audience reaction shots make this dream-cast "Arsenic and Old Lace" worse than the sugar-coated Cary Grant version. Perhaps it's simply a play that works best on a stage.
Geared for television, this version stars Bob Crane (then at the height of his bankability as "Hogan's Heroes" was still on the air) and Herman Gwynn ("The Munsters") as the warring brothers Mirtimer and Jonathan.
Helen Hayes and Lillian Gish are the old ladies, and the cast is strong right down to Bob Dishy and Frank Campanella as the policemen.
Old hands David Wayne and Billy de Wolfe are solid, while Jack Gilford as the doctor (here recristened Salk) has never turned in a bad performance that I know of.
Unfortunately, this version quickly begins to unravel. It's taped before a live audience for genuine reactions, which may not be a bad idea as some things do seem funnier with a crowd. But despite the (overmany) shots of the audience I never connected with them. And this play is good enough to dispense with them.
The play is shortened for television, which is a necessity; but it's also updated for "modern times" (circa 1969!). This gives it a feel that's even more antiquated than the original version. Not only that, in this truncated version some of the best lines and setups are missing, and other dialogue is shoved in unnecessarily. At the beginning the music all but drowns out dialogue.
Despite their fame as actresses on the stage and the screen, neither Lillian Gish nor Helen Hayes cover themselves with glory. Gish is made up to look creepy, like a refugee from "Sweeney Todd," undercutting her character. Gish, who learned to act in silent movies, also mugs too much. Hayes is lots better and on a real stage would be perfect; but, unfortunately, she doesn't have the original script to go by, only a late-1960s rewrite.
Gwynne does a creditable Boris Karloff impersonation, since Karloff played the original role of on stage (too bad he was unavailable by the time the Cary Grant movie rolled around and they had to cast Raymond Massey). But the Karloff connection is lost as his name is never mentioned prominently as in the original (he had died not long before and perhaps out of respect they didn't hold his image up for ridicule). Still, Gwynn is the best thing here.
Most of the cast has a tendency to mug, including David Wayne (Teddy), who is typically more professional. Perhaps he feels he has to make up for lost lines. Nevertheless, while an off-beat choice for Teddy Wayne was brilliant.
Billy de Wolfe, inheriting the role Edward Everett Horton played in the Cary Grant movie, only comes in near the end but he makes the most of his time. He never got the credit he deserved.
Credit where it's due: I won't spoil the ending, but this version does keep the famous curtain call, ruined slightly by unnecessary audience reaction shots. I'd rather see what's going on onstage. In local productions of the play any available local celebrities come out at the curtain call. It's one of the most famous and remarkable moments in American theatre. It's to their credit they kept it.
Unnecessary updating, rewriting, poor makeup on Gish, too much mugging, amateurish direction and too many audience reaction shots make this dream-cast "Arsenic and Old Lace" worse than the sugar-coated Cary Grant version. Perhaps it's simply a play that works best on a stage.